Race Anecdotes: Winter Park Tipperary Classic

Let’s start at the end and work our way backward. It’s easier that way. Or, at least I think it will be.

I crossed the finish line solo. Chris was on a hill taking pictures. Marc was cheering for me. Jackky was on the sidelines clapping. I was relieved to be done with 24 miles and 3000 feet of climbing but I was also despondent. And I don’t know why.

My best guess is that I wasn’t just physically fatigued, but I was mentally drained as well. Having just raced Wednesday at the Highlands Ranch race series and crashing my bike, I had a lot of mental chatter the entire winter park race.

After 23 miles, the last mile of this course is riddled with slimy rocks and roots, scattered just enough to make it difficult to maneuver around, especially when you’re exhausted. And that might have been what tipped me over — literally and mentally.

I found myself unable to clear sections I was able to a couple of weeks before when Marc and I previewed the course. My right cleat lost a bolt so the few times I tried to unclip, I got stuck in my pedal and tumbled.

Never mind the intrusive thoughts that were louder than the singing of Robert Palmer‘s “Bad Case of Loving You.“

Even as I caught up to the Clydesdales and the 60+ men and the 50+ men and single speed…