|
Written by Caryn Giarratano
|
I am not a sprinter. When the big dogs from my local bike club go for a city limit sign in a rush of male testoserone, I am always left behind. At the end of a race when the participants stand and push a big gear in the sprint for the finish, I go with them but I hurt. As I said, I am not a sprinter.
In June it came time to register for the next race, the Lakota Cup in Columbia, and I was given a choice of three types of races: road race, street sprint and criterium. I have participated in road races and criteriums in the past and checked those boxes...but a street sprint? I?m not good at sprinting, but what the heck!
Saturday after I lost the road race (no worries...I didn't expect to win against all those fast women!) I asked around trying to gather information about the street sprint to be held that night. I figured that I?d race once, lose and go home to rest up for the crit the next day. By 7:45 p.m. I was riding downtown Columbia to warm up. The men began to race around 8:45 and the women began sometime after nine.
The first heat was to ?seed? us. We were to race a very, very short time trial from a standstill with someone holding our bike upright to start. Then we were to stand, shift wildly, mash gears fiercely and then brake suddenly. The two-block race would take less than 30 seconds. Hey that sounds easy! I watched the men. It didn't look easy.
Frantically I began to ask for technique pointers. I rode the first heat and it didn't hurt. OK--I can do this. Three fellow racers tuned my technique. The next heat I raced with another woman. I won! Hey, I think I like this!
Then the headache hit. I felt weak from exhaustion and hunger. It was after 10:30 p.m. It had been a long day and I was tired. In the next heat I was to race two other women to decide who took first, second and third. I feebly tried to rally myself for the challenge. Come on brain...focus!
I began in the wrong gear, my hand slipped off my shifter and I had to sit down to shift. I came in third...the last one in the heat. I began to mentally chastise myself for making a mistake and not doing my best. My friends surrounded me with their enthusiastic congratulations and it dawned on me. I took third place and won money!!
I AM a sprinter!!
|
