My coach Antony and I had strategized all about the Masters Track Nationals in Colorado Springs. I have never competed at altitude, so really had no experience to fall back on here. Our plan was “if you cannot be there to acclimate for the altitude all month, then it is better to fly in the day before, race and then get back to sea level before the next race at the end of the week.” ?So, we came in on Monday to race my Individual 500TT on Tuesday morning.

We landed too late Monday to ride the track; it was closed, but went by anyway to get a look at it then decided to just take it easy as we had traveled all day. Interesting how you can fly to New York in the same amount of time it takes to go half that distance. But that is another story.

Next morning’s races were to start at 10AM. Only the officials decided on Sunday to change the schedule and started at 9AM. We arrived at the track ready to warm up at 9AM and racing was already on. ? With that new bit of information, Antony had me jump on my rollers for 30 minutes, do a couple of spin ups, then a couple of 5 pedal stroke starts in the in-field and on to race. ??

I had a pretty good start, not my best start. I came to this event entirely “missile lock” focused on breaking my world record as the air is thin and the track is fast, especially for an outdoor track.
I took off the line as hard as I could. ??

Into turn 1…2…still out of the saddle into 3, and suddenly into turn 4, the “Care Bears” showed up! ? Yes folks, I was suddenly and severely so disoriented from lack of oxygen that I literally could not figure out where I was in my race. My breathing pattern at sea level is short and fast. Welcome to hyperventilation at altitude!

I crossed the line in front of me, pulled up track, and came into the in field still confused as hell. ?
?Antony exclaimed “what the %##@ happened”? I seriously did not know. ? So, out went the possibly of setting a new record, the National title and my brain for the entire rest of the day. ??

In scrubbing off some speed and in my mind fog, I had somehow come around the last half lap for a bronze medal. Completely unexpected! The Care Bears and I totally thought I was beyond last place without a doubt. Done. End of story. Better luck next time. And when Antony had asked the officials my time, they incorrectly told him I was 5-6 seconds down, so with a plane to catch, we packed up and left, rendering me absent for the awards ceremony.?Nice.

I flew back to LA and rebooked my ticket to come back earlier for the team sprint so I could hopefully get some acclimation this time as the previous plan did not work so much.

By this time I was very worried about the team sprint. I mean, who wants to be six inches off the wheel of an unconscious lead out! I went to first aid and had a long talk with one of the guys there about my “situation”. He was so cool. Having worked several Pro races, he advised me to slow my breathing and make them deeper but not enough to throw my sprint pattern off of the norm. Good advice.

My team partner, Louise and I had a decent start. I was ½ second slower off the line-uh, not so decent.

We were good, but not good enough that day. We took the silver; the gold winning team was scorching fast. Kudos to them, job well done.

Said and done, in all my preparation for this race, I honestly did not see this one coming. I thought maybe worst-case racing; I would be short of breath at altitude, but not semi unconscious. Goes to show you can set all the plans you want, do all the “what ifs”, get mind and body into peak form, but it all has to come together for one moment in time. You get one chance, that’s it.

Nationals seem to be my Holy Grail. Next year I will race again.

Not gonna quit until I win this flipp’n illusive jersey.

Turbo Chicken- sans synapse.?