It was with great anticipation... I mean, lackluster ambivalence, that I approached entering my first cyclocross race last Saturday. It’s not that I wasn’t excited, I mean... I was, but at the same time more or less, I just wanted to get the big oooooh FIRST RACE EVER experience over with (you know, that whole thing about not being smooth on the transitions, running into barriers or other people, climbing big muddy hills, crashing, falling, getting massive amounts of gravel ingrained under your skin or picking up blood borne diseases from open wounds, etc... all those horror stories you hear) yeah... I was ready to get that part over with. So, I packed up my bike and threw it in my car along with what ever else I thought I might need and made my way to Hood River to participate in Saturday’s Double Cross Race.
First of all, I got my bike a few weeks ago, I’m riding a single speed Bianchi San Jose. I made the SS choice the other year that when/if I race cross, I’m doing it on a single speed. Don't get me wrong, it’s not because I think I’m soo bad assed I don’t need gears, it’s because I’m cheap (less parts = less cost) and lazy (less parts = less things to break & repair). As well, I figure hammering it up hills with one speed can only make me stronger in the long run and well, honestly... I’m a lousy shifter. It’s best if there are less things I have to focus on. Anyways, rather than go out and buy a brand new bike to throw around in the mud, I went with a used one that I found on the OBRA list. This bike had battled through a cross season and a half or so until an unfortunate incident where the owner/rider crashed and subsequently, broke a few of her ribs. This I think, in the bike world is the equivalent of buying a used mattress that someone died on. All that horribleness aside though, the bike was in perfect working order (aside from a flat tire) and the price was a steal... so purchase it I did.
(the battle worn San Jose)
Secondly, a few years ago I went to go watch my first cross race ever out at Alpenrose Dairy, while walking to my car to leave, a woman parked beside me asked if I wanted her husbands old SIDI cleats, otherwise, they were going to throw them away? I looked at them, they sorta fit and aside from the cleat plates being rusted through and the base flapping around a bit, but to throw them away seemed such a waste. At that point in my life I didn’t know much about bikes, but one thing I do know something about is money... and these Italian leather cycling shoes reeked of it (under a few layers of mud that is). So, I gladly took them off the lady's hand and threw them in the back of my closet, where they've sat for two years. Finally I dug them out and repaired them last month. It required several trips to several bike stores, a trip to two cobblers and a lot of gorilla glue. Aside from the shoes being a little too big and the soles needing re-gluing after every race, they work like a charm. I found a nice pair of Crank Brothers eggbeater pedals and spent a night outside in the pouring rain riding laps around my block like it was some type of urban criterium for the dismounting handicapped, all the while teaching myself how to clip and unclip them.
A few days after that I went out and took a cyclocross clinic from the kind folks at Upper Echelon fitness. The clinic was great! (Actually, I hadn’t the foggiest of any idea about anything regarding cross other than sometimes you ride your bike and then other times you carry it over things. So really, me saying the cross clinic was great isn’t really giving an honest review of it.) Thankfully a racing friend of mine, who had a cross season or so under her belt, was there and gave me more tips and tricks than the UE folks did. Thanks M! Overall, the biggest concern I had after my one clinic was my apparent failure to fully unclip properly on the left side before trying to jump over barriers. So, you can imagine this frequently resulted in me spending more time on the ground than really necessary. Oh - and note to self, when I fail, I fail hard. This means that I didn’t approach the barriers at a light, gingerly safe speed. No, I fucking attacked them... full till, race speed, balls to the wall. Which also means that when I hit the ground, I hit the ground at attacking, full till, race speed, balls to the wall. I think throughout the evening I was called “dangerous, lethal and bound to kill someone” on multiple occasions. Regardless, I left the clinic knowing that I needed to hone in my skills in a few areas (many) but I might as well enter my first race and get it over with. I reminded myself, my game plan with cross is not to take it seriously, not to get consumed by it, not to be OCD like I get in crit season, but to just enjoy riding my bike, get a little muddy and drink a little beer... all results aside. So showing up at Hood River a week or so after getting on my first cross bike, I felt like a novice all over again.
