This was my first real road race. We began with an easy roll-out led by a beautiful, red Corvette that took off signaling the start of the race. The riders immediately separated and I stuck with the lead peleton only for a couple of minutes. We headed up a long, very gradual hill as I lost speed. Before I knew it, I lead the second peleton and they invited me to drop to the back to take a break.

We split apart as we tackled the hill in front of Marquette Mountain. I led the downhill, but the long, steep climb quickly forced me behind the other riders. I thought this was it: we were riding alone.

Mid-climb, I began feeling better and my cadence picked up. I shifted into a harder gear—’twice—’and caught up with the gal in front of me, whose name is Sarah. I passed her and noticed my new friend, Janet, up ahead. I said to Sarah, “Work with me to catch up to Janet.”

“Ok,” she said in reply. We quickly moved up and I yelled for Janet to pick up her pace and jump on the back of our newly forming peleton. We proceeded forward and picked up another gal. The four of us worked together for quite some while and we picked up riders and dropped riders throughout the race. Janet primarily led the climbs as she was better suited for this; I led the downhills. I could get really low to make myself more aerodynamically friendly and I was able to really pick up speed. We found ourselves speeding up quite a bit even as we coasted. We hit 38.5 mph in front of Marquette Mountain on the return trip.

As we headed to the finish line, I knew I had to plan my breakaway. The time came when we were nearing the end and I took off. I didn’t know it, yet, but Sarah was hot on my trail, er, road. We were heading for a strong wind and I selfishly asked her if she wanted to lead the way a bit. She said, “sure,” and helped me regain my energy for a final sprint. I don’t think she knew what she was doing, but I sure appreciated it. We rounded the corner bringing the finish line within view and I took off. I was the first of my peleton to finish and it wasn’t a moment too soon.

My legs had been hinting for the last several miles that they were ready to strike. They had it. My adductor muscles (upper inner thigh) were tightening immensely and immediately halted my ride so I couldn’t do a cool-down on the bike. I stopped, in great pain, and managed to finagle myself off the bike. I didn’t really walk. I couldn’t. I merely shifted my hips to get my legs to move in such a fashion that would produce a forward motion. I used the bike kind of like a walker, although it was more of a burden at this point.

I attempted to stretch these muscles, but found that any stance, other than feet together, called upon the necessity of these muscles for stabilization. Simply put, I was screwed. I took about thirty minutes to simply move. While I chatted with my team mate, Pat, I marched in place. This seemed to help a bit. I wasn’t able to stretch until later. Sure, I could’ve lain on the ground, but then there was the issue of getting back up. It wasn’t happening.

It was a very rewarding race. I got first in my age group, even though the Superior Bike Fest didn’t award for age groups. The pain was worth it, though, and I proved to myself that I could fiercely race. I showered, stretched, and headed to a party with the Chocolay ACE Hardware Cycling Team for some beer, brats, and bugs.