Gloucester, oh, Gloucester. What can we say about you?

Three years ago, this was the first cross race I ever witnessed. A year ago, I won the Cat 3 race, and … partook in the elite race.

This year, the event was in my head.

Despite being a C2 event with no outright tricky or scary course sections, this race gets a C1 turnout, and the course has claws to grab you and teeth to chew you up. What could be a power course that is well-suited to me instead is turned into a course of finesse of line choice, with hard ground covered in loose rock, with spiney boulders popping out of the ground, waiting to grab you in every good line and in every fast section. Many tires and wheels fell victim this weekend (none of mine, thankfully).

Friday I got to the venue to deliver my cute little bikies to the Raleigh Clement Team mechanics so they could get them working in tip-top condition after a few weeks alone with me. I seem to have adverse effects on most mechanical systems. Digital ones, too. But, they are magicians and saints that got my steeds ready to carry me to any victory I chose to pedal for.

Day 1. I was freaked out, because the start was uphill, then downhill, and then turn right off of the pavement into an off-camber rock section, hook around a tree, and then a downhill rock section back onto pavement, and then onto the regular course. Yea. I was in my head. I am a bad starter, fearful of the first bottleneck, and this was going to be a doozey. But fear not! Sacrificial Master’s and category racers crashed enough to inspire a course change! Though that section was still a part of the regular course, the start was changed to uphill, slight downhill, and left hand turn on pavement to do a half lap before entering for a standard lap. I was still a bit put-off by the downhill (however slight) pavement turn. I am dreadfully fearful of knobby tires on pavement. Add to that 66 women gunning for the same line, slamming on their brakes and sliding around… yea. I’m not overthinking this, clearly.

So, I prerode the course, making the best of a marbles on glass situations by slowly coasting through and embracing the smooth grassy sections with fast legs. I was running Clement MXPs, so I got good traction on the hard ground and could still take the pavement turns with confidence. There were two turns I knew were kryptonite for me, and no one section on which I felt I had an advantage over anyone else. Confidence was low. I could make the top 10 if everything went normally. Almost everything went normally. Almost.

The start was nearly impossible to get to; being on the opposite side of the venue from the team area, having no actual throughway to the start, and making all of the bathrooms very far away made my journey to staging a slow one. I actually showed up too late to get an effort out of the start grid. Usually I try and effort from zero to wanna-be-hero so I can figure out the perfect gear. I didn’t get to do that, so looking at what seemed like a steep pitch in front of the grid, I put it in my 44-27 (big ring easiest cog). That was the wrong choice, it seems. I should have made it a little bit harder. Even from the third row, I was spinning out and not able to stay on the wheel in front of me. And as soon as a gap opens, people start filling it. So, after the first few turns I was in the back third of the field, at best. But, I raced well. I passed when I could, I kept it smooth, and I never went down.

The only times I bobbled was on the “run up”. Which in pre-ride, you could ride halfway up before awkward stacks of logs and then weird granite steps forced you off the bike. During the race, the dust go so deep that traction was scarce and rocks were more plentiful, forcing many off their bikes earlier. I, being stubborn as I am, still tried to commit to riding, leading to awkward dismounts and general tumblings overs. During one lap, I dismounted on the driveside of the bike (right side), and heard someone coming up to pass. I held my bike literally perpendicular out in front of me, blocking the path. “No way is someone going to pass me because I am clumsy.” Valid thought? No. So, my balance all askew and the dust deep, I tripped and landed on top of my bike, and when I managed to right myself, Crystal Anthony (who had flatted earlier in the race, thus allowing me to pass her on a pavement stretch as she limped to the pits for a new wheel) passes me. Ugh. She deserved to pass unhindered. I apologized later. Here is my theory: if I pass someone, and then fudge up upstream, I don’t want that person passing me back because I will only pass them again post-blunder. Thus, a strategic block is warranted. Crystal, though, was making an initial pass that would have happened regardless.

I continued making passes, and when I hit the pavement stretch for the finish, Cassie Maximenko was behind me. I rode hard, and looked over my shoulder and figured she was pretty far back. I sat up a bit. I need to get my eyes checked, because she came roaring passed me. I got on the gas a little bit, but knew I couldn’t get her at the line so I just sat up again. The entire time I was on the pavement I was already thinking about the next day’s race and had stopped racing the one I was in. That is okay. She fought for the line and deserved the 11^th.

After the race someone asked me if I got a new helmet, but no, it is still my Lazer Z1, it was just a shade lighter all weekend because of all the dust!

Here is a dirtwire interview of my Day 1 performance.

