Mudder

(very few pictures this week, I was too busy bitching)

Oh where to start. It was a hell of a weekend. It was the second weekend of doubles, so I wasn't real sure how it was going to go. I went to tell Marc to only sign me up for Sat just in case, but by the time I had asked him about it I was already signed up for both days. Oh well no biggie. As the weekend came closer I became more and more warey. I don't know why. I was riding well, I wasn't burnt out or tired really. But just wasn't feeling this weekend.
I woke up Saturday morning and was in a horrible bitchy mood. I tried everything to shake it off. I went through my normal pre-race routine; had every thing packed, had all the right food items I wanted. All was good except my frame of mind. As we drove up it did not improve. I kept trying but to no avail.
Then we arrive. The venue is completely flat. No hills, no off camber, no run-up's, just flat and long sections before turns. Great, a race of speed, but wait, the majority of the course is saturated with water. On my pre-lap I'm grinding through just trying to keep moving. The ruts just get deeper and deeper. So I already didn't feel like racing, and now I'm racing on a flat sluggishly slow course. By this point I'm so pissy that I think I may be able to get to the point I'm so pissed off that I can find that fighting spirit.
We line up, the gun goes off and I take off. Had a great start, found my pedal on the first take, had the hole shot into the first turn and then into the muck everything started to unravel. Women are passing me left and right. It's so rutted the bike is kinda taking me instead of me taking the bike. I'm slugging through a long section I knew I should have got off to run. This is confirmed as I come around and Tom yells at me, "run it next time, it's faster". I continue on, I'm having to stand way to much to keep going. It sucks. There's always points in a race when you're not happy with how things are going and you can't wait until it is over, but this was the first cross race I actually contemplated dnf'ing.
I kept at it though. I came back around near the pits and I hear Marc say, "Henry is coming up, he's the leader". Beautiful I think, it's almost over. I just need him to lap me and put me out of my misery. That minute or two it took until he finally came around seemed like an eternity. All I kept thinking was "there's no way I'm doing another lap". Finally he passes me and I finish the last bit until I'm done and then it's over. My worst race of the season. Not necessarily results wise. But just overall riding/attitude.
Afterwards I said there was no way I was racing Sunday. I was pre-reg'ed but I didn't care. I couldn't possibly do that to myself again. We went home, got cleaned up, and by the time I went to bed I was contemplating Sunday's race. Sunday morning, I got up and my back was killing me so I decided I made the right choice, but still on the drive up I wasn't so sure I had. That is until we pulled back onto the race property. As soon as I viewed that slopping wet flat ass mess. I knew, I had made the right choice. I had a great day cheering on and supporting everyone else that did decide to put themselves back through it. Great job to anyone who did. I know it sucked.