was a
guy I'd met two nights before and invited to the race, not knowing I’d be racing against him. By coincidence, he and another friend were running 2nd and 3rd. We
came to the final 2.5 miles and I slowed down considerably to let them
catch up. I said,"Okay guys...do either of you know the course?" Neither gave a definite answer so I said,"Okay, here's
the deal...we need to agree on a course". We discussed it for a few seconds and
decided on a course, and once again I took off.About 1 kilometer from the finish I came across a
road guard/race official, I gave a confused look and yelled,"Which way?" He smiled and pointed me on. Three seconds later I heard a
yell,"NO!!!I'M SORRY!!!THIS WAY!!!" I slid to a stop, reversed
and came back. I can still remember crossing the line, looking at the
spectators, shaking my head and saying,"In *#!credible!!". I was so dazed
by the mess it never hit me that I'd won my first bicycle race.
Doug(who was immediately recruited for our Volvo team) got second, and Pat got third.
These two wins were a relief--from the start I was expected to start winning, for some reason. But they were disappointing. When I crossed the finish line I just felt like,"So what?" The wins were too easy, each one just a case of me picking my time and taking easy wins against minor competition. I wanted a challenge.