I, like everyone else on the planet, am a collection of characteristics and traits—some of which are good and some of which are bad. I find it easier to be able to list my bad traits because they are the ones that those around me point out. For example, I know that I am a stubborn and impatient person because many people have told me exactly that in no uncertain terms. I have literally been told, “You are so stubborn.” time and time again, and I generally ignore people when they say this because I’ll be damned if I’m going to change my ways for those who criticize me.

I have taken you on this wordy aside because I have gone against my naturally obstinate ways and have changed my mind. This happened with some prodding from my life coach Mihael who still generously provides blunt and sometimes offensive advice without requiring payment or even participation in his life coaching program. On the drive out to FBF, Mihael gently suggested that maybe it would be a good idea to participate in the 3/4ths race instead of the 1/2/3 race because teammate Aaron was sitting in second place overall after finishing second in the first race of the season. At first I dismissed him, because he really does talk about a lot of things, but then I eventually relented because it would be very helpful to Aaron if I raced with him, and it would make Mihael stop talking about how much I should be helping Aaron.

We were delayed by traffic due to the fact that Brooklyn has been under construction since 1898, so I would need to hustle to get my new number sorted and get a warm up. This warming up did not occur because there was a long line for registration, but this wasn’t a big deal, as I’ve done a great many races with only a trip to the bathroom and a scratch of my butt as preparation.

There was a slightly strong wind blowing, but it was not a “winning wind”, so to speak, as it was a tailwind on the finishing straight. The crosswind section would be between turns three and four, and that would probably not be enough to slice the pack apart. This of course, does not mean you do not try, because bike racing. We toed the line and there were three of us, myself, Aaron and teammate Cody. Our plan was to stay close to one another and aid Aaron in any way possible. I would go into further details about how I planed to go about this, but we’re trying to win a yellow jersey here, so screw that.

The race began and we did things. Things that we hoped would make Aaron successful. We did these things for all of the laps of the race. Aaron tried to get away by himself late in the race, but was caught at the bell for the final lap. As we caught him, I told him that it would be a good idea if he sprinted, because yellow jersey. He agreed and we began creeping our way to the finish. Our plan was to do something that I’m still not going to tell you about (I realize that it may be frustrating to not hear our exact plans, but what kind of stubborn jerk would I be if I shared our plans?), this plan was waylaid at turn three by a crash near the front of the race. The mishap happened just to my left. It happened very quickly, and I am unsure of its cause. I only know that it required my to take evasive action. For a moment, I was sure that I would be ensnared in the carnage, but I missed the calamity by inches.

I made it through to the other side unscathed and quite surprised that I survived. I then did what any bike racer would do after looking back and seeing the race clustered into a clog of bikes and bodies—I accelerated. As we hit the penultimate straight, I saw that Aaron had made it through also (after a detour through the grass), the race has been winnowed down to about ten racers. I moved up to third wheel going into the final turn—to monitor the front and hold a place for Aaron. An acceleration moved up on the left side and the two racers in front of me did the cat four-est thing ever and stared at the jump as if they were politely watching a one-woman play about how not to participate in a sprint. I used words that are adjectives for reproduction and left those audience members behind. There was a group of about five riders that had jumped, and I knew Aaron was behind me. I maintained position in the gap between the five riders and Aaron so he could come around me—and that’s what he did, moving up to take third place while I shrieked at him to ride his bike fast. As we got closer to the line, I realized I was still in contention for money, so I jumped again to take the last cash paying place, because in addition to being stubborn, I am also greedy. Aaron’s third place finish was enough to get him the yellow jersey, and ensure that I will stubbornly participate in the 3/4ths race again next week.