The eve of the Gateway Spring Criterium ("Tilles") was looking bleak as I lay face down in my bed, having moved there after my sob-fest on the couch after the Hillsboro Roubaix.I had texted Dan, my coach, while driving home from the race and was happy that he couldn't return my call until after I got the crybaby nonsense out of my system...
I needed to talk to him about tomorrow. I needed him to un-freak me out about the race at Tilles.
I needed to do well.
I needed to stop mind-screwing myself.
I needed him to tell me that although I had not trained properly that week, there was still a shred of hope for me to get what I wanted out of the Tilles race.
Let me tell you, there is no bullshitting your coach. There's no point. So I told him the 20 different ways in which I had sucked at Hillsboro and the additional 20 different things that I could have/should have done differently to not suck at Hillsboro.
Thankfully, Dan's not the type of coach who makes you feel like shit about things, but he doesn't blow sunshine up your ass or allow you to lie to yourself either.
We talked a good long while while I drove to meet Jay.
I really wanted to be feeling better by the time I saw Jay because I knew otherwise I would look at him and burst into tears.
Dan and I set my goals and strategy for the race the next day and I felt everything lift from my shoulders.
Jay and I have a nice evening relaxing with some friends and the time flies by quicker than expected and suddenly it is 1am and I am still awake riding the pain train while Jay is out like a baby.
I awake early and were about to enjoy our morning time together when (tell me if this sounds familiar from another race morning) we hear the outside door open.
We both pop up and look at each other in confusion.
It's 7am on Sunday morning. Who the hell is here?!?!
Jay runs out and it's Tim. There bright and early to get some work done on building the deck.
(Considering that we kept Tim up late with martinis, we are amazed!)
*sigh*
Alright. Time to act like adults.
Jay gets to work and I catch up on emails and get ready to hit the races.
I go through the methodical (and relaxing) process of getting my stuff together and am excited when Steph calls to tell me she has a spot saved for the tent and chairs.
In my mind, I will get there early enough to see Phil race. In reality, I looked at the wrong race time and will miss his race, but get there just as it has ended.
(He did REALLY well though and got 4th even after someone wrecked him.)
STRONG!
We decide that we are going to go on a warm-up ride on Litzinger.
A nice group of us heads out on the wet road and it still feels like a good decision until...
(This is sort of funny...)
A (gray) Toyota FJ Cruiser with the license plate "NAMASTE" and a "COEXIST" bumper sticker decides that regardless of the wet roads and the posted 30 MPH speed limit, he/she is tired of these effing cyclists on his/her road (he/she owns it, you know) and revs his/her big and beefy engine and buzzes us.
Apparently he/she does NOT see the light and beauty in cyclists and coexisting only applies to religions and not vehicles vs. bicycles.
I mean, he/she may as well have leaned out the power window and yelled, "Peace, Mutha F*ckers!"
While Alice and I are laughing about this, we are soon experiencing the fury of a BMW driver who also feels the speed limit and the law where thou must not mow down cyclists is merely a suggestion....but at least he/she pulls a dramatic James Bond and simply drives entirely in the wrong lane so that we can all see just how put out he/she is.
(I'm sure he/she was on his/her way to church and we were impeding his/her salvation.)
I am thinking, "Seriously?!?!? I cannot be killed by a motorist before this effing race!!! I bought beer! I never buy beer!"
I do not think this was what Dan meant when he told me to get my heart rate up before the race.
We return to the park and I feel pretty good.
We chat with the guys who have finished the Cat 3 race and cheer on the Juniors. Then we're up. We ride the course and line up.
The wheel I had done my visualization on is racing a different race.
Crap!
I mentally regroup and visualize my new wheel.
I position myself where Dan wants me and play the waiting game.
Interestingly enough, when the whistle blows, my left foot slips off my pedal and I can't clip in.
(Naturally.)
I pedal but have lost my position as we hit turn 1.
I clip in and turn it up.
