What I Learned From Racing

I'm competitive. I like pushing myself and I love to beat people. I also love the motivation I get from competition and having someone (or many others) evaluate my performance. Oddly enough, this generally isn't the case when I mountain bike. I don't know if it is because I ride with mostly guys who always beat me, so I'm content to be in the back. Or it is because I ride with girls who ride like guys and they also always beat me, so I'm content to be in the back. Whatever the case, I generally have no desire to race my mountain bike. Plus, I find it odd to pay money to ride on a course or trail that isn't generally great because it has to accompany a large number of riders. There are so many better trails out there.

So it is even more odd that I fell prey to the desire to race the Portland Short Track series last Monday. Short track is an odd concept. Riders ride a course on and off the established motocross course for 1/2 an hour. The idea is to get the fastest time and the most laps. Racers are clumped together by division; cat 2 (the level below cat 1 and the pro racers, races with single speeds men and women over 45, and so on). A number of our friends race the short track series, mostly for fun. Jarred insists that racing is a waste of time and would rather put his money elsewhere and I generally have no interest. But curiosity and some competitive need came out last Monday, so off we headed (Jarred scribbled "coach" on a tee shirt and offered to cheer and be my mechanic- Shuksan came along for some pets and dog watching) to PIR (Portland International Raceway- the location for all motor sport racing or anything having to do with speed on dirt or pavement).

After my initial ride on the course, I regretted my decision to come. The ground was all lumpy and riding around in loops seemed kind of boring. But I'd already signed up so I resigned myself stick with my original plan. So I lined my bike up with the rest of the Cat 2 under 35 girls who had little race bikes with 4 inch travel. Black Betty-my bike- is a somewhat beefier bike with 5 inches of travel and a seat post dropper (for riding downhill). She's a bit heavy and not a speed machine on the flats.

Off we went. This is when the education kicked in.
1. Do not start a race lined up last. That's more people to pass if you're competitive nature kicks in. It is harder to pass people, it is much easier to get passed.
2.Knowing how to ride your bike around a corner fast= passing a lot of people. This was my ticket to success. As most girls teetered around the sharp corners, I used my new found downhill speed skills and passed girl after girl and even some old fat guys who were riding in the other categories.
3. When racing some sort of primal instinct sets in. You don't worry about the dirt on your face or who might be cheering for you, you see someone in front of you, you try to pass them. You see a log, you jump it. It's a bit refreshing to think about only one thing at a time.
4. When breathing as hard as you can, a half an hour seems like eternity. When breathing as hard as you can, you also find yourself making primal grunting noises.
5. No matter how slow they are and despite the fact that you're not even competing against them, men do not liked to be passed by girls.
6. When breathing as hard as you can for a half an hour, your body also decides to rid itself of any stored up snot. This leads to a really runny post-race nose. If I intend to race again, this needs to be rectified. It's gross and a pain in the butt.
7. I may be faster than I think, I ended up third overall. Maybe riding with competitive men and man-girls all the time has paid off.