I’ve had the great fortune of not having any mechanicals during my races over my short, two-year, mountain bike racing career—not even a flat. I guess today could follow that trend, depending on how you look at it.

This was possibly the best race preparation I’ve ever had. I wasn’t hungover; I had a full-night’s sleep; I had a healthy breakfast: latte, bagel, fruit salad; and I didn’t forget to bring anything. Fifteen minutes before the race start, I noticed my rear brake handle was super-soft. I checked the rear wheel, and it wouldn’t turn easily. Uh-oh. I saw one of the Cross Country Sports mechanics, Bill, whose son was racing, and asked him to look at the bike.

Apparently, the brake pad had fallen off and, with no spare, there was nothing he could do. He pried the brake apart so the wheel would spin freely, and told me not to use the rear brake. I told him that the rear brake would be engaged simply out of habit and thought I was going to have to drop out of the race—with only a few minutes to spare. I asked him if he could disconnect the brake. Ah, we were onto something.

As the National Anthem played, Bill removed the rear brake, line, and handle from the bike. He told me to ride carefully. Um, ok.

I admit, I was upset. Even as a short rain fell, the only thing I could think about was the brake. So, it was time for self talk.

“Di, brake gently.
Di, you can do this. It’s a flat race.
Di, you’re a front braker, anyway.
Di, you still want a podium finish.”

That was it. I WANTED MY PODIUM FINISH! Grrr.

You see, I got eighth place in my category, last year. Eighth place is so close you can taste it. I honestly could not give up doing a race after acquiring eighth place. It is just sooooo close. I had to do Ore to Shore one more time. I just had to. I knew I could get a podium finish with the right preparation and the right seeding.

Let me tell you: I was fast. The sand was wet and packed from the previous night’s storm and our little pre-race rain. I, without a rear brake, found myself completely unable to hold back. Screw that. Holding back isn’t fun. I did my normal kamikaze style riding and loved it. I actually had fun.

Thanks to the riders around me, I was able to clear the hills as people around me failed. I really do mean thank you, because they did a great job getting out of my way, and did so courteously. One guy had a heck of a time getting a particularly steep uphill and dabbed a couple times in front of me. He was trying his hardest not to get in my way. It probably didn’t help that I was following him up the hill for the most part. I also think it was hard for him to ride it because people around him were falling. Seriously, what is a person to do but one’s best? I recognized his stellar manipulation of that hill and thanked him for moving and told him that he did an awesome job as I rode by him at the top of hill. Shortly after, he caught up to me and apologized for falling in front of me (he didn’t really fall). I told him not to worry and that I was actually quite impressed with how he cleared the way for me.

Another comment I received somewhere near that area came from a guy from downstate. He rode up behind me and remarked about how my rear tire slid out “on those rocks back there.”

“They did?” was my reply.

“Yeah, they did,” to paraphrase. I told him that I didn’t even notice it, but rocks are a pretty normal thing for me to ride back home. Its funny how your body learns to compensate for little things like rear tires slipping out. You don’t even notice it half the time.

Wood chip hill, also known as Kerby’s hill, I think, is at the end of the race. It is a respectably long, steep climb that most people walk. I fully expected to walk it, but I gave it my all to ride. As people cheered around me, I made it to the top, quite proud of myself. The only problem was that I now had to deal with burning thighs. Yay. I did a quick recovery spin and proceeded to finish the last couple miles of the race.

It was all I could muster, but I managed to slowly spin faster and faster in my hardest gear to pass a few guys before the finish line. I was involved in a sprint to the finish with another guy, and decided to relax and give it to him because I was already riding at my max. I just couldn’t beat him. That’s ok.

Di’s 3rd place trophy for women 30-35.

After all of that, I earned third place—and I do mean earn—and my desired spot on the podium. I have now released myself from any necessity to do any future Ore to Shores. Yeah, right.