JMSR Wrap UP

To say the race down in Fayetteville was tough would be quite an understatement. 230+ riders began Joe Martin on Friday afternoon and by the end of the weekend, approximately 30 had survived the entire weekend (those thirty finished in the front group of the crit)! I unfortunately was not one of the 30, but my team mate Brian was...in fact, here are some other numbers that are important to Brian; 2--this is the number indicating he was the second-placed amateur overall; 10--this Brian's GC placing; 8:53--that's how long it took Brian to climb a 6.8% grade over 2.5 miles. Needless to say, Java is breaking out! Congrats!

The weekend was a tough one for me. The races have a bunch of climbing, and when surrounded by such a stellar field, I am not much of a climber. I finished about 40 minutes down on Friday eve, just barely inside the time cut, and pulled out of Saturday's stage after getting dropped 50 miles in.

Friday went a little something like this. A group of 5, one of which was Luke, rolled off the front from the whistle. The pace was pretty chill, and there wasn't much climbing in the beginning. A few hills and several crashes later, the race had heated up a bit, and the race was on. Coming into a small town just before the big climb of the day (Mt. Gaylor, 10 miles of climbing, 80 miles into a 110 mile road race), a huge crash had me on the brakes, and nearly on the ground. I was able to avoid the crash, at the cost of chasing back onto the field up a somewhat steep climb. I made my way back on, but as the climb kicked up, accelerations had me dangling off the back once again. I chased all the way into Mountainburg, which is the host town of Gaylor. I had just meandered my way through the caravan as Gaylor began to take it's toll on my legs. I was able to make up some ground, but I could never fully catch back on to the group (as other racers were falling off the pace left and right). I got to the top, grabbed a banana, my first water of the day, and another gatorade (I now despise gatorade) and began my long solo TT back to the finish. Coming into town, I had lost steam and motivation; at first, it hurt to go slow, so I kept going hard...then, everything began to hurt. I was hungry, out of water, couldn't stomach anymore sugar, and nearly defeated. A group of guys (two of which were my team mates) rolled up behind and gave me a whistle to hop on the train...a free ride home. Thank the lord. Later that evening, about an hour .5 after the finish, I saw my arch nemesis (orange gatorade) again, flying out of my mouth from the deep crypts of my empty belly. I couldn't eat for hours. Finally, my body came around, I inhaled a burrito, a sandwich, some fruit and cereal; I was satisfied. Good news for the day...team mate Chad took 7th!--Round one survived

The next morning came early (5:30 am to eat) for our 8 am start. The race was hard for me from the get-go, and my hamstrings were so tight, you would think I had a come-along attached to my pelvis (for those of you non-rednecks, a come-along is a portable winch-like object that is used when constructing barbed-wire fences...how many hyphenated words do you think I can use in one sentence). So, a long story short, I made it up the big climb two out of three times with the group, and didn't have a 40 mile chase left in my legs. I was fried. I came back to the fee zone with my tail tucked between my legs in defeat--Round 2 KO for JMSR

Round three brought me to Rolla, for my first Mother's day appearance in longer than I am willing to admit. Mom, thanks for being so supportive of my cycling, it was great to get to spend time with you one the one day our country cares to recognize the person who has probably sacrificed the most for each and every one of us. I met up with K, then we spent time with each family throughout the rest of the weekend.

Today, I spun around with Tyrone in the morning and worked of course. This week is recover and recoup for Tri Peaks...More thrills, spills, and hills to come.