More mud.
After the surprise of a dry-ish round at Brecon, normal service resumed. I'd raced here once before in 2012 and had a nightmare with a bike that clogged to a standstill with mud. After heavy rain on Saturday, the race on Sunday was always going to be messy. The drive down the M4 through some torrentially heavy showers on Sunday morning just rammed the point home.
A recce of the course proved entertaining; a real mixture of surfaces and only a couple of sections that promised deep mud. It was going to be mostly wet and slippery rather than thick, clogging mud.
My usual pre-race routine is to recce the course an hour or so before the start, then change into my race kit, have something to eat and drink, and warm up on the road for 20 minutes, leaving 20 minutes for one last look at the course and last minute faffing. As I warmed up in the rain while the youth race took place on the course (and hence churned it up), it became clear that this was one of those days when a lot of the information I'd gleaned in practice was going to be irrelevant, as I'd be faced with a much wetter and muddier course than an hour ago.
I lined up in my now customary 30th or so on the grid and got a rather lacklustre start. After a short sprint, we went more or less straight into a series of slippery switchbacks, where I seemed to be continually on the wrong line. Claire called up 32nd place after the starting loop. Ho hum. I settled down though, and picked a few people off on lap one whilst trying to re-learn the best lines on the now much muddier course. A perfect example of this was a small gravel ditch at the bottom of the course. This was rideable in practice, but a bit tricky, and I'd devoted a few minutes to making sure I could nail it. However, I never rode it once in the race, as the corner immediately prior to it was so muddy it was quicker to run, and once off the bike I may as well run through the ditch before remounting.
Claire called up 28th place at the end of lap one. Slow but steady progress made then. After a few laps things went quiet and I seemed rather on my own, first time that's happened in a race for a while, and it's hard to make sure you keep going hard when you are under no pressure, particularly in tricky conditions. I tried to press on though, while staying focussed and not making any mistakes in the increasingly slippery corners. I found the limit of adhesion a couple of times as my tyres slid sideways, but I always stayed upright.
In the last couple of laps I caught one rider but also came under pressure from behind, and had a good last lap tussle with one rider, right to the line. The lap ended with a series of wide but muddy corners, then a dismount for a set of planks and a short sprint to the line. I held onto the cleanest line through the muddy corners, got to the planks first, jumped back on and managed to do just enough to cross the line ahead. At the time of writing I don't know where I came overall; the judges are probably still trying to work it out having spent the afternoon trying to read increasingly muddy numbers on peoples' backs. They had a difficult job to do today.
It's three weeks until my next race now. I'm looking forward to the break. It will give me a chance to take a week off from training, and give the bike some much needed TLC. Oh, and clean the inside of the car, which looks like someone's been mud wrestling in it.
Tuesday, 4 November 2014
Tuesday, 28 October 2014
26 October: Welsh Cyclocross League round 5. Brecon Leisure Centre
The middle round of three Sundays in a row of racing cyclocross, and the half way point in the season, for me anyway. I've settled into the rhythm now of packing the car with bikes, kit and food, and unpacking it all in a much messier state several hours later.
Brecon has a reputation from being a pretty muddy race, not helped by hosting the British Schools Cycling Association cyclocross championships the day before our race (why didn't we do cyclocross in PE when I was at school), meaning the course is well-used by Sunday. However, despite a fairly wet week the weekend was mostly dry, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the course holding up well as I rolled round in practice. I've raced here before and the course was largely unchanged: twisty sections up and down grassy banks, interspersed with a couple of flat blasts across playing fields and two sets of planks to dismount for. A classic grass roots level cyclocross course really, and a good one at that.
I was gridded on the 4th row and got a decent start. Apart from a couple of corners, the first kilometre was wide open and allowed plenty of space to move up. I held on to a place in the top 25 on the first lap - it was reassuring to still be able to see the front of the race for all of lap one and not have the leaders disappear after a few corners. I was far enough up the field to avoid any bottlenecks, but I was in the thick of it and had to fight for position and avoid a couple of the inevitable first lap crashes.
