July 24 - Albany Criterium
Race website & results

Race photos: PKPhotoVision.com, Dashaun D. Duffy Photography, Mike Nachtwey

Mary Maroon puts her head down and wins the Womens 1/2 race All photos © PKPhotoVision.com

Women's 1/2/3 report by Holly Roberts, Bay Area Velo Girls

Albany - East Bay oasis

After racing in 104-degree heat the day before in Santa Rosa, I was relieved to drive into Albany, where the temperatures were in the low 70s. In fact, it was kind of chilly in the shade!

Way back in March, we had a training camp. A really fun one, to be exact. One evening, we took turns going around the table, announcing to each other which races we wanted to do well in. Newer racers were being nice and saying, "I want top five" or "top 10" in such-and-such race. Not me. "I want to win the Dash for Cash and the Albany Crit!", I gleefully announced to my teammates. Gulp. Did I really just say that? Out loud? It was too late to take it back, so I thought to myself, "Yeah, I can do that. I'm sure I can do that. Well, I hope I can do that."

Holly takes the Womens 3 victory

Dash for Cash went off as planned. It was time to step up to the plate again. I was worried. The week before the Dash for Cash, was a sleepless one. I pre-played the race in my head 1000 times. I kept visualizing winning it. I wasn't doing that AT ALL this time. I would force myself to visualize the race, only to be distracted by, "I'm hungry. I need to take the trash out. Ooh, I have to pay a bill. My car needs a bath. Don't forget to lube the chain. Did the dog have her heartworm meds yet this month?". ACCCKKK. I couldn't stop it. I wasn't able to visualize this race, not even once.

Back in Albany... I found my teammates, parked the car, and headed off to registration. I found a smiling Liz Varner at registration. We had a nice chat, I met her husband and she asked me the dreaded question: "So, are you going to try to win again this year?". Note to self: pick races to win next year that I didn't win THIS year. Dead giveaway. "I hope so!" was my response, or something of that nature. Two girls (Brianne and Jen Day) the day before had said the same thing to me. Crap. I was marked.

As we warmed up, we discussed strategy. Basically: win the race. Since the 3's were picked separate, we could win the 3's and the 1/2's. A one, two punch. Sweeeeet!

Pat Ross wins in Womens 40+

We rolled around the course, and then lined up at the start in the sunshine. I was kind of nosing my way in between two racers to get into the front row when the official did the unthinkable: "Will all the Cat 3's roll backwards so we can write your numbers down?". AAAACCCCCKKKKKK!!! So much for front row. Now I was firmly planted in the second row. Then the offical says, "Okay, ladies, we're going to have 10 primes today." TEN? Holy crap. We only had five the day before in Santa Rosa and the race was 60 minutes long. This one is only 50 minutes. I quickly do the math and I wanted to cry. Essentially, every other lap or so will be a prime. Great.

We take off and wow. The pace seemed really fast. I felt like I was hanging on for dear life, and then I'd move up a bit on the hill, then slide back, then move up on the hill again. We raced around and around and around, and I could barely tell what was happening up front, as the pack would seem like one long line of racers and I was like one, two, three, five, 10 or 27 back or whatever. We'd slow for the prime sprint and then take off again.

Finally, the pack kind of bunches up (thanks to some blocking that I hadn't noticed), and I spy the break up the road. I have a teammate (Tracey) in it. Cool! And the four up the road are all Cat 1 or 2. Just then, another rider bridges and she's a Cat 3. Now I'm flipping out, and watching the clock. They seem to be getting away (duh, again), so I take off and bridge up to the group. While this was great fun and made perfect sense to me, it caused confusion and didn't really help anyone. Rookie move. We got caught and the race was back ON.

The next thing I know, it's three to go and we start jockeying. Two to go. One to go and bam! I start moving up. It hurt like crazy. I kept thinking, "Less than a lap, just deal with it. Two more corners. One more time up this hill. Less than half a lap". It's like bartering: "Just do this last lap FAST and you can have a tonight." By the time I got to the top of the hill, I was fifth wheel. My teammate Susan was spent and pulled off before the final corner. I yelled at her to keep going and took the last corner fast. I swore the finish line was further last year but it was pretty short (did they move it?) and I finished where I was: fourth overall, first in the 3's!

I was excited about it, but not. I'd gotten a phone call before the race that was upsetting (family news, and it wasn't good). I was a basket case and Lori Cox (our captain) tried to help. "Just race your bike. Try not to think about it till later." Lori, Susan, Tracey, Katie and I raced our bikes. Once it was over and I'd done as I was told (raced my bike) I just let go and cried. I was relieved I'd won, I was upset over my relative, and I was upset that I'd made a bone-headed move during the race. But it's been a little over a week now and I've learned some things. We make mistakes. We talk things through. Family events happen. We learn from these things, we go on, and we do better next time.

And now I'm finally starting to get truly excited. I managed to win both races I said I'd win back in March! I've become a better racer! I hope I've helped my team (I'm pretty sure I have)! I'm having a blast!

Oh crap. I'm sensing another sleepless week, re-playing the way the race went down, how to do things better next time, and how to... well, race my bike.

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