Photo by Laura Austin
Words by Kelton Wright
THURSDAY, T-MINUS 2 DAYS TO RACE DAY
It was Thursday, and given that my race was Saturday, it seemed justifiable that I should have some nerves. I’d had nerves since the moment I’d registered 35 days prior, so at that point, my body was exhausted from worrying. Worry aside, things were already not going to according to plan. I thought my body and I had made a devil’s pact that my PMS would peak on race day and I would be at the threshold of undirected anger and hate fuel, but instead my body had betrayed me the night prior and I would be racing in my drops – which would be the closest I could get to fetal position on the bike. Fine.
Given that this was my first race, there are already some very basic things that were blowing my mind including but not limited to the prospect of riding without my phone, having to eat without stopping, and apparently going without my saddlebag. When I asked my coach (aka “boyfriend”) what I was supposed to do if I flatted, he said lose. OK, Coach. If I’m being honest, it crossed my mind …read more
From:: Pretty Damned Fast