As things settled down, I found myself part of a group of four riders that gradually fell apart and reformed throughout the middle part of the race. One rider kept getting a gap in the more technical sections; two of us worked together to pull him back on the straights. There was very little rest on the course, and I was giving it 100% to stay with the group. I realised this was even more critical when a glance backwards revealed another half a dozen riders breathing down our necks. If I backed off or made any mistakes I would fall rapidly back through the field. Gradually, our group fell apart once and for all, with me running third out of the original four. I was still working as hard as I could, desperately trying to keep in touch with the rider in front, all the while aware I was being caught from behind. The last couple of laps became a fight to defend my place. Despite riding as hard as I could whilst keeping things smooth in the increasingly slippery corners, one rider caught me. I stayed with him for a few hundred metres, but as as soon he had a gap I was powerless to respond. On the bell lap I was then being caught by another rider, and had to claw out the last of my reserves to maintain the gap I had.
I finished the race feeling completely exhausted, nauseous, and a little dizzy. But I was satisfied with my race - I'd lost the battle I'd been in mid-race, but I could not have given any more effort, and I'd managed to ride smoothly and make no big mistakes despite being on the rivet all race. I'd crept into the top 20 in 19th place.
Brecon has a reputation from being a pretty muddy race, not helped by hosting the British Schools Cycling Association cyclocross championships the day before our race (why didn't we do cyclocross in PE when I was at school), meaning the course is well-used by Sunday. However, despite a fairly wet week the weekend was mostly dry, and I was pleasantly surprised to find the course holding up well as I rolled round in practice. I've raced here before and the course was largely unchanged: twisty sections up and down grassy banks, interspersed with a couple of flat blasts across playing fields and two sets of planks to dismount for. A classic grass roots level cyclocross course really, and a good one at that.
I was gridded on the 4th row and got a decent start. Apart from a couple of corners, the first kilometre was wide open and allowed plenty of space to move up. I held on to a place in the top 25 on the first lap - it was reassuring to still be able to see the front of the race for all of lap one and not have the leaders disappear after a few corners. I was far enough up the field to avoid any bottlenecks, but I was in the thick of it and had to fight for position and avoid a couple of the inevitable first lap crashes.
As things settled down, I found myself part of a group of four riders that gradually fell apart and reformed throughout the middle part of the race. One rider kept getting a gap in the more technical sections; two of us worked together to pull him back on the straights. There was very little rest on the course, and I was giving it 100% to stay with the group. I realised this was even more critical when a glance backwards revealed another half a dozen riders breathing down our necks. If I backed off or made any mistakes I would fall rapidly back through the field. Gradually, our group fell apart once and for all, with me running third out of the original four. I was still working as hard as I could, desperately trying to keep in touch with the rider in front, all the while aware I was being caught from behind. The last couple of laps became a fight to defend my place. Despite riding as hard as I could whilst keeping things smooth in the increasingly slippery corners, one rider caught me. I stayed with him for a few hundred metres, but as as soon he had a gap I was powerless to respond. On the bell lap I was then being caught by another rider, and had to claw out the last of my reserves to maintain the gap I had.
I finished the race feeling completely exhausted, nauseous, and a little dizzy. But I was satisfied with my race - I'd lost the battle I'd been in mid-race, but I could not have given any more effort, and I'd managed to ride smoothly and make no big mistakes despite being on the rivet all race. I'd crept into the top 20 in 19th place.
25 October: Maindy Criterium (4th cat/veterans)
A one-off trip back onto the tarmac. Maindy Leisure Centre in Cardiff boasts an outdoor 500 metre velodrome. This was a one-off end-of-season afternoon of racing. I'd come along for some extra training, and to work for a couple of guys from AJAX who needed to grab a couple of points in order to move up from 4th to 3rd cat. My job was to try and shut down any attacks, and keep the bunch together to ensure they could pick the the points they needed in a bunch sprint.
