If This Post Sucks, It’s Because I Don’t Like Writing About Winning (IE, I Don’t Get Much Practice)

The best way to start this post is with a few quotes from some legendary bike racers, spoken mere minutes after the finish of the 2011 NCNCA Criterium Championships.

“I have to say, Rand, I don’t like your hairstyles, but I like the way you race. Congratulations on the win.”
- Eric Wohlberg

“Well, since there are no podium girls…would you like me to give you kisses instead?”
- Ivan Dominguez

They say a picture is worth a thousand words so — in spite of my inexorable desire to write at length — I’ll shut up for a brief moment and let the imagery speak for itself.

(Photo Credit: Etienne Fontan)

The smile itself speaks volumes. It’s the smile of a guy making his dream a reality. It’s also the smile of a man thankful to everyone who supported him in doing so.

And now, for the thousands of words. I can’t help myself.

Last Sunday afternoon, I overcame an entire season of near-misses, implosions, botchings, and f*&kups and finally won a race that people care about: the 2011 Northern California/Nevada Criterium Championships.

How did we get here? Last time I posted, I was busy assuring my readers that I would blow my Folsom Cyclebration Omnium lead in the final event; now, I’m posting a photograph of me — arms aloft and a smile nearly as wide as my gap to the field — winning a somewhat important bike race, at least by my standards. Two days after the fact, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it. Let’s walk through the past two weeks together and try to figure out how this could happen, shall we?

I’ll start by saying that I did not botch the Folsom Cyclebration as most of us anticipated. In fact, I played the final day’s circuit race conservatively and intelligently — quite out of character for me — and saved my legs for a bunch sprint. Ultimately, my 6th place finish was enough to secure the Omnium and with it a sizable cash prize.

Now, I’ve heard an urban legend that once you eat human flesh, you become hopelessly addicted; naturally, I’m going to liken bike racing to cannibalism and say that my small taste of a truly lucrative victory in Folsom — even if only a cumulative one — changed the way I approached the Criterium Championship event and ultimately led to my upset victory.

The 2011 NCNCA Championship Criterium was held in downtown Oakland on one of the more demanding courses we face each year. This course is punctuated by a short climb on the front straightaway and a tight chicane on the back side, all wrapped in pavement so rough it makes the surface of the moon look smoother than Levi Leipheimer’s head.

For reasons unknown to everyone in attendance, the field was inordinately strong: Rahsaan Bahati (Pista Palace), Ivan Dominguez (“Retired,” ex-Toyota United, ex-Fuji Servetto, ex-Rock Racing), Andy Jacques-Maynes (Bissell), Roman Kilun (Kenda), Chuck Hutcheson (McGuire) and Kirk Carlsen (Garmin – Cervelo) were notable additions to the usual cadre of NorCal powerhouses.

In order to prepare myself to engage this “Ocean’s Eleven” cast of characters, I elected to undertake one of those fabled “race warmups.” Hence, I decided to enter the W/1/2/3 race*.

(Photo Credit: Alden Tanaka)

That mullet-vector is a good indication of how fast our local W/1/2/3 racers are, by the way. I pity the fool who has to race against these ladies, having now done so myself. Shortly after I was dropped from the race, Vanessa Drigo (Vanderkitten) sprinted for the W/1/2/3 Championship title — Congratulations, Vanessa!

As it turns out, it was a good thing that I warmed up during the women’s race, because the P/1/2 event started fast — according to a mid-race assessment by Rainer Schaefer (Mikes Bikes), “holy s*&t, this is fast as f*&k!”  — and it stayed that way for the entirety. It’s been said that the 2011 race was averaging three miles per hour faster than usual on the uphill finish-line straight, and it certainly felt that way.

Now, if there’s one truism in bike racing, it’s that high speeds and enormous potholes are bad news for high-end racing wheels. Sure enough, over the course of the race, I managed to crack both of my carbon wheels on some gargantuan holes in the Oakland pavement. Thankfully, Josh Geizsler (mechanic for Williams Cycling) was there for some wheel support.

(Photo Credit: Yukie Nakamura)

Thanks Josh! Usually you have to pay double for that kind of “support.”

