Probably not super exciting for everyone else. But I had fun writing it (although it didn't go as I planned). Anyway, the jest of the matter is the conference was awesome! My team is awesome! Cycling is awesome! Yay bike racing!
Day 1: 16:30 All packed up and ready for battle, the remaining troops assembled and loaded into the trucks that would take us to the front lines, the final crossing, the point of no return. For some, it had been long, demanding, and brutal fight that had whittled out the strong from the weak. While others, who had joined the ranks later, had felt similar early blows from different opponents. However, they were there: together; they had made it and as the trucks pulled away from home, there was no turning back.
It was a long haul. Legs cramped, eyes blurred, and heads nodded as we followed the gray clouds into the eye of the storm. But Spencer, the only male to make it in our unit trudged on, unbeknownst to what was awaiting us. Upon reaching our quarters for the night, our fearless leaders settled matters with overly-enthusiastic nightman while Martina and I watched the car. Soon, the rest of the brigade filed in. Tired from the long drive and preparing for the battles ahead, people were quiet and slowly slipped into the respectable, mirror-filled, light-blinking rooms.
Day 2: 06:00 After a night, of stuffy-hot, restless sleeping, the first few trekked downstairs. The dark, foreboding sky lured over our heads as we fueled up on bitter, muddy coffee, stale bagels, and mushy oats. As we drove out to the Piacines, we strayed from the path in order to deter the enemy from following our tracks. The battle began promptly at 10:30 as the first of our men headed out along the road.
After a brief and frightening asthma attack, our unit headed out accompanied by my loud (obnoxious) panting for the first 10 miles. It was a smooth start: girls from other units attempted to foil our plans with their horrendous bike-handling skills but we fought on. As we slowly climbed Panoche Pass, we saw stragglers from the men’s groups laid to waste on the side of the road. We held together until mile 10 when two girls set off on an uphill attack. We chased and our group of twenty-five narrowed down to 9.
When we cut the two attackers (both from UCSD), they tried to escape again but, alas, we pulled them back into our group. The girls from Cal and I stayed on the offensive: pulling our way up the hill and amping up the pace to try and remove any free-loaders. We were unsuccessful. The horrendous pink kit could not be removed from our lines. She wouldn’t pull, she wouldn’t do work, she wouldn’t even let you back into the pace line. At the turn-around, we saw those chasing us and, I was pretty certain Martina was going to get back on. Jessica and Erika looked pretty happy as they finished the climb no longer amidst the crazy Cal riders.
It was smooth sailing until the last two kilometers when people realized the end was near. At 1 km, pink kit tried to make a move. I marked her (bad idea) and she faltered. With .4km left, the other girls charged. Legs burning, bikes blurring, we dashed across the white line with StanFUrd as the victor.
15:30 We had a problem; Danny, our only hope for victory, went down and needs to go to the hospital. So as usual, our fearless girls unit (plus Spencer minus me) are called into action. From what I gather, it was a long ER visit. In the San Benito Hospital, x-rays were taken, wounds were stitched up, x-rays were looked at, and wounds were unstitched and restitched taking a total of 7 hours. (side note: Kings won just for Danny!)
Day 3 06:00 The day started the same but without the long drive. The clouds were ominous and looking as though they were ready to bust. On trainers, we strategized and prepared for the 5-corner, flat criterium. Twenty-five women, the largest group so far this year, would start the race. It was fast. From the beginning, Cal’s giant squad made attack after attack. Martina, with her experience, pursued and commanded pursuit of the girls. But alas, the inability to corner by some of the girls and having the horrible luck of getting stuck behind them, pushed some of us to the back. Martina held strong. Pink attacked and Martina was on it. One lap to go, she was right there. 200 meters, Martina was not faltering…. VICTORY!!!
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