Farewell London League

Image courtesy londoncyclesport.com

For the 2009/2010 London Cyclocross season anyhow.

What a classic course for the send off. It was a muddy, technical treat at Herne Hill. The course included the ramps, hurdy gurdys, hurdles and mud. Lots of it.

The race itself was very sore. The slippery surface was difficult for everyone; it certainly helped me to the deck a few times. Plus it was hard racing. I was determined to beat my regular competition, and maybe get a bit higher in the order.

A lap into the race my lungs felt ready to burst, after two laps my back started to ache; and then it just got harder. With two laps to go my entire body was hurting - by the end the pain was irrelevant, all I cared about was not being passed.

Which I am proud to say I managed. I got ahead of my rivals and used my pace through the tricky outfield to put air between us. Then I knuckled down hard through the infield to maintain the gap. This was pretty much the pattern of the entire race - the only developments being increased fatigue and the bike getting heavier and heavier from gathering more mud.

I was nervous to see the results, so I was quite chuffed they were published very promptly. In the end I came 24th. Of 82 finishers.

Yeah, happy with that. Very happy.

So that wraps the 2009/10 'cross season, nearly. In two weeks we have the Team Champs, which should be a lot of fun and a nice way to end the season. Then it will be looking forward to criteriums in the road season for the summer.

Yeah, I'm really looking forward to those long evenings of Speed! Bring on Summer!

A lot of speed

The last few days have been pretty busy. Sunday was London League cyclocross at Wilmington in Kent, and then Tuesday I ran in our company running club month-end race.

The cross race was mad as usual. It wasn't too wet, but the mud was very slick and traction was very poor; with even moderate inclines being unrideable. There was also a very tricky section through the woods that was very narrow and felt more like what I'd expect of an MTB course rather than Cross.

The race itself was hard. On the first lap I was trying to think of how I could bail out but still retain my dignity. Realising that was impossible, I then started wondering how I was going to survive the next hour. And it seemed to take forever. The dismounting, running and remounting took their toll, as did the very frustrating slippy near running-on-the-spot sections up the hills. I had a few silly falls too, the "best" being riding straight into a tree on the last lap at near walking pace (I blame fatigue).

As usual, afterward it felt great. I had a fun ding-dong with a club mate, Kevin Ball and also managed to keep a few riders that I recognised from previous races at bay. I'm really enjoying this cyclocross lark - it is just such a pity that the season is so short.

Then to running; my new commute means that it simply is not fiscally possible for me to take the train (and so include a ride in my commute), so I've returned to running to try to keep fast and in shape. My first run was last week, and frankly I battled and was broken afterward. I really wasn't expecting much for the lunch time race.

The organiser, Zoe, stuck me into the fastest group despite my protestations. I really thought she was having a laugh and roundly expected to be the slowest of the group and jog into the finish dead last (it is run on a handicap, so the slowest runners would be well down the road before the fast group starts).

So after lots of waiting we set off. I start gingerly (for the first 20m or so), then realise I feel pretty good, so ratchet up the pace. Probably a bit too quickly because up the long hill to the park I'm starting to feel it. Into the park I'm staying with the leading group (bar one) of fast runners, but hurting already - only about 1.5km in! Then I notice my shoe lace is loose. PREPARATION! I have to stop to tie it up and so immediately loose touch with the group.

I try to close the gap after that but they pull away steadily. I keep up a good pace but am really hurting. I wind up the pace on the way in, purely out of pride and not wanting to be overtaken; I manage to be passed only by the fastest runner (Ian Mc' for those who've followed this blog for a while) who gave himself a further, self imposed handicap of a few minutes! My time is a smidge over 25 mins. Not too bad, but I do have quite a bit of work to do.

I was broken totally by the run, and had to drag myself to the local Tesco to grab a For Goodness Shakes (my new favourite). It helped a bit but honestly I was too stuffed to be useful to anyone.

A day later I am still sore. My legs from the run, but my shoulders and core still have traces of tightness from the Cross race. All good stuff. And to be repeated this weekend with another Cross race at Herne Hill.

Rock on!

Sloppy Herne Hill

On my first (recce) lap of the circuit I realised that the 'cross races so far were just a taster of the real thing.

I was a little nervous this morning; it has been a long time since I'd raced; I'd been kept off the bike first by a bruised hand from a fall on icy, moss-covered paving in early-Jan and then from a battle with a nasty cold that ended up taking out pretty much most of the family that was staying over. The good news is that I didn't get the customary chest infection, so my asthma meds are doing the trick!