(When I told my favorite illustrator Jay Ryan that I was racing cross this year, he drew me this picture.)
However, oddly enough unlike my first road race... I wasn’t nervous.
Hell, I had a friggin huge ass party and I consumed a fair share of pints from my very own kegorator the night before, racing was merely my motivation to get up before noon. Thankfully at registration I ran into my road racing friend Karey, who would be racing her first cross race as well. She asked if I was racing Beginner or B (in cross, unlike road, you can self select the cat you want to ride in) and I informed her I would be racing Beginner, since well.... I was beginning to race cross and according to the sound advice of Maria Von Trapp, the beginning is a very good place to start. Karey, having just started riding her bike that week for the first time as well, was considering racing B. We debated back and forth and finally, against the urging of Karey’s husband, I think I persuaded her into racing Beginner with me. I am sure she would have done just fine in B, but secretly I didn’t want to be the only beginner racing in a full team kit, now at least... there were two of us.
For about 15 minutes prior to the race we got to pre-ride the course. I saw this as an excellent opportunity to make sure my brakes were behaving and a great opportunity to practice unclipping before the race actually began. Things were going excellent, I was warming up, getting ampted for this, finding the zone, and then right after going into a screeching downhill ... (literally, I could hear Karey’s bike breaks squeeling behind me) I started to pedal and all of the sudden I was going nowhere. I looked down... shit! I dropped my chain. The race hadn’t even started and already I was having mechanicals. So, I pulled off to the side of the course and yanked my chain back up onto the gear. I went to hop back on and pedal away when I realized my back wheel wasn’t moving. Turns out that somehow during that one little downhill, my back wheel got bumped forward and wedged against the, well... whatever they’re called, things that make my wheel not move. Shit.
So... here I was, race time was in eight minutes, my bike is a little dysfunctional and I am somewhere far far away from the start. This was not looking really good right now for my first cross race. I shoulder the bike and run off the course on some little path leading up a hill. Luckily, this little path took me to the football field where I then ran my bike across looking for anyone who might be able to help me out. I go to the parking lot and find people mingling about. Start time? Five minutes. I see a Sorella rider I know and run over to her. “Tonya? Perchance do you have a pedal wrench?” Luckily, she carries one with her to put together her kids bikes. So, I used the wrench to loosen the wheel and then pulled back on the wheel to tighten the tension in the chain. Apparently when I put my “mud tires” on after falling down my stairs that morning (Did I forget to mention that I fell down the stairs and landed with the edge of the handrail in my back right right? I forgot to mention that it really really hurt and afterwards I laid on the floor for five minutes before moving out of sheer pain? Whatever?) So, apparently after that I hadn’t tightened the bolts down enough in the stays and they loosened on the downhill. Lesson #1: Check your chain tension and bolt tightness before you race the SS. Thankfully, that crisis was adverted and I was able to make it to the start with enough time to look cool calm and collected (and covered with chain grease).
In no time at all, we were off and racing. Both Karey and I wished each other good luck and offered back and forth tips and advice, like we knew what we were talking about. One thing I noticed real quick, was what a cluster fuck the beginning was. I can’t blame it on being a beginner admist the pack of beginners, I just think everyone bottle necks in the beginning and you can only go as fast as the hesitant rider in front of you. That first lap seemed to take forever... a few bridges, a few barriers, a nice little run up... overall, it appeared to be something I could handle for 45 minutes. I can do this shit, I told myself... no problem. Entering into lap two, I was feeling pretty good, I was on Karey’s wheel and I knew we were somewhere towards the front of our pack. I just stay here and I’ve got a pretty good shot at doing well I kept thinking. And then it happened. AGAIN. I pedal and I go nowhere. Shit, my chain fell off again. So, I stop, pull over to the side, a slew of girls pass me as I quickly fix it and then hop back on, trying to catch up. And then shit.... it friggin happens AGAIN. I sigh... pull off the course, fix it and realize that I just lost whatever pack of the leaders I was in. I hop back on and do my best to catch up, AGAIN. I totally lost sight of Karey but there are some chicks ahead of me that I know I can pass.