About 25 guys started, not bad for a road race in late October I suppose. After two laps done practically at walking pace, the first attack came and it all got fast and furious. A group of three got a gap, which I did my best to claw my way across. Once things (relatively) calmed down, I realised team mate James (who needed points) had missed the move and was out the back of the now-depleted bunch. I dropped back to him and tried to help him close the gap. By the time we started to work together the gap was about a third of a lap. Over the course of the next ten laps three of us worked hard and made no impression on this whatsoever, and then watched it start to grow instead of shrink.
After this things are a bit of a blur. James agreed the best thing was to lose a lap so that he could conserve energy in the bunch. As they came round to lap us, there was another attack, which I tried, and this time failed, to close down. In doing so I fell out the back of the bunch. With a cyclocross race the next day to worry about, I cruised round cooling down for the remaining few laps of the race.
About 25 guys started, not bad for a road race in late October I suppose. After two laps done practically at walking pace, the first attack came and it all got fast and furious. A group of three got a gap, which I did my best to claw my way across. Once things (relatively) calmed down, I realised team mate James (who needed points) had missed the move and was out the back of the now-depleted bunch. I dropped back to him and tried to help him close the gap. By the time we started to work together the gap was about a third of a lap. Over the course of the next ten laps three of us worked hard and made no impression on this whatsoever, and then watched it start to grow instead of shrink.
After this things are a bit of a blur. James agreed the best thing was to lose a lap so that he could conserve energy in the bunch. As they came round to lap us, there was another attack, which I tried, and this time failed, to close down. In doing so I fell out the back of the bunch. With a cyclocross race the next day to worry about, I cruised round cooling down for the remaining few laps of the race.
Wednesday, 22 October 2014
19 October: Welsh cyclocross league round 4. Carmarthen showground
Welcome to the season proper - with mud, and lots of it.
Another long trip, this time into West Wales and a showground on the outskirts of Carmarthen. We were sharing the venue with a car boot sale, which apparently had been in full swing since 6am. 6am!! Now, I know racing bicycles around muddy fields in the Welsh winter may seem a pretty eccentric way to spend your Sundays, but the fact that some people are prepared to get up at 5am on a Sunday for the chance to buy some bric a brac just proves that, well, to put it diplomatically, everyone is different...
It was a blustery day, but bright with just the odd light shower around. It soon became clear that the wind would be a bit of a factor, but the mud more so. The course was flat apart from where it snaked up and down one small section of banking. The lower lying sections were more or less under water, and the parts being used for the junior races were already getting very churned up. I don't mind it when the going is heavy, but changing every scrap of your kit and washing your bike after warm up is a bit of a drag.
The start was 200 metres or so of unmade road, and then straight into the mud. It was impossible to move up on the straight, but I was on the inside for the first few turns and managed to brake late and pass a good few riders down the inside of corners. The first lap was crazy - there were lots of tight switchbacks in the mud, and everyone was passing and repassing into them, rubbing tyres and bodies while all the while looking for the least worst line through the quagmire. Add to that a couple of riders crashing in the pack and you have a recipe for mayhem. Wonderfully fun mayhem.
It seemed like I was managing to gain more places than I was losing though. After a lap things began to settle down, and I soon got into what would be a race-long battle with two other riders, the three of us sometimes locked together, and never separated by more than a few seconds. Another thing I love about cyclocross is these battles. You try to work out where another rider is weaker or stronger than you, all the while pushing to the limit. Indeed, I learned from my fellow competitors that the muddiest section of the course, although rideable, was quicker to run, as they both passed me doing just that as I turned my pedals slowly through the mud. In the end I came second in the three way battle; one rider opened up a gap that I couldn't close on the last lap, while the third pushed me hard all the way to the line. It's good to race all the way to the end like that; it certainly keeps you motivated!