Throughout the race, the announcer had been updating us about the status of a late-race crowd prime, which was to be contested with six laps remaining. By the time I re-entered the race from my second mechanical, at 11 laps to go, the field had dwindled to about 25 racers while the crowd prime had grown inversely to $306.

Like the metaphorical cannibal, I wanted that money; I was addicted. I wanted it badly enough to make some rather aggressive attacks and some rather contorted facial expressions:

(Photo Credit: Dale Tapley)

It was with that look on my face that I attacked at 8 laps to go. It was also with that same look that I dispatched with my breakaway companions at 6 1/2 laps remaining to claim the large sum of money alone. Bike racing cannibalism, you see? I was racing my bike for the money, riding off the front solo with six laps remaining in one of the most important criteriums of the year. It was not tactically brilliant, it was a ballsy maneuver intended to net me a large sum of money.

And then, the moment I crossed the line to take this intermediate prize…well, that was the crux of the race. That very moment was described so aptly by spectator Rome Imari Mubarak that I’ll transcribe his words directly.

“after you went for the prime…I saw that twitch and the one look back at the field pedaling in the distance..when you looked forward again, crunching down into your tiger-paw hidden dragon TT pose, I knew you were all in and going for it! ’99 southdon’t look back’ attitude!!! BigUp Rand! Major Motion Cycling thanks you for putting on a great performance!!”

He’s absolutely right. I saw that the field was hesitating, that I had a several second gap still, and I knew that I really wanted to win the championship title — more than I had wanted that $306 just a few seconds before — even if it meant I had to ride the next six laps alone with a star-studded field in hot pursuit. 95% of the time, this is the entirely wrong way to win a bike race, and I’ve got the 2nd Place race resume to prove it. However, the stars aligned: my legs were primed, the heckling was sublime, and somewhere inside, I knew it was time to really go for it. Look at the perverse, shit-eating grin on my face as I fully commit to an ill-advised attempt at a solo win from WAY TOO FAR OUT:

(Photo Credit: Etienne Fontan)

Why am I smiling? It’s possible I have several screws loose. It’s also possible that I’m smiling because everything was perfect in that moment: my legs felt fast in spite of the pain, I love a good late-race breakaway, I love a cheering crowd, and I love a technical race course. I had nothing left to lose — I already made $306 — and I had everything to gain. It was perfect, and I couldn’t contain my elation.

This is where I have to break away from my usual nonchalant, irreverent character and thank absolutely everyone who has ever supported me in a bike race: family, friends, teammates, sponsors, blog readers, photographers, and random spectators. Was I driven to win by my competitive nature? Of course…that’s why we all line up each weekend. However, more than that, I was driven to win because of the incredible support from the crowd, both those present and those who support me from afar.

(Photo Credit: Dale Tapley)

Each lap, the cheers grew louder and my resolve not to let everyone down grew stronger. I believed I could stay away, but it was a calculated, guarded hope tainted by the knowledge of how much I was hurting and by my history of faltering in the critical portions of races this year.

I didn’t falter this time.

My legs held out, the field hesitated**, and I crossed the finish line with plenty of room for my admittedly giddy victory salute. I was greeted shortly thereafter by Velopromo Rick, a co-promoter of countless races, a fixture in the NorCal scene and one of my favorite people in the world.

That photograph is an exemplar of how grateful I am for all of you who enjoy watching me race, enjoy reading the blog, and who heckle the living shit out of me as a consequence. Thank you all for a great 2011 road season!

Already, a friend of mine has taken it upon himself to design my “Big Pink” themed Championship Jersey.

(Designed by Lee Slone)

Now that’s gonna look good in all the local races next season.

And now, with ‘cross season gearing up, I implore you all to sit down with a beer or three and write out some searing, incisive, witty things to scream at me (and my fellow racers) in the upcoming cyclocross events.

See you soon!

*This isn’t technically illegal, as I only rode with the W/1/2/3s during their neutral laps from a harrowing crash involving Mary Maroon (Webcor). Get better soon, Mary!

**I heard that race favorite Bahati crashed hard in the final lap, and I’m hoping that he’s alright. Here’s to a speedy recovery!