Le Vent Méchant

That was the hardest thing that I've ever done.
Without much to show for it.
I actually raced well (maybe even smart!?) and climbed like a bat out of hell. But after every attack and hill I was surprised and dismayed to see the pack completely intact. I totally underestimated my competition. They've been preparing for this race. Note to self: I definitely could've done with a bit of preparation. Maybe next time.
I finally died a thousand deaths on the last BRUTAL hill with a BRUTAL headwind. I railed the descent and finished out only a minute and a half behind the leaders. That would be stellar...except that seventeen girls finished in front of me. How!? This course was supposed to be god-awful selective. All the other fields have been splintered (Carla pulled off another win, BTW).
But, positives: this was the first road race ever where I was never bored AND I didn't give up or give in to apathy. I left it all out there, up on the wind-raped ridges*.
Now I'm waiting for the boys' race to start in 45 minutes. The Manimal is making little grumbly noises and pacing around and the Saint is acting calm. Apparently they didn't bring enough water bottles. Sillyheads.

*Sorry, that's a weird phrase, but the ridges are not windswept. They are molested, exploited, and left crying in the corner by the wind.
Or maybe that's just me.