This cycle pretty much continues for five laps. I am not going to be one of those people that were like OMG THAT WAS THE HARDEST THING I HAVE EVER DONE, I WANTED TO THROW UP THE WHOLE TIME.... because honestly, it wasn't the hardest thing I've ever done. And honestly, I don't even know what the hardest thing I've ever done is... but I can tell you that this wasn't it. And, don't be all like.. well, you just weren't pushing yourself hard enough... cause um... did you see me run up the those hills? If there is one thing I'm good at, it's hustling. What I will say, that that was one of the most fun bike races I've ever done. And, maybe it's because I don't ride mountain bikes that much, but I was so excited to be on dirt, dirt going uphill... dirt going downhill. There were a lot of sections that you could kinda rest and then some other sections... like the grassy muddy flats, where you really had to push it hard to try and pass people.
One thing that I found was oddly disturbing and I am sooo not used to it, was how nice everyone was, out of nowhere. And, unlike most bums in Seattle, they didn't even ask you for money after they assisted you with a problem you didn't even know you had. There were several times out on the course when I'd be gaining ground on the rider ahead of me only for them to pull off to the side saying, "you... please go ahead of me". I'd turn my head to the side and look at them with crazy eyes saying to myself... um, this is a race.... right? But, who am I to turn down a kind offer from a complete stranger to pass them? So, I obliged and as I sped away, I thanked them and wished them good luck in all their future endeavors in life. One thing that I absolutely loved about the race were all the hecklers and cheerers out on the course. I felt like I was in one of those countries like South Korea where they pay people to be fans. Never in my life have I had so many complete strangers yelling at me with such enthusiasm. My family, they will yell. My friends, they will yell.... complete strangers.... they will happily curse at me, and I love it! It was unreal. I got called crazy single speeder multiple times which I kinda liked, it was good motivation. (My roommate and some of her friends even came out and heckled me with her cowbell. And trust me, that girl is from Jersey, she will yell at you.)
I will admit, that by the third lap my legs were getting a little tired and I was honestly wondering how much longer the race was going to last. It wasn't that I couldn't do it, I just really really wanted to know how much longer I had to do it for. Once again, I like a fair amount of predictability in my races and I hadn't even noticed that apparently there was a lap board... but I'll look for that in the future. Eventually, I heard the announcer say two more laps and I knew, it was at that point I really had to try and focus and try and pass as many other people as I could. I couldn't promise miracles on the barriers or the run ups, but I knew in the flats I really had to hammer it. So, that's what I did. When it was all said and done and I finally crossed the finish line, I felt pretty good. I really had no idea how I placed, but I know I made up a little bit of ground on some of the people that passed me during my mechanicals. As well, other than dropping my chain twice, it was a pretty fun race and surprisingly enough, I didn't wipe out on my bike or crash into anyone else. When the results were posted I found myself once again, in 4th place, not too terribly far behind the leaders (Karey placed 1st). However, considering that I dropped my chain twice, had a big party and drank waay too much IPA the night before, fell down the stairs that morning, impaled my back and unknowingly at that time was suffering from the early onsets of food poisoning, I was fairly satisfied with the results.
From here, I think I might race my next race as a B. It's not that I don't like the beginners, but I don't like people giving me their line, I like fighting for it. Granted, I may come in the bottom of the bracket, but it really doesn't matter since all the beginners, all the B's, and all the Masters and the Junior women were all out on the course at the same time, it kinda turned into a cluster fuck of knowing exactly who you were racing against. I guess the biggest thing is just reminding yourself that you, and only you, are your biggest competitor, and then... um after you've convinced yourself of that, you'll need to remind yourself that you're just doing it for fun. For fun and beer.
(ps... all these great photos are from the swell folks at PDXCross. They happened to be one of the very few photographers out on the course on Saturday... apparently Sunday everybody and their mother and their bother, sister, uncle, third cousin twice removed was out there at the race. In return for me "borrowing" their photos for my blog, I promise to actually buy a print if they ever get a smokin shot of me.)
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