the silver lining: my first cross race.

I didn't want to shade this post with this brighter one, nor dishonor my last post by continuing with chitchat about how September hasn't been so bad so far. But September hasn't really been so bad, so far.



Pumpkin beer is back. It's still hiding, it's still a slick shadow dancing on buildingsides as I pass. It also doesn't help that I don't hang out in bars, or particularly like them, or go to neighborhoods where the bars are that have this sort of thing. But last night I fell asleep on the couch with Evan watching Airplane! with a barely-finished bottle of Dogfish Head's Punkin Ale. (lookit them hotlinks!) The Punkin isn't my favorite, because Southern Tier's Pumking Imperial is. But still, there's not much better with cuddlin' up with a hot babe on a chilled Saturday night with a delicious beer and a funny and emotionally calming (if a bit misogynistic) flick. Drinking the same beer while writing a blog post doesn't have quite the same zest, but it's a good life I live, regardless of the many shortcomings that have been abridged here on this blog.



Another highlight of yesterday was that I raced my very first Cross Race. I rode my good sturdy San Jose (single speed, steel), with flat bars. Typically, I've been told, this would have been a big of a disadvantage, but there was some serious single-tracking and rooty business and I think the mountain bike set-up was to my advantage, especially since I've been mountain biking a few times a week. The race was in Ohio, at Manatoc, a beautiful course with a pine forest, two sand pits, some barriers to prance over, a gravel pit, and wide swooping stretches of grassy field. I came in about 17th out of 38, and crossed the finish line with a woman right in front of me who was also a beginner (the other of the three total women racing yesterday was a few people back). Every time I saw a wheel I caught it, and once I caught it I tried to pass it. Every time I saw someone coming up behind me I rode faster. And when it was just me on the open trail I thought about Brian, about the pain of being beaten to death, the pain of loss, about Brian's wonderful family and that asshole Toppi who murdered my friend, and any pain I felt in my legs just turned crist and irrelevent.



I saw Jen (the beginner broad who beat me) cutting up across me right as someone said, "this is the finish" and it didn't register that it was the real finish, the end-of-the-race finish, and didn't sprint to beat here 'til it was too late. No problem, though, it was fun and we hung out for a bit afterwards and talked about how awesome it was. It also showed me how much harder I need to, and more importantly am able to, push myself physically in order to get better "results." I have absolutely no concept of where my absolute threshold lies, and usually ride at what I consider "comfortably painful." Feel the burn and all that, but nowhere near wanting to puke. I might never get to that level. I might be physically both above and beyond that point so that my insides can never be sickened by the pressure thrown upon them by my mususcular aptitude. I actually think that's a bunch of baloney but maybe I'll figure it out at cross practice on Tuesday.



A fun thing about racing (besides the race) was that I was no longer a spectator but I was a part of the event. People cheered me on during the race. Others saw me riding by during my cooldown and said, "hey you did great out there." I met the other two women who were racing in the lower level with me, and I met another woman who had just gotten into mountain biking this summer and loved it. I raced with her husband, who'd been to New Mexico (I was wearing my lucky Zia kit) and talked about the sky, the air, the enchantment. It was nice to not have a dog, a fiance, a poem or essay to manage in some way (remember the time I lost all my paperwork for class at a cross race a few years ago and couldn't critique anyone's work for two classes? Probably not, but I do). I don't usually care about being part of anything and even when it's my party I honestly feel detached on some level, but after the bad break-up with August I felt great comfort in these strangers' support and kindness.



Next weekend is Nittany Lion Cross, the official first race of the season. There's already 20-something broads registered in the CAT 3/4, some of them probably a hell of a lot faster and more fit than I am. So this week, there's a lot of anger, frustration, and pain to ride through to build up my endurance, fitness, and apathy to pain for next weekend. I am also getting a new bike which may or may not be built up in time. It's a Redline Conquest frame, with blown out Campy parts that, at least when in good condition, are too good for anything I'd ever want to do to a bicycle.



Now, if I can just squeeze a good tour in before the snow falls I'll be in good form for my depressing winter hybernation.