[dc]T[/dc]here's an uncomparably special feeling that accompanies racing. The thrill of the pack, the ticking sounds of other racers rowing through gears, the hum and woosh of carbon tubular wheels cutting through the air and the heart thumping tunnel vision of the hard last push to the line gives way to the inevitable post race decompressing. In those first few moments after the bike is thrown across the line, lunging for those last millimeters that could mean the difference between victory and defeat, we finally allow our senses to take in just how much searing, burning pain we have in our bodies. We experience the aching strain of trying to suck every last molecule of oxygen into our carbon dioxide riddled lungs. We feel the buildup of lactic acid tickling raw nerve endings in our legs. Maybe we even have to shake off the adrenaline fueled jitters that accompany the frenetic dash to the podium.
[pullquote]We finally allow our senses to take in just how much searing, burning pain we have in our bodies.[/pullquote]Even as we warm down, letting the stress of our effort melt away as we spin our legs aimlessly, we begin to take notice of the distinct feelings that only can accompany a good, hard race. It's an almost indescribable, sweet sensation of "job done, now it's time to let it all hang out." As time wears on, we rack our bike and unpin our number so that our racing strip is ready to be laundered and hung for the next round of combat. Through all of it, we feel those telltale signs of a hard race: the tightness in our back muscles, the achy stiffness in the glutes, and the utterly spent feeling in our quads. How I love the feeling of legs quivering while standing in the shower, warm soapy water cleansing and washing away victory or defeat (hopefully victory more often than not). That feeling of stiffness, soreness and completely spent muscles is something to revel in, not shy away from.
It proves we've worked our hardest, no matter what the result. It should be a reminder, akin to a battle scar, of what we have or haven't achieved. But regardless of the outcome we achieved, it proves we've left it all on the road. There's nothing quite as hard or impossibly special as racing, and our legs never let us forget that.