Back to today - it was very cold (around 2°C), but sunny. Rain and snow from previous days had made the ground well soaked and bit of the course I could see looked pretty squishy indeed. There had also been a New Years Day madison event on two days before, so the circuit was quite cut up. I'd arrived with good time, so I was able to sign on and get my kit sorted without a rush before heading out for an easy recce; this is very important for me.

The mud was very slippery indeed, and some off camber sections needed good line picking, but also solid pedaling to get through. Some of the faster corners were a little daunting, but later proved a treat (provided the bike was set-up nicely into the corner). A bit of ice, and frozen, furrowed mud was quite scary and, after very nearly stacking it on the recce, I decided it was best avoided. What struck me most about the course was the crazy climbs and near drop-offs and the number of obstacles that demanded a dismount. The bits through the trees also offered up many technical challenges that initially made me feel completely inept.

So I felt pretty daunted as I took up my place on the start line. Soon enough the whistle went and it was the usual charge to the first corner. I wasn't feeling that strong, so I didn't go all out, but I found myself around some familiar faces to I guess it must have been a reasonable start. The first foray into the tricky wooded section was crazy; I found myself getting into all sorts of trouble by making the same mistake that I had previously made in the cockpit of my Class C Fiat - following the guy in front, and in so doing effectively having him ride my bike. I forced myself to focus on the trail, looking past the rider ahead and picking my own line.

Into the second lap it was feeling a lot easier and into the third riding in the mud felt like second nature. I found that, in the group I was in (roughly 6-7 riders), I was being held up quite a bit through the technical wooded section, but onto the flatter open stadium section I was losing ground - my lack of fitness from the time off the bike telling. But the problem was, sitting at the back of the group I was being held up where I had the advantage, then burning up through the infield to stay in touch. Time to make a move then. With a few bold moves, including an outbrake into a steep downhill, I got ahead. I had to work hard though, so into the infield I felt like puking and was repassed.

Next lap our group was split by a fall and I attacked to try to get a bigger advantage. It almost worked, and I left the infield section only having conceded a place or two to the group. On the next lap, I made my move. I charged hard up the the steep climb, with the bike on my shoulder I sprinted as hard as I could up the muddy slope and did my best impression of a running remount (which, I must admit, needs a lot of work). Apart from a few metres gap, crucially I'd got "track position" on the group with a fair proportion of the twisty wooded section to go. I rode it as hard as I could, even came off once (but managed to save it with a quick remount). Then, into the infield I tucked down and rode as hard as I could. It paid off. Coming out of the stadium exit corner, I saw the group still a distance from the corner. Spot on.

The rest of the race was a fight against fatigue and the lack of a rear brake. Not sure what happened (my guess at the moment is a cable that I hadn't tightened properly), but my rear brake stopped working in the second lap which left me with only the front - quite a liability, especially with all the sharp corners at the bottom of descents. As I became more tired, mistakes crept in and I would lose my advantage through the woods.

So the 2 laps go couldn't come soon enough. The pace started to escalate, and I knew the riders behind would be chasing. Summoning up all the energy I could, I tried to ride as neatly as I could, only to tumble over the bars on a descent. I needed to stay calm and keep it smooth, but it was difficult. I was also starting to encounter a few back-markers which made things even trickier. I couldn't afford to lose time through the twisty sections but this was exactly where passing was difficult. Fortunately the etiquette of most riders was exemplary and it was generally easy to find a way through as long as you weren't too impatient.

Heading through the stadium section for the last time I took a peek back and saw mostly empty track. One of the riders from the pack, a Mosquito rider, had caught and repassed me on the last lap but I'd managed to hold off the remainder. Still, no time for taking it easy. Big ring all the way to the finish (well, almost).

Not sure where I finished, but I had an absolute ball. The bike was caked in mud and felt a good 2kg heavier after the race, crazy.

So, I think now I get 'cross. Fact: It is the most fun you can have on a bike.

Crossing into Autumn

Photo courtesy londoncyclesport.com

Sunday was a beautiful autumnal day. Too warm and sunny to be autumn proper, but with that light crispness in the air that hints at the seasons changing. Having a terrible sense for judging temperature, I'd packed all my cold weather gear but as I was getting ready to roll out onto the course, I realised that normal summer fare would do.

