On the morning of the race, it was cold obviously, and there was a fresh dusting of snow on the ground. This was going to make for an interesting seeing just two days before everything had been a mud pit. Meaning that all of the mud and muddy ruts would have become frozen bobsled tracks. Almost too Canadian for comfort...
The course was open for training for an hour before our start. The boys and I headed out for a lap or two before retreating to the heated trailer to jump on the trainers. After a good warm up it was time to make our way to the start boxes. The start was the part of the race that I was most worried about. It was going to be violent, fast and potentially deadly. I was sketching out a bit, not going to lie.
Rolling up to the line I was the 20th call up. Quickly forcing my way up a bit towards the front and I became second row. This was going to be a good race, I felt good, confident, but insanely nervous. When the light turned green, we were off!
Sprint, sprint - BREAK! (As buddy here almost takes you out flying across in front of you) Around the first turn and down the straight, settling into single file, picking them off one by one. Over the first sand pit, avoid the cartwheeling American. Up the stairs on the flyover, run over the German that tripped. Up the switchback, sliding on the icy ground. Battle for your spot, don't give in, don't give up a position - this is worlds!
The first three laps or so were successful, moving my way up from 21st to 12th. Then it started to slip away a bit on me. A position here, a slip there and I found myself in 17th. Battling with two British guys where I found myself in some tough competition. Between the screaming back muscles and the phlegm ridden breaths I held it, all the way until the icy off camber section. I slide out and they were quick to go past. For the last lap I chased and chased but couldn't pull them in. 19th is the position in which I finished. 19th in the world.
Good day at the office.
