Superweek: Day six | Whitefish Bay

It felt a little like the last day of summer camp after racing with everyone for the last week. Familiar faces chatted pre-race, promised to exchange contact information and laughed about how our nerves had been gone for a few days. My heart rate at the start line had gone from 125 (first race) to 77 (today).

I did get to do my first "call up", where they announced the overall series leaders and we got to roll up to the line first (and could pick the best spots). That was kind of cool. Then it was down to business and we started off at a good pace. I really didn't know what to expect from everyone; there was brief conversation about attempting a break halfway through, so I tried not to do too much work before midrace. Not too much happened until a girl took a flyer and NO ONE chased. Before long she had a 20 second gap and I knew I didn't want to get second place to her for lack of effort. Rae, my new friend from California, started to rally some troops and we worked to bring it back. I had done more work than I wanted, but didn't want to go out today not having worked.

After that, there were a few attacks, I bridged to one, but quickly conceded, since the trailing pack was close on. I don't think anyone wanted much to get away today. Deep breath. OK, back in and recover for the finish. Some spark was missing in me today, I guess. With two to go, I found my wheel again (same Flatlandia rider that had now won 4 of the 5 races). And then Amanda Miller (Atlas) came along and I thought that was OK, too. Sitting third on bell lap the pace was not nearly high enough to stave off a hungry pack on the LAST day. I knew there was an attack waiting to happen and watched for it. It came on the long back stretch and I was quick to latch on. As soon as Flatlandia came over and got on, it stalled the pace leveled and again, all the chasers in the back who were still gunning surged up and going into the third turn we were A LOT more bunched up than I wanted to be. On the quick stretch before the last turn I completely lost my head in the surge that was happening. I also lost about 12 positions. Yikes! I panicked and made up a bit of ground before I hit the turn (in which I had intended to be 2nd or 3rd wheel). That was my race. I lost it in some random 100 meters a quarter mile from the finish. I lost it in a blur of panic. My wheels rode off to first and second place. I managed to mitigate the damage by passing a few people in the 300 meters I had left. I managed to hang on to 8th.

That was not the way I wanted to finish up but in the end, it didn't hurt my overall standing and I still finished 2nd in the Omnium. Still, I get to think the whole 6 hour drive home about how I should have jumped earlier. How many times have I said that this week? It's just that I would rather have gotten 8th place by making it a guts race and taking my chances. I would rather have made 7 people pass me rather than me being a big chicken.

What a week.