"Battenkizzle" and other spring classics terminology

Me, Audrey, Beth, and Kate after the race

The women's pro/1/2 race at Tour of the Battenkill was all about new vocabulary.  "Breakaway," and "attrition" are terms that, for better or for worse, don't always come into play in women's races.  "Dirt" is also rare for us roadies, so rare in fact that I started counting down the days til I get a mountain bike...

Anyway, back to the attrition-fest,  I mean race: after Jeff Cup's epic chain-dropping fail, I was careful to adjust my shifting when putting on the race wheels.  The first 10 miles were super-smooth: the pavement, the peloton, even my shifting.  It was pandemonium in my head though; the tightness of the pack and the occasional elbow were enough to keep me cowering at the back.  There was an attack on the first climb, and I panicked and stomped on the pedals while shifting.  Crap.  The chain came all the way off, but this time the race support moto came to help.  They fixed it and gave me a push as I started up the climb alone.  I picked up some dropped riders along the way, and 6 miles later we caught the main pack.  I sat in for a few miles and tried to catch my breath.

Photo by Barry Koblenz/BaseTwelvePhoto

 I was still recovering when another move was made, and I quickly found myself in the chase group.  With some talented sprinters in the chase, and some of my own teammates up the road, my job was now to keep our chase group from catching the pack.  Some people yelled at me to pull, but I clung to the back like a dingleberry.  In spite of my non-cooperation, we caught the pack around mile 50, this time with a few strong riders out of sight.  We settled in for the field sprint, and I got spooked as usual by the tight pack.  Farm Team took 16, 17, 18, 24, 39, and 47.  The amazing climber Veronique Fortin won in a breakaway of 5 riders.  On the way home, Thea counted down the days til the next dirt-free, sprinterly crit (I better brush up on pack handling ASAP).   

Important Battenkizzle take-away:

• I'm excited to be on this team, and finally excited about racing too.
• I need to get my bike fixed.
• Apparently, I like dirt.  A lot.
• When can we do this again?!

I later washed my face in a gas station bathroom...

Jeff Cup 2012: I'm kind of a big deal.



I don't fix dropped chains with my face, but I always end up looking that way...

There are two ways to finish a race alone: one is glorious, and the other is well...what you make of it.  Speaking of twos, coming into Jefferson Cup, I had identified two acceptable outcomes to keep me on the racing/training bandwagon: 1. to have a good enough finish that I'd be excited to keep racing, or 2. to have a frustrating enough finish that I'd be excited to keep racing.  Let's just say I finished alone, and I achieved one of those acceptable outcomes...

That's right ladies, I took my first DFL, and it was glorious.  I had my own moto, my own pace car (OK it was probably just some random family on their way to return curtains at Pottery Barn, since I was outside of the rolling enclosure), and my own photographers (I think the people snapping up shots thought I was off the front of the next race, but whatever). 

Here's how this monumental finish occurred: we started really slow, and I got all spooked every time the pack would bunch up.  I thought about quitting bike racing, this time even cooking up some specific plans on what I might do for exercise instead.  The pace picked up in the last 20 miles, and I was briefly excited about racing.  Then with 2k to go, without even shifting, I somehow dropped my chain and couldn't pedal it back on.  I hopped off and fixed it, then executed the most glorious solo finish ever, hauling ass as if I might catch the pack.  I briefly considered stopping short of the finish line to avoid the DFL in favor of a DNF, but 2012 is not about vanity.  It's about being the Lanterne Rouge and liking it, so I sprinted through the finish line like the big deal that I am.  Seriously though, the ABRT women ripped everyone's legs off and made it a great race.  Really amazing work.  Now to get this chain grease off my face...