amy alison dombroski

2009 Blogs

A 40 minute race and you think, ahh no worries, a quickie, eh? Somehow it used to be that easy. I'd wake up a few hours before the race, eat a cinnamon roll or a bagel with cream cheese, and ride to the start in Boulder. Without coffee!! But then coffee entered my life. Then traveling to races. And to travel I needed coffee. To drink coffee I needed more time in the morning. To travel to races, it usually ends up that there aren't beautiful bike paths leading from the front door to start line, so then you need to drive to the race. And you don't want to sit in your chamois all that driving time, so you leave 15 minutes earlier to allow changing time. But then you start flying to races, and while you can pack your bike in a bag and fly with it for an ass-chapping $175, you can't fly with your car which you may need for transportation. And no, you can't rely on unpacking your bike and riding to the hotel from the aeroport, because now you have two bikes and a menagerie of wheels, on top of all those fancy clothes to keep you warm in Portland's puddles and Southampton's snow. Hey, one more thing, I'm only 22 and I can't rent a car!

If I get to that point I'm doing pretty well I guess. Where do the bikes come from? What comprises a bike...the frame, the wheels, the tires, the pedals, the saddles, the cockpit, the chains, the brakes...? How are the tubular tires attached to the wheels? Where's the money tree for flights? You got that...but you're still naked! What about your clothes and shoes and helmet and glasses? In short, I guess what I'm trying to say is that when the music gets intense for the call-ups of those precious UCI points, there was a whole lot behind the scenes.

Months ago, when I was still putting in mile upon mile on the steaming pavement under the relentless Colorado sun, I knew cyclocross would be dawning it's fall leaves before I knew my off-season had even begun. I rediscovered my New England roots with the Richard Sachs cyclocross team. Since receiving Richie's ATMO blessing, there have been steady streams of emails bouncing between this 6-man (well 5-man and one-amy) squad. It is the intricate snowflakes that form a white carpet in the backcountry, but it is also these snowflakes which can cause life ending avalanches. It is all in the details...it is the intricasies of a cyclocross season's planning that can lead to victory salutes and hard-earned jerseys, or stressful and drawn-out broken goals.

Somehow I find myself five days before CrossVegas, which could be considered the most prized race in the US. I don't know if there will be one thousand spectators or one million, I just know that as soon as the sun goes down in the desert, all I will see is the course in front of me, or someone else's tire, or the infinite abyss into which I am riding. All I will hear is the clammoring of cowbells and the insane screaming of drunken spectators.

When the gun goes off, all the details - the planning, the building, the shipping, the travel, the stress, the training - it all goes out the window. I can't say "Excuse me Georgia, Richard spent more time measuring the custom steel tubing on my bike to ensure a perfect fit, so I should go faster." And I don't think it would be proper to tap Katie on the shoulder to ask her how much training she did the week prior and then say "Ok, well I put in one more hour two weeks ago and one less hour this week, so I should be fresh and faster." No, it is the details that get you to the start line with enough time to take a breath and a sip of water. The details are the insurance for a stress and mechanical free season, for good legs (ha, imagine that) and hopefully success, for fun, and for that extra 15 minutes in the morning to enjoy your cup of coffee.

Copyright © 2012 Amy Dombroski. All Rights Reserved.