[portfolio_slideshow id=4712 width=1300] I spent the weekend riding Single Track in the Santa Cruz Mountains. We climbed over 10,000 feet and I had a few nasty spills. Still it’s Tuesday and I am pedaling to the 2nd Rapha Portland Trophy Cup at the Portland International Raceway. My body is tired and I am hoping the nine mile ride will wake me up.
The field is a litte deeper today. The B’s are restless. I am in the 2nd row; quiet and already feeling defeated. We sprint. I am pushed into the edge of the course. My front wheel dances with orange cones as we race for the first turn. I have no energy to battle and I fade into the middle of the pack. I shouldn’t be here.
This is my third cyclocross race ever and I’ve come to really really like it. It’s fucking fun and I am stoked with the atmosphere that is built around it. Tonight I learned a valuable lesson. I learned to listen to my body and that it’s ok to take time off the bike. I also learned how to deal with the consequences when things just don’t go your way.
At some point in the race I had to grab the brakes to avoid a collision with another rider. I was on his wheel and he took the corner much slower than I had anticipated. In attempt to stop myself from flipping over the bars I got tangled up in the bike. The front edge of the saddle came down with great force onto my tailbone. The pain was excruciating but I thought I could just ride it off. I finished the race and my tailbone didn’t really hurt until I got home later that night.
It’s three days later and I still can’t ride a bike. It’s really painful to sit and uncomfortable in general. I am bummed but focused on healing. I’ll be at next weeks race to cheer on my friends but only time will tell if I’ll be able to race the rest of the series.
Racing is hard.