Nationals: Day 1
David is up in front: “I’m about to go very fast, but I want you to know that we’re going to be safe.”
My heart rate is through the roof. White knuckles. We go hard through another corner. Dani yelling from the side: "you've gained three minutes.
"Twelve hours ago we were on the Crit course at Ninegrit. Two days back we were battling on the dirt roads of Scituate. I'm not going to nationals. My season was supposed to be over.
Lizzie: "One mile to go. Does everyone have their boarding passes ready?!" I scoot out of the way to the back of RISD2. We hit the terminal at TF Green, doors fly open, and three Grand Junction-bound College Hill cyclists sprint—on foot—towards a plane. They have seven minutes to spare.
Dani, Lizzie and David are off to Colorado for the Collegiate National Championships. I agreed to travel with them to Boston Airport in order to drive our van back to town. After saying my goodbyes and good-lucks, I head south.
I pop out of one of Boston's freeway tunnels into a flurry of missed calls. "We need you to come back. Our flight is from Providence, not Boston!"
75 minutes to go. The clock is ticking. RISD2 better be ready for a breakaway.