This was one of those solid but unspectacular races. Despite the race-long fight for places, I struggled to find that extra gear and really push hard at times, particularly on the faster sections of the course where I grasped an opportunity to recover from time to time. I finished 26th, which I suspect is more or less where I will end up in the championship.
Another long trip, this time into West Wales and a showground on the outskirts of Carmarthen. We were sharing the venue with a car boot sale, which apparently had been in full swing since 6am. 6am!! Now, I know racing bicycles around muddy fields in the Welsh winter may seem a pretty eccentric way to spend your Sundays, but the fact that some people are prepared to get up at 5am on a Sunday for the chance to buy some bric a brac just proves that, well, to put it diplomatically, everyone is different...
It was a blustery day, but bright with just the odd light shower around. It soon became clear that the wind would be a bit of a factor, but the mud more so. The course was flat apart from where it snaked up and down one small section of banking. The lower lying sections were more or less under water, and the parts being used for the junior races were already getting very churned up. I don't mind it when the going is heavy, but changing every scrap of your kit and washing your bike after warm up is a bit of a drag.
The start was 200 metres or so of unmade road, and then straight into the mud. It was impossible to move up on the straight, but I was on the inside for the first few turns and managed to brake late and pass a good few riders down the inside of corners. The first lap was crazy - there were lots of tight switchbacks in the mud, and everyone was passing and repassing into them, rubbing tyres and bodies while all the while looking for the least worst line through the quagmire. Add to that a couple of riders crashing in the pack and you have a recipe for mayhem. Wonderfully fun mayhem.
It seemed like I was managing to gain more places than I was losing though. After a lap things began to settle down, and I soon got into what would be a race-long battle with two other riders, the three of us sometimes locked together, and never separated by more than a few seconds. Another thing I love about cyclocross is these battles. You try to work out where another rider is weaker or stronger than you, all the while pushing to the limit. Indeed, I learned from my fellow competitors that the muddiest section of the course, although rideable, was quicker to run, as they both passed me doing just that as I turned my pedals slowly through the mud. In the end I came second in the three way battle; one rider opened up a gap that I couldn't close on the last lap, while the third pushed me hard all the way to the line. It's good to race all the way to the end like that; it certainly keeps you motivated!
This was one of those solid but unspectacular races. Despite the race-long fight for places, I struggled to find that extra gear and really push hard at times, particularly on the faster sections of the course where I grasped an opportunity to recover from time to time. I finished 26th, which I suspect is more or less where I will end up in the championship.
5 October: Welsh cyclocross league round 3 (Foxley, Hereford)
A long drive for the 3rd round (the 2nd for me) of the Welsh league in, er, England actually, just over the border.
After a good start to the 'cross season, I signed off my last write up by noting that there would be weeks where things didn't go perfectly, and courses that didn't suit me. Well, this was both!
Another new venue to me, of which I'd heard two things: first, it's as bumpy as anything, and second, stream crossings are a major feature. Practice laps showed that this was indeed the two things you most needed to know. A long tarmac drag uphill started the lap, and from then on it was twisty woodland stuff, with two dismounts for planks, two stream crossings (the second rideable if a bit tricky, the first most definitely a run, up and down a steep bank), and relentless bumps. Practice went OK, and while I enjoyed the course, I knew it didn't suit me as well as it would some other riders.
I was still making up for missing round 1 in terms of placement on the grid, and so was left to find the best start position I could in about 30th place. I moved up a few places on the long tarmac charge at the beginning of the lap, and then the first few corners were quintessential cyclocross: jostling for position - literally, with lots of body contact. Everyone rode hard but fair, and that close proximity fighting for position is one of the things I love about this sport.
