I learned how to race bikes on the track. I did plenty of road races before I took my first trip out to the Kissena Velodrome in the early 20-teens, but I never figured out how to get any results despite being a decent sprinter on paper. Getting to the front at the right time is something I didn’t learn until I started doing a lot of track.

One of the keys to the track (and most road races) is to have the feeling that you are in control of the race. There are plenty of variables that are out of your control, but if you don’t believe that the race is yours to win you’re never going to cross the line even close to first. That feeling is a combination of fitness, knowledge (of your competitors, of the track, of your bike, of the race dynamics), and a certain inner confidence that comes naturally to some and takes a years of work for others.

I’ve been away racing on dirt for many years, but have, on previous occasions, had this combination of things at the track. When I arrived at Kissena on Sunday my body had the instant memory, like a tingly spidey sense. Unfortunately, however, the reality is I arrived with no top end, no knowledge of my competition, only vague familiarity with my bike, and absolutely no thought put into the race beyond signing up. It’s been more than five years since I’ve seriously raced track. The familiarity of rolling up to the velodrome was actually disorienting. I flailed around around like a fish on dry ground for a while, and I made a ton of mistakes—but by the end it I finally started to feel a glimmer of the memory of what being decent a track feels like.

I came to the track for the first time in so many years because it was women’s day, sponsored by IAMICANIWILLIDO, and my teammate Megan encouraged people to come out. Five TBDers decided to sign up: Megan, Steph, Lucia, James, and I. There was historic women’s turnout. There were so many racers signed up that the novice women’s field had to be split in two (it’s worth noting that the men’s novice field did, too!), and the 1/2/3/4 women’s race started with 18 (!!!) in the group. That’s roughly twice as large as any women’s field I’ve ever raced in at Kissena. HUGE.

I was personally pretty nervous because not only had it been years since I’d been on the track, but it had been months since the last time I raced in a pack, and I hadn’t done a vo2max interval since at least October. My top end is fumes right now, and I’d forgotten how to ride with people around me. Brakeless, no less! (It’s just like riding a bike, though.)

I also had a bit of a gear problem, in both senses of the word. I couldn’t get the 17t cog to come off my wheel, and I only have a wheel with a one-sided hub, and I decided after much banging both last night and today that I would just try to spin it out in a tiny gear. I KNEW this was a bad idea when I made the choice to give up before the first race. Unsurprisingly, I regretted it.

In the first race (points race, 3 sprints) I was at like 120rpm just to try to stay with the main pack, and I never had any chance of getting near the front for the points. I also saw someone early on try to move up through the middle where there was no space for them and freaked out and took on too much wind for a few laps to not be near anyone. I was completely out of position for the first two sprints, first because I was trying to remember how to move on a track bike, then because I was trying to figure out how to get anywhere on like 80 gear inches (this is too few gear inches). At some point with maybe two or three to go I attacked as things came back together to see if it would do anything, because I was either going to be spinning ahead or spinning behind so I might as well see how much of a gap I could get. Theoretically (in my head), this was a decent move. But practically I was off the front spinning my little heart out for a minute and then I got absolutely clobbered by everyone in the last 300m.

Between the first and second races, I finally found someone strong enough to get the cog off (huge shoutout to James and the skin on his thumb that he sacrificed, I feel really bad about it) and changed to a gear I could actually compete with. I then had a mechanical off the rail at the beginning of the second race (5 lap scratch), and we all had to start again after my rear wheel got actually tight. I had so much adrenaline from holding up the start that I went off the front on lap 1, turn 2. Absolute asshole move. Would have been an asshole move if I had the legs for it, was even more of an asshole move because I knew I didn’t. For about 20 seconds it felt good: I caught everyone off guard, I created a group with a decent gap….. and then we got caught because 15 people with fresh legs were still behind us and it was still the first lap. I later tried to hide from the wind on the last lap back straight, which worked really well except I forgot you can’t move up 8 bike lengths in 100m and really I just ended up hiding myself from being in contention.

During the third race (5 lap scratch again), I finally decided to chill and not unnecessarily go off the front earlier than my legs could sustain. Unfortunately I also failed to respond to the attack with two laps to go and was too far back to come around for the top positions. I think I got like 6th maybe though in that one? I definitely did better than the first two, but was still far enough back that I did not even know who won.

Something weird happened to me at the end of the third race, though. Suddenly I wasn’t just there to be there, but there to race. I was pumped for it. I had spent all day saying that I was tired and was going to leave right after the third race, without staying for any of the post-omnium feature races. But the time for me to pack up came and went. I got back on my bike. I did a few laps in the post-omnium break. Then I got on the rail and was ready to race yet again.

It was scratch again, 7 laps this time. It being both the 4th race and a few extra laps suited me more than the 5 lap scratch. I’ve been doing endless 10, 20, 60 minute zone 3 tempo sessions in preparation for mountain bike season. All I have is the vague ability to endure hard efforts over time, rather than any high end fitness. I am pleased to report that for the second time that day I found some chill. I remembered that I knew the fast people, and I should position myself accordingly. I followed the right wheels all race. Then, of course, we hit the windy back stretch, I tucked in, and for one last time I failed to push it over the top and come around at the end. This time it was not really a failure of strategy I just wasn’t strong enough. But I got 4th! Best result all day! I saw the winner cross the line, not more than two bike lengths ahead of me (uh, maybe three, let’s not go back to the tape).

Back home later that night I texted my coach from the couch, where I would be from the moment I got home until the moment I went to bed: “I forgot about track. TrainingPeaks says I did roughly 7 TSS but I can’t move.”

Yep, he confirmed, that’s track.

Photos by Steph Mangan.