There were considerably more riders in this race than I had anticipated. Thankfully, the road was wide and I found a comfortable spot on the outside, which provided me with an escape route in the event of a crash.
In the first lap I heard a crash behind me. In the second lap I heard a crash behind me.
The third crash took place in the final mile of the race. It was the worst sound I have ever heard...until the bodies hit the pavement...and then, THAT was the worst sound I have ever heard. Thankfully, I had enough time to react and hopped the curb. My front tired flatted, I went over the handlebars and landed on my left side in the dirt.
I got back up and walked my bike to the finish line. 35 Riders started the race, 12 crossed the line on their bikes, 3 of us walked there.
It was slightly after 9am. I had been up for five hours, raced my bike about 14 miles, crashed and the only thing I had to look forward to was the long ride back home.
Two hours was way too much time to allow all of what has transpired over the past week to settle in. Last Sunday was disappointing. The crash played on repeat every night. I barely slept. All I thought about was my second chance this weekend. That opportunity came and passed me by. All I have to show for it are more bruises, aches and pains.
This time, it’s difficult to keep it all...the sights, the sounds and most importantly the feelings...from getting into my head.
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