It is 9:45 on Friday night and I’m sitting alone typing this race report.  To be honest, it isn’t something I want to do right now.  The whole bike business doesn’t seem that important right now.

This morning I learned that my dad had to have a stress test.  On Thursday he was doing some work at the hardware store that at 70 years old he still runs.  He was moving rolls of carpet when he passed out.

When he went to the hospital they asked him who his physician was.  He replied that he didn’t have one.  They asked him what medication he was on.  He replied, “None.”  They had no medical history to work from.

My dad has always been a healthy, strong guy.  It came as a shock when I learned that the stress test revealed a problem.  Because of the test, he had to go in for further examinations.  That was the only knowledge I had of his condition before getting on my bike to race in the category 3/4 race.

The race was part of the Speed Weeks criterium series.  This particular one was part of Spartanburg’s Spring Fling.  It would be my first race with the category 3 guys.  I had no idea what to expect.

I felt okay.  I made sure I got there in time to warm up effectively.  So when we moved onto the course to come to the line, I was happy with my physical condition — even if mentally I was kind of bummed.

I came around the course to find that many of the riders were already lining up on the front.  Well, I just learned something else.  If you take a lap around the course ten minutes before the start of one of these things, you are going to end up starting at the back of the field.

This was another blow to my psychie.  I had hoped to get up front.  This was going to be tough starting back here in the back!

Off we went.  I actually felt pretty comfortable in the group making the turns.  However, I could see the field stretching out as we completed turns two and four.  I felt the desperate need to get up to the front to make up for my bad starting position.

At the same time my brain was telling me to try to be patient.  I started to look for ways to move up in the field.  I started by trying to make some passes in the corners.  My thought was that if I could take a sharper line, I could make up some ground in the turns.

There was a major issue with this that it took me several laps to realize.  In turns one and two, if you got out line you got hit with a blast of wind.  I mean, stand you up and stop you type of wind.  At first I tried to fight through the wind.  However, all this did was make me work all the harder for very few positions.

It turns three and four you didn’t notice the wind as much, but these were much tighter turns.  If you tried to go it shallow, it would cause you to scrub off speed and you would lose the positions you gained in the turn as soon as you started coming out of it.  I actually found I was having to work all the harder just to maintain my position.

Next I tried to use the front stretch after turn four with the tailwind.  This was actually the smarter way to make up the ground.  Unfortunately, this was after my earlier unsuccessful attempts in the corners.  I was starting to suffer a bit by this point.

I started feeling myself sliding back.  Where I had been averaging over 350 watts I was now dropping below 300.  Still, I found that I could hang onto the rear of the field by making up the time in the corners.  For a lap or two more I stayed with the main field.

Then I dropped back.  I was getting ready to pull out when Matt came past me.  He said, “Come on, Jonathan.”  I jumped on his wheel and followed him for a lap.  Then I moved in front of him and pulled him for a lap.  However, that was it.

I did not want to be a danger to the main field that I knew would be coming up behind me soon.  I hated to have that first DNF for the year, but it just wasn’t to be.  I rolled off with my head down.  To add insult to injury, the announcer called my number as I withdrew.  Another lesson learned: Don’t leave the race on the front stretch.

I was angry with myself at first.  Then I got down.  Then I calmed down and looked at it for what it was.

I had averaged 330 watts for 15 minutes.  That is more than it needed to be.  It isn’t necessarily the guy putting out the most energy who wins the race.  It is the guy who uses his energy most wisely.

I did not use my energy wisely.  Most likely I would have made it much farther and perhaps finished the race had I placed myself in the line going wider through the turns.  It would have protected me from the wind and allowed me to keep my speed up instead of scrubbing it off with a tighter turn.

Then I would have been able to move up as attrition started in the field and other movements on the front stretch would have opened lanes for me.  Those would have been smarter moves.  However, wisdom comes with experience.  Now, I’ve had a little and I trust I will be wiser for it.

I didn’t hang around after the race for very long.  My dad was on my mind.  I got a message from my sister that came while I was racing.  Turns out he needs to have a valve replaced.  The doctors found his arteries to be clean as a whistle.  However, it appears that a structural issue he has had all his life has been exaggerated because of age.  It is causing the valve to be too tight.

Driving home I thought about just how insignificant my finishs in a category 3/4 race really is.  Hey, it is okay to get angry about losing.  Winning wouldn’t be much fun if you didn’t hate losing.  However, you can’t define your happiness by how you do on the bike.  Be glad you are able to be on your bike! Let the anger go after a moment and then look forward to the next opportunity to gain some wisdom.