Afterwards, good ole Coach Kyle told me he was proud of the way I raced, but I knew my start was disappointing. I vowed for redemption on Day 2. But he was right, I did race well. I was very strong and smooth, and I came up with 12^th.

The best thing about day one? MY TEAMMATE WON THE FREAKING RACE!!! Caroline Mani rode a hard and strategic race (so I am told, I only heard a bit of announcing from the back) and came across the line for the win. Why am I so pumped about this? I don’t want to put any words or feelings in her mouth (…?) but, Caroline seemed a bit nervous for the race. She admitted to having very good, and very bad days at this race. But all of the night before and all day she was positive and confident. And clearly she didn’t let any of those doubts get in her head. Her winning the race was a mental victory for me, which I need to try to harness and learn from. How can I turn doubts into fuel?

Can I take a moment to say how great the Raleigh Clement team is? Already they have shown me what it means not just to be a professional, but to act professionally. No matter the outcome of their races, each and every one of them is appreciative and positive. They take every bit of bad luck in stride and every success with modest pride. When I grow up, I want to be just like them! Oh, and Kerry taught me how you can put pumpkin pie filling on anything.

Day 2 the course was not just a reversal of the day before, but was instead like it was run last year, with the start at the part of the venue where the team tents were, a long uphill pavement stretch to a right-hand turn to enter the course. I had dreams about how it would go. The whistle would blow, I would get clipped in and start pedaling. I don’t do anything too impressive at first, but the field thins out due to the long and grueling hill and I am able to make passes before the first turn. I have been training for this. I know I have the power and the ability to start strong. Kyle trained me for this very moment! I CAN DO THIS!

I did not do it. I was in the third row again, no surprise. The girl in front of me did not start too well. She blocked me for a good part of the start stretch, and when I felt safe enough to pass, she got pushed into me and her skewer grabbed the spokes of my front wheel. We dislodged and I took a moment to check my wheel. All was well, minus the fact that I WAS AT THE BACK OF THE GROUP ONCE AGAIN WHAT THE HECK. And to add perplexity regarding the terribleness that is my starting ability, Jena Greaser who started BEHIND ME was LEADING THE RACE during the first lap. WHAT THE ACTUAL JACKRABBITS!?!?!? I have GOT to get my shit together. Not kidding.

So there I am. The back of the pack. I am shaking my head. I make pass after pass when I can. By the second lap people are telling me “27^th!! Keep going!” It feels like a repeat of last year. I am so frustrated. I am in my head. I am disappointed in myself. I had one goal for the race and I had already failed myself by not starting well. How can I do this to myself race after race after race??? It’s like last year when I had no UCI points and had to pass all race long, never feeling like my finished reflected how I raced. “IT’S NOT FAIR!” I wanted to scream. But, it is fair, unfortunately. I lack a skill, and I must suffer the consequences. Ok. I have the skill, I just have not figured out how to enable it.

So, off I pedal. Making pass after pass. Sometimes groups, sometimes single riders. Sometimes I have to be patient, sometimes I can zoom right by. I was not racing smooth. After the race I couldn’t recall crashing, but then the fog cleared and I said “Oh, yea. I was off the bike a heck of a lot.” Only twice did I hit the ground proper, the rest were dabs and dismounts. The off-camber chicane section was where it was really going sour for me: I fell into the snow fencing and I slid out my front tire, and I missed my pedals and just off and on and off and on my bike. I was so frustrated with myself I was getting more and more tense as the race went on, and the tenser I got the more mistakes I made. I need to relax my arms and my eyes so I could absorb the bumps of the hard ground and let the bike and tires do their jobs, but I was just trying to drive myself into the ground. So, between riding outside of my mind and being so absolutely tense, I was riding terribly.

Then, something crazy happened. I ended up 8^th. How in the…? How can I race so poorly and do so well? Maybe I didn’t race poorly. Maybe I am being a harsh critic. Ok, there are quite a few photos of me off of my bike, but maybe all the stuff in the middle didn’t go too bad!

Craziest thing of all? Three years ago, the Gran Prix of Gloucester was Amy Dombroski’s last race. And that weekend, she got 8^th and 11^th. So knowing that, knowing that I am riding for Amy, I am even more proud of how I did. I had some mental barriers there at the start, but I overcame and I raced hard to do Amy proud.

Thanks to all of my support. I am so glad that more of my support teams got to meet this weekend, with Nick and Coach Kyle meeting Donn and the team. I really couldn’t be having such a great season without the Amy D program. Can’t wait to keep charging!!! Moving onward to the KMC Cyclocross Festival in Providence, RI!!

PS, I used to think I understood math, but I went from 5^th, to tied for 4^th with Kaitlin Antonneau in the ProCX series. weird.

All photos by Nick Czerula.