Fun in the Mud

Marisa Peacock
10.10.05

The Washington Post stated, “Remnants of Tropical Storm Tammy dumped about 7 inches of rain over two days on the Washington region, ruining weekend plans.” This was true, except of course if you love cyclocross, in which case Saturday’s Breast Cancer Awareness Cyclocross Challenge benefited from Mother Nature’s emotional breakdown.

It was a much needed relief from the last year’s rather dry and warm cross season and I was giggling with excitement as I drove (or waded) to Hagerstown. I barreled along Interstate 270 as cars spun out to my left and right, water logged and washed out. I arrived at South Hagerstown High School around eight-thirty, a good two and half hours before my race. For unknown reasons, the Cyclocross Challenge had not scheduled a women’s B race. Therefore I had, by default, chosen to race in the women’s A race. Bikereg.com had indicated five registrants for the race, among them was Heidi Von Teitenberg, currently ranked second in the MABRA series.

When I arrived, I was one of two women present and registered. I prepared my bike, ate and hydrated throughout a flurry of rumors that our field would be combined with the men’s B or the master’s race. The course looked grassy, always a plus in my book—as what I lack in actual technique, I am able to make up for in legs and overall spunk. However, I swallowed cautiously when I contemplated this fateful race, as I was quick to remember that I hadn’t actually logged in any miles on my bike this week—and now I was committed to forty-five minutes of mudding.

Easily distracted as I am, I ran over to my Cary and Ron’s minivan as soon as they arrived and watched as they struggled to open the vehicle’s hatchback. I could tell they weren’t as excited as I was about the rain, but then I reassured them that it could be colder, or worse snowing, and I could see that they felt better about things. Back at the sag wagon, my trusty VW, I anxiously wasted time preparing my wheels for the pit and checking out the competition. More women began to arrive and it was apparent that we’d be racing our own field.

I befriended the guy parked beside when he returned to his car. He had just won the men’s C race and was rather humble about it, which I appreciated. He offered to take my wheels to the pit for me, as I made final preparations to my bike and wardrobe. Either he was just a nice guy or he suspected I was a little flighty, because he offered up polite suggestions: I should wear my rain jacket for the warm-up; I shouldn’t hang around talking, but should actually go warm-up; and that I should remember to have fun! All very helpful!

As I approached the start/finish area, the officials gave us extra time to take in a ride-through of the course. I recognized Heidi, stylishly plastered into her slimming skin suit. I looked down at my well-bruised legs from last week’s race, and thought she and I are very different people. We rode around and I began to have doubts as I became a bit more winded than I prefer on a ride-through. I also became very muddy very quickly, as the three previous races had torn up the course nicely. In our discussions, my fellow competitors and I determined that it resembled organic peanut butter, with the oil separated out on top. Mmm…peanut butter!

Back at the start, the rain had subsided for now, but in true cyclocross fashion, once the officials blew the whistle, the skies opened up on us. There were six of us and the race flyer had indicated that they were paying eight deep. All I had to do was finish and I was guaranteed some loot. Sweet! However, loot or not, I was more intent on not finishing last. My main competitor was a spunky woman from Artemis Racing. She and I had previously shared our concerns about racing in the A’s and made typical race day chatter about how we were going to get spanked! (I rarely take these conversations to heart, as I know that everyone always downplays their fitness level and I should never assume that I have an edge over anyone!)

Off on our first lap, I got myself into a good position behind Melanie Swartz. I got a little stuck in the mud and had to dismount and run around a few corners to get myself along. I was easily ahead of Artemis, but didn’t want to take anything for granted. However, coming down off a downhill into a quick switchback into a quagmire of mud, I missed the turn and ran right into the tape! Because of this one woman got in front of me, but I quickly bounced back (thanks to the tape’s elasticity). Running up in the mud was taxing and I vowed to add underwater running to my race preparation.

Once past the vicious uphill and slippery downhill, the short, but steep climb behind the baseball backstop and the ravine of muddy water, it was flat, muddy and ideal riding. I put my legs to work, got down in my drops and shifted into a harder gear. Lap by lap I rode around, fighting off Artemis chasing me and being coached by her studly boyfriend (who I must admit, gave fairly good advice of which I also took advantage). On the third lap Artemis cut in front and I was now chasing her. I stayed close behind, not wanting to give up anything. I hadn’t felt this sort of raw energy before and I let it lead me around, my wheel on hers, mud flying and spraying. She had me on the first hill and the downhill, but I got her, to my surprise, on the steep climb—due mostly to throwing my bike up the hill. As we approached the corner before the finish, Artemis caught me and I was behind again.

Starting what was to be my fourth time around, I was lapped by Elizabeth Schauer of Fort GPOA and Heidi. I got Artemis by the barriers and she sort of let me go. In years past, the old Marisa would have stayed with and made polite conversation and lost the good fight. However, the newer, more fierce (perhaps it’s the rain) Marisa dug in and passed her and never looked back. As I approached the start/finish area I psyched myself up for a final lap, but to my delight, the officials flipped the lap card to zero and told me I was done. Yippeee! I had finished in fifth place, which more importantly wasn’t last. My first A race and I was top 5 (or bottom 3, depending upon your outlook—which unfortunately was the perspective the race director took and decided to only pay three deep)!