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[personal profile] ninevirtues
I am in Daytona Beach. It's nice and sunny here. Ophelia is currently parked off the Carolina Coast, e.g. nowhere near me. When I returned to my car, parked at the Jacksonville airport, it was fine.

Weekend race results:

Saturday-- Elon Crit.

I arrived at the starting line only to find that the open women's race (6 people) has been combined with the Cat 4 race (mine). Last time that happened was the Dilworth Crit (where I got spat out the back of the pack on the first lap, and then got my butt chewed by national caliber riders when I tried to get back in the pack when they caught me). Dilworth was not a good day.

Today, though, I managed to stay with the pack for five whole minutes (Yesss!!!! Progress!!!!), then worked with someone else, won a prime (Okay, the other person let me win, but still-- the prime prize was a photo, and I now have a picture of me sprinting and winning a prime; how cool is that? ;-) When we got lapped, we hopped back in the pack and I managed to stay with them.

Sunday-- Carolina Cup

This was a Cat 4 race-- six laps that were 1.5 miles long. I didn't get a chance to preride the course beforehand, so I pulled the pack for most of the first lap at a sane pace (figuring I would craftily use that as my preride). That strategy backfired on me, though, because when I tried to pull off to the side and get someone else to pull... they wouldn't do it. Hey!!!

Fine. I slowed down to tourist pace and waited for someone else to come around me. Eventually someone, or more accurately two someones, did come around and I happily got behind them.

At one point, four people got away from me, and I ended up busting tail to get back to the pack of four. Just as I caught up to them, though, two people took off the front. Oh, no! I need to stay with the leaders! I tried to come around the slower last one, rubbed my front wheel against her rear wheel, and fell hard onto the pavement.

Arrrrgghhh!

I got up, discovered I had dropped my chain, and got it back on. The motorcycle ref asked, "Do you want a free lap?" Uh, yeah, of course I do. So I headed back to the starting line, only to be told that free laps ended after the third lap (i.e. there is no free lunch, I mean, free lap for me).

Arrrrghhh! I would have taken off like a bullet if I'd known that, but instead I wasted time moseying in a leisurely fashion to the start line. Grrr!!! I turned around and went off like a rocket, battered pride, skinned knees and elbows, and all.

End result: I was DFL (Dead....F'ing...Last) for the first time in my career. But I got a good workout out of it, and I have an impressive-looking bruise and scrape collection today. Live and learn, specifically, learn not to cross wheels when you try to pass someone.
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