Me, in the front, sort of.

That’s me, right in the front of it all.  Okay, actually, it’s me long after being dropped off the back.  The guy behind me is the only other person in sight.

It’s late summer and I’m encouraged to ride the Nebraska State Championship race.  It would be my first race, of any sort.  I’m not a racer I say.  I have other plans I say I actually did have other plans.  Okay, fine, if Tom’s gonna do it then I’m gonna do it!

There I am at race day, all excited.  I’ve ridden a lap a few days before, warmed up, been choosy about what I ate, packed some food and liquid, removed everything from my bike that I wouldn’t die without.  I’m ready.  Okay, that’s a lie, I had to borrow a helmet because I forgot that.

So we take off.  For a paced start it seems awfully fast, but I’m okay.  The field is large, and jittery, and I’m near the back.  There are a few close calls as people slam their brakes in front of me, but nobody crashes.  We turn out onto the loop, the car pulls off, and we take off up the hill.

It’s a long way up that hill.  The group crests it before I do.  The SAG vehicle crests it before I do.  Then I crest it, dig for everything I got and sprint around the SAG vehicle and back onto the group.  Another smaller hill.  The group crests it before I do, they turn the corner and they’re gone.

Okay, so there goes the plan of holding onto the field for dear life.  A while later another rider catches me, we end up sprinting for the finish at the end.

I had a good time, I say to myself, maybe I’ll do more of this next year.  My goal:  Keep up.