racing all week is hard work; especially if you work all week AND work on a race that lasts all week. despite feeling like i was fried on Tuesday -- only to go on to finishing top-10, Wednesday i felt worse. i rode 45 miles before i even got to the race. yet, i felt like it was gonna be the night -- no doubt encouraged by the previous night's effort. bizarro world? probably.
i toed the actual start line for the first time and was the first one through turn 1. i felt ok and kept a look out for Stan. a lap or 2 later he made a quick break and i was able to follow and encourage him to take my wheel. we made it through the wind on the NE side of the course and took turn 4 in good shape, i thought.
through the first left this time Stan hammered it around the outside. i went inside of the whole pack to try to grab his wheel again. i made a quick look behind me and saw Ed White and one other half acre jersey. i got goosebumps and thought to myself that THIS WAS GONNA BE EPIC!!!
then i took a hero pull through the long start/finish strait. then i realized that i was felling really poor. then i realized that my wheel was out of true and rubbing my brakes. DNF for me but worth it for that fleeting moment of potential glory.