I was surprised when her response to my idea was "Okay, let's do it."
I was like "Do what?"
She told me that she would go with me to the WORS races, all seven of them. We could make weekends out of it, driving up on Saturday to pre-ride and racing on Sunday. She'd take care of transportation and I could take care of lodging. So we made plans and I drew seven circles around seven numbers on the back of the handbook. The last of which was the number 10. Although there are 12 races in the WORS series, my MTB season ends when the Chicrosscup begins. It was a risky plan, I would have to race well at every race to hit my goal, and cross my fingers there were no bad mechanicals.
The last race on the calendar was Treadfest. When I explained that Treadfest took place at the Grand Geneva lodge, she jumped on the opportunity and asked me if a stay at a nice resort, could be her treat for being good race support all season. I told her it was a deal.
If you've been reading any of my entries you know that she has been amazing race support all season long, so our trip to Lake Geneva started with a day off of work on Friday, and a quick drive up I-94N to Hwy 50W. We spent two night at the resort enjoying the amenities and taking advantage of the proximity to get a pre-ride in much earlier in the day than normal. On Saturday I was done riding by 2PM whereas many WORS weekends we haven't even arrived at the venue until after 3PM. The extra time to recover definitely seemed to help on Sunday. Our room had a patio off the back, and so as it rained early on Saturday night we went and sat on the patio and enjoyed the sounds of guitar music wafting over from the bar. It was very relaxing and tranquil looking over the lake with the lit fountain in the lake, and the sound of gentle rain washing over the world. The rain clouds broke at 11PM and I couldn't help but sneak down by the water and capture some images from the wild.
The proximity also helped on Sunday morning. The resort offered a trolley service so guests could get around the resort. We hatched a plan to use this to our advantage. I woke up early on Sunday (at 6AM) and drove our minivan up to ski-lodge and got the best parking spot in the house. It was literally the only car in the lot. I then rode my bike back to our room, and found Morleigh waiting for me on the veranda. We went to the resort's Cafe and enjoyed a nice buffet breakfast, and went back to bed for a little nap. At 9AM we woke again, this time for real, and I packed up the remaining belongings into my Mission Workshop bag, and I rode my bike back up the road. Morleigh took the shuttle to the ski lodge. Of course in all of my planning for our long weekend, I forgot to pre-reg and had to borrow a check from Morleigh to pay for registration.
From there it was a pretty normal race day. I helped Morleigh get her spectating gear to the best spot in the house, the top of the ski hill, and she camped out up there all day with my parents. I returned to the parking lot to get ready, but there wasn't much left to do. The weather was cool enough that I was not planning on carrying a Camelpak, in fact I didn't even fill my nutrient bottles all the way. I figured I would take half a bottle with nutrients to start, and then if I needed I would grab water from the aid station, and a second half-bottle of nutrients from my race-support on a latter lap. I did put a tube and CO2 into my jersey pocket, just in case.
For my pre-ride I headed back down the road leading to the resort, and got to do something I had never done before which was ride a bicycle down a runway. The runway at the Resort was closed this year, and riders were streaming up and down both sides. It was an "I wish I had my camera" moment, but I had not taken any photos that morning, as I was solely focused on getting myself ready to race. I had already cut it a little close before getting out to warm up. By the time I made it back to the starting area I had time for one quick burn up the hill to get my legs ready, and then returned to the starting line to wait for my race to begin.
I was relieved at the starting line when Don announced there would be only two laps. I had spent the day before mentally girding myself for three laps and nine times up the hill, and I am not ashamed to admit I was happy that I did not have to face those demons. The leaders of the age groups get their call-ups ahead of the leaders for the clydesdales, so a clydesdale call-up is almost always worth a spot on the second row. Its a little bit of a guessing game as to which of the riders in the front is going to get a good shot off the line, or where the best place is to be to get an opportunity to squeeze out or around someone. I lined up behind Todd because I knew he was generally one of the fastest in my wave, but it turned out to be a bit of a mistake because he was in the middle. Starting on an edge opens up an opportunity to go out and around, but it I chanced the middle. I kept reminding myself to stay calm. It wasn't the first time up the hill that mattered, it was the third.
I love that Don reminds us "to treat each other kind" before he screams "GOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
As the pack surged forward I found myself kind of trapped in the middle as we went up and over the first ridge. As we hit the second and more significant slope, a break opened up and I pushed my way up to maintain contact with the leaders. My girlfriend took these photos of the start of the first lap:
I was right where I wanted to be, and in pretty much the same position as I was in at Cam Rock, following Aaron and Todd up the hill (I pushed the pace to keep ahead of Marcus before we made the corner at the top). Despite my attempts to not over do it on the first climb, the cool air was very hard on my throat and I was breathing heavy, panting as we made the 90 degree turn onto the level before the first descent. At the top of the first hill I was third in my wave, but Aaron and Todd were already at the bottom of the hill again before I really started to descend. Thankfully I'm very good at going downhills and was able to carry momentum around the corner, and caught up to both of them at the base of the second climb.
