I am not sorry that this is a race report

Usually I try not to write race reports. A lot of racers' blogs are so freaking repetitious, so cookie-cutter, that it discourages me from writing my own. However, I'm so happy with how my race went yesterday that I'll write a little about it.
AngryMark HUNGRY!!!
It was a 15 mile race on a 4-corner, 1 mile, pancake-flat course. My nerves were on edge going in, because my last two races have been absolutely abysmal, to the point where I deny that the North Jersey Classic in Park Ridge even happened. Surely it was all just a bad dream. Still, bad dreams can shake one's real-world confidence, and everyone else around me at the start looked so much fitter than me.

This was downright silly.

After surfing the front 1/3 of the pack for the first few laps, watching attack after attack get caught, I was feeling pretty good. A group of 3 went off the front, including two guys on the same team. Instead of chasing, the pack just started looking at each other, and the gap grew. Recognizing that this attack had potential, I shifted up, sprinted like someone had lit a fire under my ass, and bridged up to the break.

This hurt... a lot. By the time I caught the break, I was losing peripheral vision, and my heart was doing a drumroll. We never got our act together, and we got caught.
DK raced a few hours before getting on a 15 hour flight...
that's hardcore
Mark and I took turns counterattacking each others' unsuccessful moves, which was fun... but unsuccessful. There wasn't a single break that didn't have one of us in it.
DanFlan got crashed, but still said,
'I got to ride my bike, so I'm happy'
When the solo 1-lap-to-go break crashed himself out (yes, this actually happened), Mark found my wheel in the subsequent reorganization. I tried to lead him out, but he's enough of a lone-wolfie that he found a better wheel and sprinted for 3rd. More importantly, I had the wherewithal to contest the sprint myself, and I got 7th!
Me, AngryMark, and Jim post-race
Why is this a big deal? I've already won a 4/5 race (albeit in Cleveland, which is honestly just not on the same level). I didn't do anything spectacular today. This won't even get me any upgrade points. Why do I care?

Almost exactly 6 months ago, while training with Will, I drove him crazy with questions about pack dynamics. How does one get into the draft after being out in the wind? How does one avoid half-wheeling without braking? How does one allow or prevent the re-entry of another racer into the draft? I thought that after taking a turn on the front, I'd have to drop back to dead-last, like the pack is a giant paceline. 6 months ago. Seriously. Recall how happy I was when I simply finished a race.

Now, on days when I feel even semi-good, I'm treating the race like a plaything, toying with other teams' pacelines (sorry Van Dessel, but you were pissing me off) and surfing the pack pretty intuitively. It's partially a question of fitness, but mostly a function of newfound confidence by which I am simply floored.

In the race report I sent my coach, I concluded with the following: "i am a very happy guy. there is absolutely nothing i would've done differently"

There was more to the day than just my little 4/5 race. For example, the kids' races down the home-stretch were pretty hotly contested. Those little gremlins pedaled like fiends... until about 5m to go, when they noticed the neck-level tape stretched across the finish line. Not wanting to be clotheslined for winning, they would stomp on their brakes, locking out the rear wheel. Every age-group's race finished in a skid.
#75 won his race at about 150rpm

Since the race was a fundraiser for the local fire department, the organizers put on a firefighter's race. The poor bastards had to race 3 miles in their full turnout gear, just as if they were going into a burning building. Most were on WalMart-worthy mountain bikes. Oof.
The firefighters' race

In conclusion, I will simply say: I am a very happy guy.