I need to get through the back side of the course so I can recover a wee bit.
Done!
I settle in and am where Dan (and me) want me in the race.
At one point I find myself pulling in a spot where I do not want to pull.
I can hear Cristel and Deana talking to me and I keep my focus.
I have no worries about getting out of this and do what I need to.
We play the game and I am happy to see Kate working her plan.
At one point on the back of the course I am with Steph and the field is splitting.
I say, "Let's go" and we go.
We rotate our wheels and work it nicely.
We are again back where we want to be in the pack. Steph and I are in the top 10% and we come up on the Women's Open field.
We look at each other.
What the hell do we do???
Do we pass them?
Left or right?
A ripple of shrugs goes through our field and then, we collectively (and figuratively) say "Fuck it" and we go.
"ON YOUR RIGHT!" we call out...and we pass them.
It's a little funny because I cannot lie that part of me wondered if we should play it smart and follow their lead. I mean, the whole energy conservation thing seemed to be working for them...
Regardless, we pass...
Another lap or so and they pass us.
I am off the front. (Dammit!)
One of them leans over and says to me, "Hang back for 10 seconds or so."
I think, "Sure. Sure. Let me shoot out a memo to the rest of the field."
I smile at her. It was funny, but I knew as soon as I let up, there would be an attack.
I quietly thought, "No, you guys go fassssster!"
We continue on and the mere fear of being DQ'd for working with their field made our field hang loose for a bit...but only for a short while.
I sure as shit wasn't being DQ'd. This race was going to count for me, come hell or high water.
26 minutes into the race, I am still feeling OK...until we hit the back side of the course.
We dropped off the back.
Steph, Suzanne, Alice and me.
Hello???
Suzanne asks if we are going to work together or bridge.
Steph says we are going to bridge together.
We are going to do 3 short pulls for 20 seconds. Her computer is out and Suzanne is going to count.
I'm in...for a second.
I feel my stomach rise in my throat and my nose starts to burn.
(Holy shit! You have just GOT to be kidding me!!! I cannot puke right now!! What the hell?!?!?)
I make a sound as my stomach retches.
Steph hears it and Alice sees it and asks if I'm OK.
I tell her I am, but I drop off.
I keep it down.
I hang in, but there is no hope that I am getting back on.
4 more laps.
I refuse to sit up.
I refuse to slow down.
I am dead on the back of the course, but I stand and push through.
Coming over the hill I hear it.
Breathing.
Hard.
Rhythmic.
I think it will be Kloah bridging to me so that we can work the rest of the race.
I look over my left and it's Kate.
Sweaty.
Working.
HARD.
She broke away!
Holy shit!
She is breaking away from Kaboom (one of the strongest racers out there)!
Holy shit!
(I know I said that, but seriously...this is not the last lap!!!)
I said, "Are you winning?"
(Which is a joke between a few of us with her...)
...and she replies, "Yes."
Very simply.
I smiled.
I believed her.
Holy shit!
Kate is going to win!
She effing wants it!
I see Kaboom coming and I speed up as she passes.
I am not missing this.
We lap around and as I approach the final turn I cannot see it.
I can hear it...
I see Ron (The Hub) and ask if Kate won.
She did!!!
I scream and cheer for her as I take the turn and raise the roof in her honor.
"Raise the roof for Kate Hrubes!!!"
I complete my last lap and I am so freaking happy that I cannot see straight!
I can't wait to see Kate and even as I type this, I am a teary-eyed mess.
Last year, this was Kate's and my first race...ever.
Today, she won....and I was there!!!
Sure, I am thrilled that I got my own redemption for last year's poor performance, but there is nothing like seeing the face of someone win who: 
- truly deserved the win
- truly appreciates the win
- is so humble you almost have to convince them to congratulate themselves for the win
I didn't just redeem myself in this race...I found a new love for racing and a new idol.
When I grow up, I want to be just like Kate.
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