When we hit the second climb we were already running into stragglers from the prior wave. I pushed it a little harder up the second climb to make certain to get clear of the riders from my wave, and to get around some riders from the next wave. I was concerned about getting stuck behind slower riders on the downhill single track. So I got into the clear at the top of the second hill and zoomed down the single track shoot again, and immediately went to work on the third climb. I had not shaken the competition. I could hear gears and pedals and heavy breathing right behind me, so I kept pushing it to the top. We passed another bunch of riders from earlier waves before we hit the top of the third climb. When we hit the single track at the top I needed to pause for a moment because my throat was raw. Cycling competitively for the last few years has made me acutely aware of how much of a challenge it is for my body to transition from warm weather adaptation to cold. My throat and lungs were rubbed raw from sucking in the relatively cool air. But there was no time to rest.
Todd was right on my tail, and anxious to keep going. In the first few sections of single track, when we would come up on slower riders I would pause behind them for a moment trying to catch enough of a breath to announce "leader of next wave" or "when you find a spot I'd like to pass", but before I could Todd would already have announced our presence. It was then up to me to find a place to squeeze by. On the "Son of a Butch" climb I finally asked him if he wanted to pass me, because I needed to catch my breath, but he said I was doing just fine so we continued on, riding behind some slower riders up the hill and down through the rockless garden (they took all the rocks out of the sport section this year) into "Heartbreak canyon". We hit some double track and we were able to jump that group of riders before getting into the next section of single track which happened to be where I was stung by a bee and crashed the year before. By the time we hit the next pile up of riders, the course opened into a long section of double track. I stood up and hammered, and was so happy to have taken the week off because in doing so I found my high-gear again. I passed another handful of riders from an earlier wave. Todd stayed right with me. The trails were in incredible condition. They were damp but not muddy, tacky without being slippery, and compared to the dry dusty mess they could have been (i.e., think Subaru Cup) it was really great conditions for a race.
We continued working together like this, me in front doing the pulling, and him on my wheel calling out our presence and helping to push me forward. It felt like we were making really great time. As we were approaching the end of the first lap, I started to hit my first wall. Todd made a move to pass me when we hit the first climb of the second lap.
Todd made his move, and I got a really bad "side-stitch" (i.e., cramping in my abdomen). This was of course not a good sign for me. Todd also started to play good chess, putting slower riders between us, but the course was still open as I struggled up the second hill. The side-stitch had abated by the time I reached to top of the third climb, and I had only lost a few spots. Fortunately for me, the gentlemen between us were uber-courteous and made plenty of room for me to squeeze by. I think I was on Todd's wheel again before the "Son of a Butch" climb or shortly there after. I followed Todd's wheel for maybe half of the second lap or a little bit longer, and all along the way we found either open space to ride at our own speed, or courteous riders who made space for us to pass in the single track. I was a little surprised at how much the some parts of the course had dried between our first lap and our second lap. There were places where the color of the single track changed from dark moist chocolate brown to dry ash already. In another few hours they might even start to get dusty and slippery again. But that was someone else's worry. My race was "almost" over. As we were approaching the "Roller Coaster" I had a thought that I wanted to ride that section of trail at least one time without anyone in front of me. I called out to Todd that I was ready to take the lead and surged by him as we were transition from double to single track.
My first thought was that I just wanted to take that descent as fast as I could knowing the uphill was steeper and longer and would absorb any extra speed. I wanted the Roller Coaster all to myself. After enjoying that little thrill ride, my second thought was of Alterra and how I caught up to Todd at the bottom of the hill and then watched him surge away from me up the hill while I bonked. He had a great finishing kick, and I thought I had better open up some space between us in the single track. It felt like when I was behind him that I could ride faster than him through the technical stuff, so I took off. It took a while for a gap to open up, and I was once again aided by the kindness of my competitors who went out of their way to work with me on tight single track to allow me to sneak by them. I'm sure they did the same for Todd, but it seemed like I never had to wait much for an opening, and there were not that many people in the single track. For most of the second lap it was just Todd and I riding together at our own pace, and not being slowed down by anyone.
As the course opened up into the final double-track section leading to the finish I did not look back. I stood up and hammered up the hill passing at least four riders who were huffing and puffing their way to the finish. As I rolled down the hill and around the last corner towards the finish my speed hit 25mph and I crossed the line ahead of everyone from my wave. I could tell from the running time which was at 1h11min that I had a phenomenal race. It was the perfect icing on a great WORS season.
I knew from Excel work earlier in the week that I already clinched the Series lead and the title as the "Fastest fat-kid in the 3rd grade". This was my 8th win in my category, and my overall time of 1:03:29.3 gave me the highest finish I have ever had in a WORS race which was 16th place in the Sport category, and for the first time I came in ahead of every other rider in my age category. This means that I met all of my goals for my MTB season (Series championship, breaking into the top 20 of sport, qualifying for Nationals next year, and taking some incredible photographs). I hope my cross season goes half as well.
It took me a while to make it back up the hill to greet Morleigh and my family as I stopped and chatted with other riders I knew from Chicago about the races they had just had and the races they were about to have.
This season has been truly blessed and I am grateful for the hard work of WORS staffers and volunteers for making the races possible. I would like to extend thanks to all the riders who start before and after I do in different category and the same. You are an incredible bunch of people, gifted and beautiful, and it is the generous and kind spirit of WORS racers that keeps me coming back for more. The vibe of road racing and crits in Chicago is uber-competitive and even a causal weeknight group road-ride here can get more tense than the most serious WORS race. As I waited to step on the podium and watch the top 60+ riders accept their medals, I can only hope that I am fortunate enough to still be racing WORS in another 25 years.
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