I did not win.
I thought I would. I knew I would. I would have even bet money on myself. Dag nabbit I would have lost a lot of money!
The race: 700 meters up a very, very steep hill. Nice and simple. Just go as hard as you possibly can for a little under two minutes.
Winger and I were the only two HB’ers present. Neither of us went fast enough to make the top five. I was pretty depressed. I know I shouldn’t have come into this race with huge expectations, seeing as I broke my collarbone five weeks ago. But that excuse did NOT even register in my mind over the last few weeks while I dreamed about this race over and over again while absolutely killing myself doing daily double interval sessions. And I refuse to use that as an excuse right now, even though mentioning it is basically using it as an excuse…so forget I even mentioned it.
I’ve been thinking of this race, this prologue more specifically, ever since my teammate Spencer told me about it last fall. If you’re a regular follower of my blog, you know how much I like 1 minute efforts and steep, short climbs. You’ve heard me brag about my 1 minute power numbers and how I consider myself to be practically unbeatable in this discipline, save for a head to head battle with Sir Chris Hoy (kilo world record holder). And if you didn’t know this about me, now you do. And you also know how wrong I am. All my bragging about my strength over one minute has been futile. Because today I SUCKED!!! What the hell?!! No, this situation calls for some foul language, god damn it. What the FUCK!!!! is more like it.
You may be thinking, “Now hold on Kennettron, 1 minute is not quite the same as two. And don’t you weigh like 230 kilograms? You really expect to win against Will Routley?” And to that I’d say, “Pint off. 1 minute is basically the same as two and yes I did expect to win against Will Routley!”
After the massacre on my body was over I felt like I was in a bad dream. No way could I not make the finals in an event like this!! You know that feeling you get when you KNOW you’re going to win a race or have a super good day? I had that feeling about today. I didn’t necessarily have that feeling today, but I had it about today for the last six months. Maybe that was the problem. Note to self: preconceived concepts don’t necessarily hold true. Amazing.
I blew the F up about 1 minute into the prologue and completely died with roughly 50 seconds to go, meaning I was hurting for quite a long time. There is no possible way I could have tried any harder. Not even .0001% harder. A lack of effort was not the reason I did so poorly. I’d like to blame it on lack of fitness, which is usually my excuse for not winning and I feel like it’s a pretty dang good excuse too.
Let’s back up a bit. First of all, you should know some facts about the race. So here’s the way the race went down:
You line up next to one other guy at the base of the hill. The two of you go for time, trying to get under 1:50. The top 5 guys get to go again when everyone is done and the podium is decided on placing. So technically you could set the fastest time of the day and only place fifth if you did poorly in the final. Being extremely cocky today, this was my main concern. ha.
I think my time was 1:52. The slowest qualifying time for finals was 1:48 I believe. I could be wrong though, I don’t know the real results yet. In fact I don’t even know who won, but I think Will did.
Anywho, I went against a fast guy from Red Truck (Cody) and he beat me. He started out quicker than me for the first hundred or two hundred meters, I caught and passed him, I blew up, he passed me, he blew up, I started gaining on him, we crossed the finish line and the race was over. I don’t know results yet but I think he got me by about 4 seconds, which is pretty substantial for this short of a race. Hats off to him. Or “rats” off to him if you’re a fan of Tom Goes to the Mayor, which you should be because that show is stupid funny.
For the next ten minutes or so I was in a stuper. Massive headache, weak arms, weaker legs, blurred vision, holding back vomit, completely dazed and confused. I seriously felt like I’d eaten a pot brownie, not that I’d know what that would be like. Seriously.
I spent the next 45 minutes anxiously awaiting the results so I could know whether or not I’d get to go again. I was in fifth place for a long time, just on the edge of making it into the finals. Then at last they finally updated the results and I think I got bumped down to 50th or something. Haha maybe not that bad. I don’t know yet. It was raining by then, I got really depressed, I was in awe at the lack of legs I had today. This morning I went on a ride and felt like absolute pint. Just awful. Same as yesterday’s ride. But after consuming roughly 625 mg of caffeine before warming up this evening, I was feeling pretty alright (that’s an exaggeration. I feel like I need to start pointing out when I’m being sarcastic on my blog after I read a study about how most conservatives don’t realize Stephen Colbert is not actually a hard core republican). Sarcasm is the least understood form of comedy. Seriously. Anyways, my victory was not to be. I usually don’t get this worked up about doing crappy, but this race was different for some reason. It was a race that I knew I could do well in–if the sensations were good. I swear I’m not just talking myself up!! Honest! Don’t beleive me, eh? Well screw you, you pinting son of a pint. I’ll show you all next year!!
All in all, I’m happy I’m able to race my bike so soon, happy that it’s summer, happy that I get to spend time with my good friend and teammate Chris Wingfield (haha JK), and even happier that I didn’t re-break my collarbone as I strained every muscle in my body to the absolute max to get up that damn hill today.
Hammer Nutrition’s Pre Race formula. Lots of caffeine and the phytonutrient quercetin–to take you up a level like drinking the goldenly delicious liquid of Lance Armstrong’s urine (FRS).
Cody and I at the start line. Each getting a nice pre-race ass massage from the two friendly people behind us. My heart rate was already at 150 I think. And my entire body was shaking. I was jacked and ready to go…mentally. Obviously not physically. Duh.
*updated: I got 11th. Will Routley won.
KENNETT PETERSON 