Chapter 18

Race day dawned hot and still, without even a breath of wind or a cloud in the sky. It threatened to be a epic ride in high heat and high humidity! All the training staff were constantly after us to stay hydrated, and for the most part I think we did a pretty good job ... Everyone slipped into their game day moods, and I had my iPod and dew rag on, my race glasses on, and was listening to my normal race day music as we boarded the shuttle for the Urban Road Race start area.

Once we arrived at the staging area and got sorted out into our team area, we had a final strategy session with Johan. His advice was simple and direct, “I don’t care what you do, or how you do it, but you have to find it within yourselves to be selfish assholes!”, he said it with a completely straight face, before cracking the first actual smile I had seen from him in weeks... “This is going to be like nothing most of you have ever experienced. It’s going to be a total shit-show, and you’re first reaction is going to be to go back to ‘normal’ team behavior ... Start looking for team leadership, looking for other teams to step up and help reel back any breakaways, you know, ‘normal’ Tour behavior!” He took just a moment to look each of us in the eyes, and once he was satisfied that he had our attention, he went on. “I want you to forget all of that right the fuck now!”

“This isn’t a stage race, this isn’t a Spring classic, this isn’t even really bike racing ... This is going to be a cluster fuck of epic proportions, and I need you to come out on top! No if’s, and’s or cigarette butts about it!” Finding his stride, Johan started pacing a bit, as if getting himself psyched up, and in turn getting us psyched up as well. “If any of you are going to finish in the money on this, and grab the brass ring of Olympic glory, you’re going to have to ride hard, ride fast, get incredibly lucky, and if you don’t fuck anything up ... Well, then perhaps you’ll actually bring home an Olympic medal!” Stopping dead in his tracks, he got that gleam in his eyes that said ‘Fun is about to be had... ‘ and then delivered his final hype for the ride... “Now get the fuck on your bikes and ride ‘um like you stole ‘um!” I was smiling a mile wide as we all slapped each other on the backs and mounted up!

The start area was, at best, controlled chaos! All of us either were or had been professional riders ... Hell, I know about half of the guys on bikes, but had a hard time sorting them out because there were so many team colors that didn’t match up with how I knew them ... I was used to seeing, at most, fifteen or twenty teams instead of the sea of national colors. There were a total of 142 riders entered in this event, and breaking that up into groups of three or four riders per team made for a dizzying array of possibilities there were hard to track in your head ... I had to keep track of my guys, plus fifteen or twenty pre-race favorites, all while trying to stay ‘rubber side down’ on the road, trying to not end up in a crash, have a mechanical, or getting lapped on the Badaling circuit, which would have you disqualified and forced to abandon at that point. “Fuck!”

The start time was creeping ever closer and the peloton was starting to quack (what it sounds like from the outside) as 140 guys all start talking in about 140 different languages to each other and teammates as we all jostle for starting positions within the peloton as we slowly start under what is known as a ‘neutral start’. A neutral start is how a stage race gets under way ... Everyone starts out at a nice leisurely (ha!) pace, as the group gets onto the road and riding along without ‘race’ conditions, meaning all the jockeying and other dicking around that takes place to get tactically into position to actually race! Eventually the lead car will waive a flag and then pull to the side, and release the coiled chaos onto the road to actually, well, race! From that point on, it was on like Donkey Kong!

As we expected there was a lot of yo-yo riding going on, guys riding to the front for short stints and then rolling back, with all the race favorites trying to stay in the front third of the pack in the hopes of being ahead of any crashes or other Tom-foolery on the road ... For the flat portion leading up to the start of the loops, this all held to form, but as teams started to bunch up a bit, the anxiety level hit thermonuclear levels, and we had our first episode of ‘bowling for dollars’ with a crash literally just off of my rear wheel! One moment I was looking for a position, the next I heard the loud bang of bikes, and riders, falling all over the the road! Without a thought, I clicked up two gears and hurled myself and my bike up the road ... As luck would have it, so did the entire bunch of favorites, including my two team mates, who also had ridden tactically and managed to stay upright and on the road ... and the peloton was suddenly split up, with forty or so of us up the road ahead of the fray. Seizing the advantage, the pace suddenly shot up and we were away as we headed into the first of seven loops around Badaling Pass ... I know I’ve said this before, but ... I hate climbing! Yet, for some reason, it just didn’t seem to matter! Maybe all the training I had done over the summer or at camp, or indoors with Joy, had somehow made me a better climber? Maybe it was the whole Olympic adrenaline rush? Or maybe I was so pissed about what had happened that I just rode on pure anger? Whatever it was, I was hanging with the big dogs after three loops!