Down to the second dismount and it all started to go wrong. I've a bad habit I'm trying to kick, which is unclipping and balancing on top of the pedal on fast dismounts, as a security against not being able to unclip at the last minute. Well today I learned why that is a bad habit, particularly on a bumpy course. My foot slipped off the pedal as I swung my body round and I crashed in front of the planks. I was straight back up as riders swarmed all round me, and I got going again and tried to compose myself. I then had a weird situation of trying to run a 'systems check' of damage to bike or body, whilst simultaneously trying to settle back into the race. It soon became apparent that all was not right - my saddle was loose; I'd broken either one of the rails or the seatpin, and it was hanging on by a thread as I bounced over the bumps. I got back to the pits as quick as I could on a bike on which I was unable to pedal seated, picked up the spare bike, and got ready for a race of damage limitation.
I came out into some serious traffic, and it took me the best part of the next lap to settle down, get used to riding a different bike (my budget does not stretch to two identical cyclocross race bikes - this was my older, not very racey cyclocross bike), and begin picking the riders in front of me off. I then moved up the field steadily but unspectacularly all race, but crossed the line in 44th.
Two rounds gone, and I suspect I have had my best and worst result of my season. Time will tell. Right, I'm off to practice dismounting and remounting on the bumpiest bit of ground I can find.
After a good start to the 'cross season, I signed off my last write up by noting that there would be weeks where things didn't go perfectly, and courses that didn't suit me. Well, this was both!
Another new venue to me, of which I'd heard two things: first, it's as bumpy as anything, and second, stream crossings are a major feature. Practice laps showed that this was indeed the two things you most needed to know. A long tarmac drag uphill started the lap, and from then on it was twisty woodland stuff, with two dismounts for planks, two stream crossings (the second rideable if a bit tricky, the first most definitely a run, up and down a steep bank), and relentless bumps. Practice went OK, and while I enjoyed the course, I knew it didn't suit me as well as it would some other riders.
I was still making up for missing round 1 in terms of placement on the grid, and so was left to find the best start position I could in about 30th place. I moved up a few places on the long tarmac charge at the beginning of the lap, and then the first few corners were quintessential cyclocross: jostling for position - literally, with lots of body contact. Everyone rode hard but fair, and that close proximity fighting for position is one of the things I love about this sport.
Down to the second dismount and it all started to go wrong. I've a bad habit I'm trying to kick, which is unclipping and balancing on top of the pedal on fast dismounts, as a security against not being able to unclip at the last minute. Well today I learned why that is a bad habit, particularly on a bumpy course. My foot slipped off the pedal as I swung my body round and I crashed in front of the planks. I was straight back up as riders swarmed all round me, and I got going again and tried to compose myself. I then had a weird situation of trying to run a 'systems check' of damage to bike or body, whilst simultaneously trying to settle back into the race. It soon became apparent that all was not right - my saddle was loose; I'd broken either one of the rails or the seatpin, and it was hanging on by a thread as I bounced over the bumps. I got back to the pits as quick as I could on a bike on which I was unable to pedal seated, picked up the spare bike, and got ready for a race of damage limitation.
I came out into some serious traffic, and it took me the best part of the next lap to settle down, get used to riding a different bike (my budget does not stretch to two identical cyclocross race bikes - this was my older, not very racey cyclocross bike), and begin picking the riders in front of me off. I then moved up the field steadily but unspectacularly all race, but crossed the line in 44th.
Two rounds gone, and I suspect I have had my best and worst result of my season. Time will tell. Right, I'm off to practice dismounting and remounting on the bumpiest bit of ground I can find.
Wednesday, 1 October 2014
28 September: Welsh Cyclocross League round 2, Amman Valley
The cyclocross season is upon us. I thinks it's fair to say that everything this year has been building up to this.
