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Thursday, December 10, 2009
LARPD #7. Race Report #8. The neverending story.
First and foremost, thanks TC. I would have never closed the cavernous gap to FTM if it wasn't for that effort of yours. I'm just sorry I didn't have anything left to finish it off. I tried, despite appearances, I really did. It was nice to have the HLN8R there too. 1st time all season. Sorry I couldn't win it for you babe. The truth is, I had no such illusions (or should it be delusioins) going in. Not only was MFS on hand having won the last 5 races and peaking for Nats, but FTM showed up as well as Phil (coming off an illness, but clearly on the rebound). At this point, I have lost so much fitness to think of wins, but I've still been clinging to two modest goals; the series win and upgrade points. As usual, it went off hard and I tried to stay with a few of the Open and Masters As to create some gaps. MFS, FTM and Phil thought like wise and the four of us got away. We didn't stay together long. Phil slide out on a deceptively slick 180 and I went down too. I was milking his wheel fro all it was wirth. MFS and FTM got around. Phil got untangled first and sprinted to latch on. I could not do likewise. A lap later, I saw that FTM had fallen off the pace. It was at this moment that TC came rolling though and I jumped his wheel. That boy can motor. It hurt like hell to hold on the long straights, but we were pulling back FTM. Maybe there was a point up for grabs after all. Unfortunately, TC started to fade about 5 bike lengths from making contact and I faded with him. By the time I had enough oxygen in my brain to form a cogent thought and pull around, that gap had grown to 7 lengths. From there it just kept growing, inch by inch. It's not a course on which one can hide so FTM just marked me. I tried to close the gap, but every acceleration I could muster was countered. I languished there for the remainder of the race, losing more and more ground as my demoralization deepened. As luck would have it, MFS snapped the spider of his crank at the most distant point from the pit and eneded up DFL. Gots me a point afterall, curtesy of those fickle gods of cross. In cross, you just never know.