ride joe ride

(part 1 is here)

6 a.m. came somewhat earlier than I would have liked. Soon Devon and Aspen came by and we were on our way to DeKalb. Day 2 of the trip, mildly hung-over and on to the next course. Now it was beginning to feel like an epic weekend. We got to the park and quickly headed out for a reconnisance lap. The course was gorgeous — easily my favorite so far. It was fairly long, with a nice technical section full of hidden roots to slip on, a big run-up which reversed on itself for a really wicked off camber downhill (much carnage on that later in the day, though I managed to escape it with only a fall on this practice lap). Then it dropped down onto a paved walking path for a speedy section, and into an uphill stretch in some thick, deep grass and a single barrier. Throughout the day, the uphill grass section into the barrier would leave me totally tapped and slowing down each time I went through. A bit of single track, some tricky corners, and back to the finish. Simply awesome.

Somehow, I found myself signing in for the first race of the day: Masters 30+. These guys are exceptionally fast, but I decided that it would make a good warm up and hangover shaker. I was right on both counts. When a guy on the front row of the start waved me up to an open spot, I smiled and said “that’s not part of my game plan.” Ha, that was the truth. The start was wicked fast. Fast fast fast. I was soon sitting by myself in (what I thought was) DFL. After the first lap, this yielded a kind of detachment from the race that was exceptionally instructive. Freed of the simple desire to push as hard as possible, I began to realize that I was actually moving through the technical sections of the course faster when I was going at a significantly reduced effort. Without redline haze, I was able to pick better lines, stay off the brakes, and come into the power sections with much more spring. I decided I needed to apply this later in the day in the 4b race. I did manage to go down three times including my first experience with hitting the deck directly in front of someone. There is nothing quite like looking over your shoulder to see a wheel coming at your face. Thanks for not running me over man.  I was shocked to find out that I was not last when I pulled in. 16th out of 23, and lots learned. I actually liked the pacing of the 45 minute race and will probably ride the 30+ races again.

After finishing, I found Allison and tried to simultaneously help her work up her courage to race while also tending to myself. Thanks to both Aspen and Devon for once again shoring up a person’s willingness to jump into cross. Meanwhile, the weather went south as the women’s 4s lined up. Heavy rain began to come down in sheets treating us to a very Belgian cross course. As Al raced, I met up with Steve and his dad, and attempted to repair the “warm up” damage of my first race. A little kringle, some cheese curds, a whole lot of coffee, and I began to feel okay again. Meanwhile, Al was doing a great job of making it through her first race with exceptionally little preparation. In her words post-finish: “I threw up, I crashed, and it hurt like hell. That was awesome!” Can there be a more ringing endorsement for a sport?

Before long it was time to line up again for the 4b race. Instead of taking a practice lap as the official suggested (I’d been around the course enough) I took a bathroom break and was rewarded with the chance to pick which side of the front line I wanted to start from. Once again, no excuses in this race. Though nobody backs me up on this, I actually let out an involuntary attack scream as we went off the line that caused the dude next to me to swerve a bit. I was third or so into the “hole” which in this case was a hairpin turn and resulted in some contact with guy next to me (sorry about the elbow mountain bike guy).

On to the first lap. I was tired as hell, but I had the advantage of having lapped the course seven or eight times. As happened the day before, over the first lap I slowly sank from near the front coming into the hole to 15th or so by the end of the first lap. Also like the day before, I found myself spending lots of time following a guy. At one point, Aspen yelled “pass him!” from the sideline, and somehow the suggestion stuck: I pulled around him coming into the fast barrier and spent some time moving up. This seemed like vastly more work than simply trying to hang on to him, though, and he soon made his way back around me. By the end of the race, I was barely hanging with him and found myself having to push to keep from losing contact. This is seriously something I have to work on: from what I have learned so far, moving up in the cross field means being able to willingly force yourself back into suffering after moments of reduced stress (technical sections, catching someone’s wheel etc). The adage is that “cross is all about the transitions” and this is exactly what I think it’s referring to.

I managed to hold off another couple of guys in the last bit (muttering “no crashes, no crashes”) and pulled across the line in 16th out of 40-some just as the sun was beginning to break through. My fourth race was in the bag. I was exhausted and utterly content. I finished somewhat stronger than last week over the whole weekend,  I think I learned a great deal, and (most importantly) I got to spend a couple of days enjoying the combination of cross and friends. In summary: a really epic weekend.