Tesserete Racer Bikes Cup

I am surprised I'm not keeling over right now from lack of motivation.  Motivation to stand, to write the blog, to ride my bike... to race a world cup in one week.  I'm surprised, because despite the horribly upsetting results of yesterday's race, I still feel extremely motivated.  This surprises me because usually following an embarrassing defeat, I am subject to lack of motivation just like the next guy.  Not the case this time.  This time, the defeat has only made me more resilient to adversity.  

I thought I got last in Schaan, when in fact, I was two whole places out of last.  

I knew I got last yesterday... Dead Last.  And this time, I was not incorrect in my knowing.  Out of the 50 or so finishers, I was the last to cross it--running with a flat tire from across the finish line in the pouring rain.  The race was a nightmare, let me tell you.

The course in Tesserete was a fantastic combination of climbing and descending, smooth and technical.  It was a mountain biking dream course.  90% of the race was singletrack, which wove in and out of thick forest and wrapped around trees and rocks.  After an unexpectedly sunny pre-ride on Saturday, I fell in love with the 7km loop.  Unfortunately, no amount of love for the course could change the weather, and--about halfway through the first lap, the sun left for good, and so did my strength to keep with the Elite pack.  

The first lap was comparable to unclogging a sink.  The gun sounded, and the Drain-O exploded us out of the starting gate.  70 riders on a winding path-- 6-8 riders across in a section of trail that could only fit 3 or 4.  Elbows flew, handlebars caught, knees and hands pushed for position.  I watched... from the back.  I had started there, and instead of mixing into the starting frenzy, I layed low, and made my move on the technical back stretch.  Unfortunately, this was not the best of tactics.  By the time I was able to make it past the 10 or 15 riders at the back of the pack, the front groups had already created a gap, and I had a hard time closing it.  This first lap effort, for me, was a success, and I rolled through the finish in a decent position, 5 or ten riders from the back.  My success was short felt, however.  With the start of the second lap, I felt great, but obviously the riders around me had more power.  By the end of lap 3, I was in dead last... and I knew it.  I rode alone for the rest of the race.  Utterly alone.  It was an effort to keep racing--how can you race against no one but yourself and expect to compete?  It was like racing my heart out for a reassuring pat on the back--mind you, not a very rewarding exchange for 2 and a half hours of pain and suffering.  I rode for myself, for my family cheering me on back home, for Meghan, who herself would be racing her heart out in Fruita in several hours, for Ashley, who would support me, no matter what place, for the community that brought me up, and taught me that this sport is about more than just winning, or losing.  I rode my own race, unaware to the muffled cheers that preceded me, unaware of the embarrassment I might feel after the race when, as if on a queue from irony, I was asked in amazement, "You are racing in Offenburg?!", unaware that the pain of last place would be short this time, and I would continue on with my training within 24 hours...  I rode alone for 5 laps, and then I flatted.  With 3 kilometers to go, I jumped off my bike and ran.  I ran like I had nothing to lose, like I was actually fighting for a podium spot.  In reality, I was already a good 3 minutes behind the rider ahead of me, and no one was coming to catch me from behind.  I ran so hard that my legs gave way at the finish--running in cycling cleats through the foot-deep mud is no easy task, and I didn't stop, not even to let Florian Vogel by on his way to victory.  I ran away from the pain and the embarrassment of my result, and the seeming ineffectively of my training.  I ran until i was so fatigued that nothing mattered, and this, in the end, is what saved my race.  Because I beat myself into a pulp, I could feel no regret for my race, only relief that the pain was over.  Today, I don't remember much of the event, only a sort of emptiness of looking down at a flat tire and realizing that I could not just stop.  

I remember thinking, towards the end of the run, "If I don't make it in this sport, I could always go back to running."  

I continue to run, hypothetically, hoping that the despair of my horrible race will not catch up to me, and that I won't start seriously considering the obvious--that next weeks World Cup in Offenburg could be very very difficult.  No doubt.

I continue to stay on my feet, I do not back down, because of one thing.  I know that I'm in the best shape of my life, and I will come back to the U.S. and prove it.  That is the only thing on my mind.  That and Ashley, and family, and home... Homesickness is a terrible thing--if you have the choice, take a 3 week vacation, not a 3 month one.  If you're training over seas, take a good book (or 10) and a picture of the ones you love.  (I have a whole laptop full).  That is enough to keep your homesickness down for at least a week. After that, you're on your own.

Oh yes, petty details -- The Tessin Valley is beautiful.  The church bells in Tessrete ring loudly every half-hour ALL NIGHT.  The camping in Tesserete is 20 meters from the Church.  Church bells, if slept through, can create the most incoherently terrifying dreams.  Roots and mud and slop don't mix.  If you get a sponsorship from Schwalbe, make sure that they keep their end of the deal, and SEND YOU TIRES (I am utterly out of tires... and money.)  Anyone wishing to donate to the Kevin Is Broke (aka only $80 and still 5 weeks in Europe) Fund can wire it directly to my parents... without them, I wouldn't be here, so my first plan of action upon returning home and getting a job is to pay them back.  Depending on the results from the U23 race in Sea Otter today.. right now... I will be chosen or declined for a USA camp in Germany for 3 weeks starting May 13.   Life of Pi is a painstakingly religious book for 50 pages, and takes a turn for the better over the last 200.  I love good books.  Life of Pi is a good book.  Matthias won in Tesserete by 3 minutes.  An exciting and somewhat unexpected victory.  He is extremely happy, and was the first of the swiss riders selected for the World Cups (by Beat, mind you.)  Kathrin had another unfortunate race--broke her fork with one lap to go, she was in 5th in the Elite category, and first in u-23. Despite the bad luck, Kathrin is taking it hard on herself, a painful thing to see for a young determined rider like her.  I felt great training today.  Matthias didn't feel so good - at least he's still human.

I need sleep, and a shower.