Thursday, June 16th 2011 - Shorewood Criterium.
It's 5pm. The streets are packed and the tannoy proclaims that the pro women's race is about to get underway. I'm standing on the front row next to America's elite and I'm absolutely terrified. I really don't belong here. I'm Kate Evans from Wolverhampton, Near Birmingham, 3 hours from London, UK, who has only just started her first proper race season, and I am being introduced as a professional. At some point in the next 60 minutes, in front of far too many people, my mask is going to fall and I'm going to be revealed as the fraudster that I am...
On reflection, it took a lot longer from my facade to slip. In fact for the first 40 minutes, I totally fitted in. Sat behind my captain - Kori Seehafer - I followed wheels, cornered fantastically, and lived up to my billing. However, at some point, between 10 laps to go and 8 laps to go, the masked slipped. My head lolled from side to side and my legs turned to jelly. I tried to relax and stay calm, but it was in vain. I was out of the back door with 4 laps to go!
I was gutted. I was less than 6 minutes from holding my own in a professional women's field. 6 minutes! What Kori swiftly concluded from my performance was a) I can race with professionals. But b) when I'm tired my tactical awareness goes out of the window. Thus my being dropped was entirely my own fault as I didn't engage those brain cells and move up the field. Tomorrow I would rectify that mistake.
Friday, June 17th 2011 - Theinsville Criterium
We had one team aim for the day - get to the front, see the front and sit in the top 10 for as long as possible. I had my own aim - finish with the group. I again started on the front line, got and brilliant start and even found myself 50m off the front for the whole first lap. I had to suppress the urge to giggle when the tannoy man announced that rider number 17, Kate Evans from the UK, was making an attack off the front. Such a silly man. Me attack? Nope. I'd just pushed a little too hard in my eagerness to get up there.
The team aim, for my part, was a roaring success.
Safely caught by the main field, I settled quickly into the top 10 and it was wonderful. Much of it was single file stuff but being so high up the field meant that there was no concertina effect and I went round much of the first 30 minutes with not a care in the world. I was mixing it with the big girls and it was fun.
Again this changed with 20 minutes to go. I was tired and my blood sugars were dropping. Quickly. Therefore, I found myself hovering at the back of the field until we hit the 5 laps to go mark. At this point my monitor was alarming like mad telling me that I was low. I didn't care. I was finishing this race even if it killed me and from the sounds of it I was getting pretty close. Fortunately Kori had just made an effort and was herself falling through the bunch. As I drew along side her, she grabbed my saddle and flung me back into the pack. After the race she said she had heard my alarm and new instinctively what it was and that regardless I was finishing the race.
In order to repay Kori, I launched myself from the back of the pack along the home straight and safely deposited her back in the top 5. The last few laps were a blur but I hung in there and finished my first professional race in a respectable 37th. (It could have been higher but I was pretty close to passing out so decided not to contest the sprint)
Kori got 10th. Job well done.
Day 1: 47th @ 1 lap
Day 2: 37th @ 6 seconds.
Saturday, June 18th 2011 - Grafton GP
Hopes were low. There was a hill. Hill + Kate = epic fail. But, what I didn't count on was my new found ability to suffer like an absolute dog. I sucked big time for much of the race. My legs were dead. Painfully so and I dangle off the back of the bunch for more times than I cared to acknowledge.
Fortunately with 5 laps to go Kori was also feeling the same and had some how found herself near the back with me. Making the most of this I jumped on her wheel as she launched herself to the front. I now found myself third wheel in the race!
The style of racing at the front end was dramatically different to that at the back and within a lap I found myself in a comfortable position and genuinely believing that I could place well. Evidently, the cycling God's were frowning on me for thinking too far ahead of myself as on the penultimate lap, for no reason whatsoever, the girl in front of me fell off her bike.
My somersault was epic. I hit said girl square in the back, flew over my handle bars, saw the sky, and back slammed into the floor.
I'm not ashamed to admit it but I cried. Not because it hurt but because I was so so close to having a fantastic finish to a race that I had absolutely given my heart and soul too. Whereas before I'd have cracked long before the end of the race, I hung in and dug deep but I got nothing. Zip, nadda, nowt.
But I shall put this into a different perspective: my team mate Becca had to pull out because she had a dangerously low blood sugar. She was gutted for me because I was doing so well and then crashed. But I was even more upset for her because everyone who started that race could have crashed but only three of us could have dropped out because of a low blood sugar. So yes, my crash sucked, but at least, for once, my excuse for not finishing a race was one that everyone could have had.
