It started out looking like a perfect day for me. It was cold and rainy as we began to race. For some reason, I love riding in the rain. I feel like I have an advantage over everyone else, because I love to suffer. This was certainly a great day for suffering. So I was very excited to say the least.

As we began the first lap, one of my teammates had a scary almost crash. His front wheel stated to wobble back and forth at 22 MPH. I was just staring at him waiting for him to go down. But he stayed up! A testament to his bike handling skills. I stared to long, I had to really work hard to get back to the pack. Guess I learned something...

Later in the first lap another guy actually went down. I think he hit a pothole and lost control. It was a worrisome start to the race. After that everyone kind of settled down. The pace was pretty slow for the first lap again. I felt OK. Legs were a little cold, I thought I felt some cramps coming on, so I stretched a little on the bike. As the race went on I felt much better. I think I still need to work on my warm up routine.

Fast forward to the end of the second lap, I am near the front of the pack. One of my racing buddies, shoots up the inside of the pack to the front. We had talked about an attack near the end of the second lap, so I thought it was time. I speed up a little and get next to him and give him my "Get on my wheel" look. I attack with everything I have. I expect him to be on my wheel. He is not. I am off the front again...

I quickly realize I am all alone. I figure I can hurt some of the guys in the back by making the pack chase me down. So I get into a nice rhythm and stay away from the pack for about half a lap. They catch me and I slip to the back to try to recover.

It takes me a couple of minutes to recover, which I was actually surprised and happy about. I felt really great going into the last couple of climbs. We get to the top of the second to last climb and I feel something weird in my rear wheel...I look down...I have a flat...

I yell out some explitives. Pull over to the side of the road, raise my hand as the support car pulls up behind me. he starts to change my wheel. Keeps apologizing for being so slow. I tell him not to worry about it because basically the race is over for me. Less then 2 miles to go...no way I am going to catch the pack.

So I leisurely spin back in to the finish line. A couple of stragglers pass me along the way. One of them is really hammering. The other catches me, we chat for a minute. He speeds up. I was thinking, how sad they were sprinting for last place...

Come to find out...We had torn the field apart with the pace on the last lap. I still finished 21st even with the flat. If I would have kept working hard I would have been in the top 20...another lesson learned!