A long time coming

Bike racing — if you do it right — really, really hurts. It's how you manage the hurt and how fast you can go while making it hurt that determines your success. On the best days, you can dig deeper than you'd otherwise believe. When you're done, you feel the deepest kind of satisfaction.

It's been a long time since I felt that way. I almost forgot what it was like.

Coming into the Omaha Cycling Weekend, I was most concerned with being able to bounce back between races. Temperatures and humidity were both ridiculous, making recovery even more important than normal. In short, I drank a lot of Gatorade. So much Gatorade that I don't want to write any more about it. But it made a huge, huge difference.

The weekend started with the Elkhorn Time Trial (photo by Dan Farnham, by the way). The roads northwest of my house are familiar and friendly, so the revamped course was nothing new for me. But the terrain and wind were ideal for both getting a fast start and then bringing it home at the end.

I got off to a solid, easy start with the intention of pouring it on in the final half. For as infrequently as I ride my TT bike, I'm always comfortable on it. The position is just right for me and my cranky back. I settled in as the course rolled on and caught my 30-second man just over halfway through.

I was the final Cat. 3 starter and the really fast guys were up ahead a bit. I really had no idea how fast I was going compared to everybody else. I just kept everything in check as long as I could.

Up the big hill near the end, I hit a comfortable gear and spun my way up. As soon as the road eased, I threw it back into the big ring and cranked it up. With about a mile to go, I saw Lee Bumgarner of Flatwater Cycling turn onto the course from the left and head down the homestretch. My initial thought: "Damn! He's already cooling down? Wow!"

I crossed the line pretty satisfied with my ride. Only one of the Cat. 1/2 guys caught me, and he didn't do it until about 100 meters from the end. Really, I was just hoping to be in the money, which went six deep.

When the results were posted, I was ... wait ... second? That can't be right. Second? Huh? As it turns out, Brady won, Jonathan Wait (another teammate) was second and I was actually third. Lee, who I thought was cooling down, actually was coming back onto the course after taking a wrong turn. Ultimately I would have been fourth, but that's not how things played out.

Third in the TT. A good start to the weekend.

When I got home, I cleaned up, ate more, drank lots more and remained very still in the dark, cold basement. It was every bit as awesome as it sounds.

Later that afternoon, we packed up the car ... again ... and headed down to the Papillion Twilight Criterium (photo by Chris). It was hot. Just stupid, stupid hot. I felt like I was drinking constantly before the race, but it was pretty much required to stay alive.

When I was preriding the course, I was struck by how tight the corners were. I hadn't ridden there since 2008, when I had a nice day in the Cat. 4 race. I didn't remember the streets being that narrow. But after a few laps, I felt comfortable again and was ready to roll.

We had seven guys in the race, so the goal was to win it, of course. I got off to a decent start, strung stuff out and just tried to stay near the front in order to be helpful later. A few moves went, a few came back and then a few more took off. After Brady and Ryan got into the break, Matt, Jonathan and I settled into the chase group and tried to hold a few guys off.

After a preme lap, things got all split up again and I got separated from the chase. I ended up finishing on my own, mindful to keep the tempo as high as I could so nobody who got dropped earlier would come back up to me. I ended up 11th, which is ... meh.

It was a hard night. Trying to accelerate felt like riding a bike in a swimming pool. Those who had the snap to make things happened deserved the good results that followed.

Afterward, as I headed to the tent to get some water, I got a little light-headed and paused for a minute or two. Pretty quickly I felt like I had about 15 EMTs hovering around me. They must have been bored, because I told them I'd be fine in a few minutes — and I was. I know I looked bad and I appreciated the concern, but it wasn't that bad.

I drank lots (and lots and lots and lots) and hung around for the Pro/1/2 race, helped fold up the tents and headed home. I finally felt like eating — really eating — at about 10:30. I got in bed around midnight and fell into a nice, fitful sleep. Great.

What better way to top off a weekend than with a 70-some-mile race with temperatures in the 90s and all but zero shade on the course? The Dave Babcook Memorial Road Race rolled out around 10 a.m. using mostly the same roads as the time trial the day before.

We — and by 'we' I mean all of the racers — were fortunate to have tremendous support from the race organization for neutral water bottles. After the first four laps or so, I took a bottle every time up and dumped it on my head. Our team especially benefited from Mike Munson and Kevin Gilinsky doing hand-ups the whole race. Their support was huge, and I know I wouldn't have finished — let alone ridden well — without them.

To be honest, I was hoping merely for survival. But I felt pretty good considering what I went through the day before. On the second or third lap, Marc Walter rolled away and Lou Waugaman chased. They stayed out there for a lap or two.

Then Justin Maresh and Lee rolled off on maybe lap five or so. I thought briefly about jumping on that train, but I figured that was a one-way ticket to ... well ... death, possibly. So I watched it roll off and didn't worry too much about it.

On the next lap, on the tailwind part, I happened to be near the front of the bunch when Chris Spence said, "Go for it. I won't chase you." Then Ryan said, "I'll give you $500 if you go chase down Justin and Lee." $500? Really? "OK, $100. I can do $100 today."

Hey, $100 is a lot of money. Plus, they might actually let me go. So I went. I didn't stand up and drill it so much as pull away slowly. I made it up and over the hill (which was tough, but not as bad as everybody made it out to be) and got rolling again. After about a half lap, Brady and Ian Robertson brought the bunch back up to me.

"What are you doing up here?" they both asked. Ummm ... trying to get away. Didn't you see me go? They didn't. So I sat in and had a drink and a gel and enjoyed the ride.

A few minutes after this picture was taken (by Dan Farnham, again), we were back on the little tailwind part. Said Spence: "I tried to let you go, man. Go with Kyle this time."

So rolled up to Kyle and said, "Let's do something silly." We rolled off the front again, but a little faster than the time before. Near the top of the hill, a group of 1/2 riders and a couple of 3s came up to us. The 1/2 group punched it when we turned the corner, leaving the 3s alone.

I was content to let them go because, well, that move didn't concern me. Lee was still the only 3 up the road and there were four or five more right alongside me. But on the cross-headwind part, Mark Merritt (Joyride) attacked hard to try to get back up to the 1/2 bunch. I covered it and pulled Brady and the others up, but couldn't hold on. I popped a few seconds later and watched them roll off.

There were now four money positions up the road and the shelled remains of the field behind me. I worked with Kyle and Ben Dilley (Team Type I) for a lap before Kyle rode off on the hill. After that, I was Ben and I, with me spending most of the time on the front.

For the last lap and a half, we could see a few guys ahead of us, but they weren't close enough for us to say, "Let's go for it." It was more like, "Well, if we get closer, we'll do it. But let's just aim for not dying out here."

Up the final hill, I pulled away from Ben to take sixth. And then I promptly sat down in the shade, asked my teammates to cover me in ice and then stayed very still. About 20 minutes later, I felt much better, climbed on the bike and rolled back to the starting line with Sydney.

Way up on the first paragraph of this post (thanks for getting down this far, by the way), I mentioned how rewarding it felt to be able to dig deep and ride as hard as you could. Would I have been able to hold after that attack had I not gone off the front twice? Maybe. But I had to try.

Even more importantly, I felt like I could make it work. I felt good. I haven't been able to say that for so long.

Today, I feel a little less than good, as is to be expected. My back is a little sore and I'm starting to get hungry every 30 minutes or so. I'll take the week pretty easy and then figure out what comes next. There are a few crits and road races in August that could be interesting, but we'll have to see how things are money-wise when they come up.

Thanks again to the promoters and volunteers, and of course to my teammates. And also to Chris and Jack, who encourage and support me far more than I often deserve.