I've dabbled in cyclocross since I did my first races back in 2007, turning up to a handful of races each season, and not really doing much more to prepare for them than packing the car the night before. This year I'm putting all my eggs in the cyclocross basket. Cycling-wise this year has all been built up to this, and I came into this first race off the back of seven weeks of what counted, by my standards anyway, of structured training. August and September has involved a lot of early mornings spent running, doing road intervals, or technique drills in the local park (the latter has given me some kind of reputation with the local dog walkers I'm sure, who can't understand why the strange cyclist keeps jumping on and off his bike repeatedly).
So, I was as ready as I'd ever been for the start of a 'cross season, but I had no real idea how ready that was. The Welsh League seems to have spent the years since we moved to South Wales getting bigger and more competitive. Numbers seem to have stabilised at 120 riders or so, but that's a big change from the 60 or 70 who lined up when I started racing this league back in 2009. This expansion was accompanied for me by a steady slide backwards through the field - after a season of making the top 15 on a regular basis, I spent the next three seasons languishing in the lower reaches of the top 20. Having taken almost an entire season off, scoring only a DNF at the final round of 2013, I had no idea what was a realistic target - top 20? Or top 40? Or just top half of the field? I tried not to overanalyse it, whilst in reality doing just that, compounded by missing round 1 and scrutinising the results for names of people who used to finish near me in races.
Race day dawned, with the end of an ususually dry September forecast to give us one more gloriously sunny Sunday. The warm and dry conditions meant packing relatively light for a 'cross race - no need for a huge bag full of spare clothes, or the bucket, pressure washer and brushes. That will all change soon I'm sure. The venue was a pony club complete with 'trotting track' - an oval track, about 800m long and surfaced with gravel. The course spent about a third of the time in this wide open arena, either on the track or twisting through the infield, and the rest of the time snaking through the woodland which bordered it. A couple of practice laps revealed a pleasant surprise - no forced dismounts! There was one rooty drop and one awkward step up across a drainage ditch, but both were rideable in the dry grippy conditions as long as you had a bit of commitment.
The trotting track was used to full advantage to spread out the field, with a full lap of it at the beginning of the race before we headed into the first bottleneck in the woods. This also worked to my advantage - there was room on the wide track for riders to start about 25 abreast, so despite not being at round 1 (and therefore not being gridded), I still got a spot on the front row. Before I knew it the commisaire's words were over, ending with the usual "I will start you at some point in the next ten seconds" and then silence; wait poised for the whistle and 50 minutes of Pure Sweet Hell.
I'm no great sprinter off the line, but get me up to speed and I can go pretty hard for a kilometre or so, and so I managed to get into the first corner in the top 20, and ride a pretty smooth and traffic-free first lap. I played percentages and ran the tricky step across the drainage ditch, as insurance against someone in front of me making a mistake and causing me to stall. Claire called up that I was 22nd at the end of lap one. That seemed like an acceptable place to be, I thought, and carried on pressing, making sure I could defend that, maybe even sneak into the top 20.
I spent the next few laps to-ing and fro-ing with a couple of riders, but the second half of the race was largely me on my own, picking off the backmarkers and waiting for the bell. Somehow, after a completely dry September, the organisers has found a couple of muddy corners, one of which cut up to the point where it caught me out - my front wheel slid as I turned in, I overcorrected and my bars bounced off a tree on the inside of the turn. No harm done, but a reminder to keep things steady and remember how conditions can always change in a race.
I got lapped by the leader on my final lap. If I'm going to get lapped then let it be then, as it means two laps to go is suddenly magically transformed into your final lap. I allowed myself a glance backwards to make sure I was under no pressure in the last few hundred metres, but still tried to press hard all the way to the line. I crossed it in relief; relief that the pain in my muscles and lungs would ease, and relief that months of effort and preparation has translated into a better result than I had allowed myself to hope for. I thought I'd probably snuck into the top 20, so I was very pleased to see the results and find that I'd come 14th.
There's no room for complacency though. I'm sure not every Sunday will go as well as this one, and not every week will the course suit me this perfectly. Indeed, as I write this the long-range weather forecast suggests that the weather will resume normal service by next Sunday, and we could be in for a very different set of conditions.
