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Jeff Whittingham
This being my last mountain bike race of the season, I had tried to do everything right leading-up to the race. Good training sessions, good food, lots of rest...
After warming-up, stretching and making final repairs and tuning on my bike, I waited in the start/finish area with Jenn and our dog. I was in the back, talking to Jenn when the gun went off and all the Sport riders took off. I hadn't been paying attention apparently and quickly realized I was now in last place. However, I had been training way too hard for this race to be over before it even started. I hammered-down and began passing riders on the 1/2 mile open section by going off-trail and into the deep grass, bouncing and bobbing against hidden rocks and holes, standing in the seat, giving it 110%. Into the singletrack I slammed and after 2 intense miles was back in the top 10, but weary from the early sprint. I settled into a rhythm and passed the next 8 riders over an equal number of miles. 10miles into the 18 mile race, I was in 3rd place, right behind the 2nd place rider and 2mins back from the leader. After working with the 2nd place rider for a couple miles, he began to tire and I finally moved into second.
With about 4 miles to go, I still had not caught the first rider and decided to make one last sprint for him. After a 4-5 minute burst of speed, my legs began to ache and feel like mashed potatoes. I still could not see the leader and my legs were running out of strength - it was now a battle of will to finish the last 2 miles strong. A few falls, mild curses and haggard breaths later, I crossed the finish line in 2 hours, 5 minutes. There was no sign of a rider in front of me and I asked the timers if I had been first across. They checked to make sure I had done all 3 laps and congratulated me on the win. Apparently, the gentleman I had been chasing had lost a contact lens. I would rather have passed him on the bike, but I'll take my first win!
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