Thursday, June 30, 2011

Every second counts -- sounds familiar, where have I heard that before?

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. It sure feels better when it's the former of the two.

Six laps of the Canadian Masters Time Trial course in the two days prior to the race and you'd think you had it pretty much dialed in. Think again.

With my finish in last year's championship, I was the last man to start in this year's race. If my memory serves me right (I'm on the road so don't have the results at hand), and at my age that's always questionable, the man starting a minute in front of me today finished 11 seconds slower than me last year but that was after I dropped my chain shifting to the small ring on the last hill on the course so 11 seconds isn't really apples to apples. Nonetheless, I had a great carrot in today's race.

It was a 21.5 kilometer loop with five corners, I caught him with 3 dead straight kilometers to go and decided to bury it from there, perhaps a little far out to give it absolutely everything. At the 1k to go sign I remembered an intersection. I took a quick peek and noticed a course marshal flailing his arms, especially the one holding an orange flag. Totally asphyxiated and seeing stars, my reasoning abilities weren't at their best but for some reason the orange flag caught my attention and I sat up. With the reasoning capacity of an intelligent door knob at that point, the best I could figure was he wanted me to turn right.

Now in the six training laps in the prior two days, never once did the course turn right here, it was dead straight to the finish line. Why the hell did he want me to turn right??? As I braked and started my turn, I yelled at him "which way do I go?" With a surprised look, he yelled "go straight, go straight!"

Correcting my turn to get back on course, I destroyed myself to the finish line but was deeply puzzled by what just happened. I started to convince myself that it didn't matter because I still finished in front of my minute man and no way would anyone best his time?

Cooling down I saw a course marshal that looked like the guy with the orange flag, surely he wasn't an identical twin. I asked what happened out there? He apologized and said he was waving at the cars to make sure they didn't enter the course and assumed no rider would be paying attention to a course marshal, especially with 1k to go. Darn, my survival instincts got the better of me. At least my wife and daughters can draw comfort from that notion.

Well, to make a long story longer, here I sit in my Maple Leaf jersey, Canadian Time Trial Champion in the Masters 50 to 59 category, a mere 1.33 seconds faster than the second place finisher. Being the winner, I can forget about the man with the orange flag. Had I lost by 1.33 seconds, it would have haunted me to my dying day. Every second counts.

Before I sign off, I have to give a big shout out to my man John Hunt. A year ago at this time, after years of trying, he finally convinced me to come and see him so he could get me in a better position on the time trial bike. I finally listened and after he made some major changes, I now have two National Time Trial jerseys. Oh yeah, he just had surgery on Monday to repair a hip he broke a few years ago. Thanks John and here's to a speedy recovery!

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