Thursday, 4 September 2014
31 August 2014: Two cross country races in a day
What better way to end the summer than deciding, on Thursday night, to race on Sunday not once but twice.
We're away in the Midlands this week for a couple of weddings and some downtime. Of course the first thing that springs to mind after 'downtime' these days is 'is there a race I can go and do'. With the long range forecast looking good, I found myself hunting on the internet for holiday races. Lo and behold, the final round of the Midlands XC series was on not too far from Birmingham; the series is run by my old friend James, and so it would be downright rude not to show up, for a pre-cyclocross season leg-stretcher at the end of a three week training block, or so I reasoned. Andy, another Midlands buddy, helps James out at a few races so I dropped him a message to see if he was going to be there. He wasn't, because he was helping organise the last round of a summer evening XC series run by his club, Royal Leamington Spa CC. One race at 14.30, one at 18.30, only an hour's (fast) drive away from each other....and so a plan was formed.
Having passed up copious free booze at a wedding on Saturday and managed to get a not-too-late night, I packed the car, buoyed up by perfect weather for racing, and set off mid-morning for Dudmaston, near Bridgenorth. I arrived in plenty of time to catch up with James and warm up with a couple of laps of the fast, dry, 6km-long course, which featured lots of fast singletrack, a couple of steep loose descents and some small drop-offs that even I could get air off. I lined up for the sport race in a very competitive-looking field of about 30 and got ready for a sharp reminder of the chaos and all-out effort that comes at the start of an XC race. Sure enough I nearly crashed 100 metres after the start line, when I hit a rut unsighted behind another rider. I held onto that, and tried to embrace the pain in my lungs and legs whilst fighting for position in the middle of the pack for the first half a lap. Things gradually settled down, for me as a result of getting dropped out the back of a group of four other riders I had been sticking with. With hindsight I could have made more effort to stay with them, but it was going to be a long day, with another race to come, so I tried to just enjoy myself but keep pushing. And I did enjoy myself, vowing to make the effort to do some more XC racing next year as I pushed on round the course, trying to find the fastest lines and keep my legs working hard. At the start of the fourth and final lap I had sight of a rider ahead of me, and spent twenty minutes trying to reel him in. I only managed to closed the gap to him in the final few hundred metres of the race, and he outsprinted me at the end, but it had been something to make me motivated for one more lap.
With all of five minutes of warm down and a race against time to make it to race number two, I packed the car and sped off towards Warwick, for a brisk drive that at no point involved me doing 100mph down the M42 whilst eating pizza off the passenger seat. That would be a terribly reckless way to act just to get to a bike race on time. I made it with about 45 minute to the start. It was (mercifully) a shorter race on a shorter course, and I had time for a couple of warm up laps again, trying to copy Andy's lines through the wooded sections and hoping my legs would feel better in the race itself. The race was a very small affair with only about 30 riders taking the start across all categories, and as a result I bagged myself a spot on the front row. At the start, something I experienced something I can't recall happening to me before: I got the drop on everyone and led the field into the first corner, and through the first section of singletrack. I was relieved of this unfamiliar position before too long, as a rider shot past me up the only major climb on the course, with Andy in hot pursuit. I lost two more places on the first lap, not helped by a couple of silly mistakes - a bit of tiredness creeping in? For the rest of the race I swapped places with another rider repeatedly for 4th and 5th place; he had the edge on me in the technical sections, whereas I made time back to him on the climb. On the last lap he got away from me as far as he had all race, and like race number one I tried to close the gap, wringing out every ounce of strength this time. Once again I closed the gap only within sight of the finish, but this time I managed to win the sprint and come home in 4th place.
It was good to fit some more racing in at the end of a hard block of training. What's more I got to sharpen up my skills on the dirt after lots of racing on tarmac, and remind myself that XC racing is fun and I should do it more! Now it's time for a week of recovery, then three more weeks of training leading me straight into the cyclocross season.
