Race Anecdotes: Estes Epic

To win a bike race, you first gotta show up.

As we corralled in front of the start line at The Estes Epic, I smiled across to my husband, and told a couple of riders, “good luck.” My legs were heavy and so was my mind. Everyone started as a group — I didn’t know who I was competing against. I assumed I was grouped with the 30-year olds since that was my racing age, although I was technically 29. The 30-something’s were a force to reckon with. I knew I had to get in front of them.

I wanted to add to the small number of women who were competing, especially after heated conversations about women’s bike racing. Maybe I wanted an ego boost because I knew not many women participated in the Estes Epic. It’s a 34-mile course with over 5,000 feet in elevation gain. It’s mostly dudes, as I found out. And after completing it, I understood why women weren’t coming out in droves.

Because I didn’t preview the whole course, I didn’t even know what I signed up for.

As we all pedaled out of the parking lot on to the main street, I told myself to keep steady; to stay on Kristi’s wheel. I didn’t have to get in front of anyone just yet. I could save my energy for the climbs.

The group thinned almost instantly as we hit Fish Creek Road. We had 1,000 feet or so of climbing ahead of us in the first 8.5 miles. I was anxious to get in front of people because I knew they’d catch up once we descended.