Today’s stage started, of all places, on a boat. Not just
any boat, though…it was an aircraft carrier. For sign-in, we climbed a few
flights of stairs to get onto the lift that gets the planes on the deck and
were greeted by a variety of fighter planes and helicopters. Both the racers
and the spectators were taking lots of pictures.
After signing in, we saw that they were letting the racers
climb into the cockpit of a fighter jet. Unfortunately, standing in line for
the jet is all I did, because after 5 minutes of getting punked by more
important people (who’s this Quintana guy anyway?), it was time to actually get
ready for the bike race and stop being tourists.
The stage started in the cargo bay of the carrier, where we
rolled across the ramp back to firmer ground for some actual racing. A trio of
choppers and a duo of jets were flitting around the sky during the neutral
section, keeping us all entertained as we were paraded through the town.
The race itself was largely uninteresting, and can be summed
up with 3 words: it was hot. Not quite like Tour of California, but pretty dang
close. I know this because ice socks were helpful, not crucial. And so, the
kilometers ticked by just a bit faster than our bottle count.
Orica controlled the front almost the whole day over the undulating climbs, but we
would not contribute. We would give it a try with John at the finish, but the
2k finishing climb of 4% is not his forte.
I was really suffering in the middle part of the stage, but
on the last climb I was actually feeling comfortable again. Lawson and I would
try to escort John up the finishing climb in the hopes that we could accelerate
when the road leveled out before the line. With 5k to go, the whole team moved
up, but Warren, Lawson, and I were swarmed during Warren’s tussle with the
Orica train. We spent the next 3k trying to get back to the others. My legs
actually felt good, but I used them trying to get back to John, never quite
making it. I pulled the plug at 1k to go, saving my legs for another day.
Although the race didn’t end the way we wanted, I’m
encouraged by my form so far as well as my ability to fight for position when
it’s important. We got swarmed there at the end, but after that (and in
yesterday’s finish) I was managing well. I still have work to do, but progress
is always good.
In other news, my hair is finally long enough again that it
looks alright without product! So now I can save a few more minutes a day by
not fooling with my hair. And I ripped all the completed stages and unnecessary
pages out of the race book, so now it’s 30% lighter. It’s all about saving
energy, right? We’ve been at the same hotel for the whole race so far, but that
changes tomorrow. Over the remaining stages, we’ll change hotels over a dozen
times as we make our way around Spain.
I turn 26 tomorrow. I’m not one for big birthday
celebrations, but I have to say that racing the Vuelta will be far and away the
coolest thing I’ve ever done on my birthday.
3 down, 18 to go!