We're away in the Midlands this week for a couple of weddings and some downtime. Of course the first thing that springs to mind after 'downtime' these days is 'is there a race I can go and do'. With the long range forecast looking good, I found myself hunting on the internet for holiday races. Lo and behold, the final round of the Midlands XC series was on not too far from Birmingham; the series is run by my old friend James, and so it would be downright rude not to show up, for a pre-cyclocross season leg-stretcher at the end of a three week training block, or so I reasoned. Andy, another Midlands buddy, helps James out at a few races so I dropped him a message to see if he was going to be there. He wasn't, because he was helping organise the last round of a summer evening XC series run by his club, Royal Leamington Spa CC. One race at 14.30, one at 18.30, only an hour's (fast) drive away from each other....and so a plan was formed.
Having passed up copious free booze at a wedding on Saturday and managed to get a not-too-late night, I packed the car, buoyed up by perfect weather for racing, and set off mid-morning for Dudmaston, near Bridgenorth. I arrived in plenty of time to catch up with James and warm up with a couple of laps of the fast, dry, 6km-long course, which featured lots of fast singletrack, a couple of steep loose descents and some small drop-offs that even I could get air off. I lined up for the sport race in a very competitive-looking field of about 30 and got ready for a sharp reminder of the chaos and all-out effort that comes at the start of an XC race. Sure enough I nearly crashed 100 metres after the start line, when I hit a rut unsighted behind another rider. I held onto that, and tried to embrace the pain in my lungs and legs whilst fighting for position in the middle of the pack for the first half a lap. Things gradually settled down, for me as a result of getting dropped out the back of a group of four other riders I had been sticking with. With hindsight I could have made more effort to stay with them, but it was going to be a long day, with another race to come, so I tried to just enjoy myself but keep pushing. And I did enjoy myself, vowing to make the effort to do some more XC racing next year as I pushed on round the course, trying to find the fastest lines and keep my legs working hard. At the start of the fourth and final lap I had sight of a rider ahead of me, and spent twenty minutes trying to reel him in. I only managed to closed the gap to him in the final few hundred metres of the race, and he outsprinted me at the end, but it had been something to make me motivated for one more lap.
With all of five minutes of warm down and a race against time to make it to race number two, I packed the car and sped off towards Warwick, for a brisk drive that at no point involved me doing 100mph down the M42 whilst eating pizza off the passenger seat. That would be a terribly reckless way to act just to get to a bike race on time. I made it with about 45 minute to the start. It was (mercifully) a shorter race on a shorter course, and I had time for a couple of warm up laps again, trying to copy Andy's lines through the wooded sections and hoping my legs would feel better in the race itself. The race was a very small affair with only about 30 riders taking the start across all categories, and as a result I bagged myself a spot on the front row. At the start, something I experienced something I can't recall happening to me before: I got the drop on everyone and led the field into the first corner, and through the first section of singletrack. I was relieved of this unfamiliar position before too long, as a rider shot past me up the only major climb on the course, with Andy in hot pursuit. I lost two more places on the first lap, not helped by a couple of silly mistakes - a bit of tiredness creeping in? For the rest of the race I swapped places with another rider repeatedly for 4th and 5th place; he had the edge on me in the technical sections, whereas I made time back to him on the climb. On the last lap he got away from me as far as he had all race, and like race number one I tried to close the gap, wringing out every ounce of strength this time. Once again I closed the gap only within sight of the finish, but this time I managed to win the sprint and come home in 4th place.
It was good to fit some more racing in at the end of a hard block of training. What's more I got to sharpen up my skills on the dirt after lots of racing on tarmac, and remind myself that XC racing is fun and I should do it more! Now it's time for a week of recovery, then three more weeks of training leading me straight into the cyclocross season.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)