After a bit of confusion while on a recce of the circuit, and even more at the start, I felt myself "blipping the throttle" at the line waiting for the Go! As soon as we were off I gave it horns to get to the front of the field; from my limited cross experience I know that working your way through the field can be difficult and burns a lot of energy. There was a lot of room running to the first real corner so I was able to make up a lot of ground blasting down the left and keeping a lot of momentum onto the little grassy climb.

From there it was a blur. I got stuck in with a charging group that felt a little too fast for me and I started to worry that if I put the effort in I may burn out later; even with the benefit of hindsight I have no idea if this was a good idea or not. I did pass one of the group a bit later, and he was completely spent, so perhaps I did make the right call.

After being dropped from the fast group I found myself in an oddly quiet no-mans land. No-one behind me to stay away from, and the group ahead having pulled enough of a gap not to always be in sight. Later in the race I started reeling in the riders ahead of me but, given how the field was strung out, it was difficult to work out which were for position and which were simply backmarkers.

But it didn't matter, I kept at chasing the rider ahead, chipping away and getting past. It was hurting and all I could think of was breathing, putting the front wheel in the right place and choosing the right gear. No counting laps, watching the group or thinking of strategy.

At one point I came across the same Kuota rider I'd battled with at the Gunpowder Park race, and I was reeling him in steadily. I passed him, and I guess there must have been recognition, because he responded by turning up the wick and making his way past again. I was hurting but there was no way I was rolling over - it was a simple decision; I dug deep and wound up the pace. I was determined to break him. I was determined to make sure he knew I would beat him. A solid gap opened up and soon I was watching him heading into the hairpins I was charging out of. It was the last I saw of him.

Reflecting on this has made me realise something about cyclocross. It is a very simple sport. You have to mark your goal decide you can achieve it. Mishaps and equipment failure aside, the guy in front is stronger and the guy behind is weaker. There is no further complication. For sure the strength is not only physical, but certainly a combination of physical and mental strength, but it is about strength. It is also very lonely. It is pure.

I don't think I let up from there - I pulled away from that group and, with the 3 lap board out, settled into chipping away at the gap to a Mosquito rider ahead. The gap was simply too great for me, and I couldn't make up the ground, but I still felt great. I hadn't been lapped and I felt I'd done myself proud.

The full results have not yet been posted, but I'm expecting I did get a pretty decent result. This coming weekend is the Halloween Cross at Herne Hill, and I'm nursing myself back to full strength to make sure I can race it hard. It will be interesting!

Rocketing at Gunpowder Park

Image by John Mullineaux
londoncyclesport.com

We left in good time to get up to Gunpower Park in Waltham Abbey for Round 3 of the London Cross League. It started going pear shaped when I lost my way on the route I'd chosen. No problem, I had a backup route... Which was all well and good until our progress was halted by a police road closure. Cue 45 mins of confusion and traffic hell through parts of North London that I won't mind not having to pass through again.

Of course, all this meant arriving at the race very late. I signed on at 12:59 by my watch, and was rolling onto the grassy field, about 150m away from the start just as the tail end of the field was easing out of the start area.

I tried to stay as calm as I could, but it was difficult. If I wanted to be vaguely competitive I'd have put in a lot of effort to get myself back into contention. Writing this now, I can see parallels between this and Warwick a month or so back, but at the time all I could think was getting through the field as quickly as possible.

As you'd imagine, I made up a bunch of places very quickly, but then my progress slowed and I found each pass was a lot more effort. One rider made me chuckle, in a good way; I was passing a girl on the run up to the technical bit at the far side of the course. Heading to the corner, she wasn't going to give me an inch. With each pedal stroke she accelerated, forcing me to push harder to get by. We were all but sprinting as the corner loomed. I'd pulled barely ahead of her going into the corner, but she made me work hard for it!

From there on, I had a few spats, including an ongoing battle with a dude on a Kuota Kross. We passed and re-passed each other a few times, and during the last few laps, he pulled a small lead. At the 3 lap board I turned up the wick and started reeling him in. We charged through the last lap, but on the run to the line I took him, and another two riders ahead.

All in all a really great experience. The bike was 100%, and all the small adjustments I made after the last outing paid dividends. Despite the circuit being insanely bumpy in places, I could trust leaving the chain on the little ring when I needed to. My arms took a big beating, but the sheer intensity of it is something very new - there really is nowhere to hide. It is much like XC running, but on a bike.

I'm hooked.

ps. Thanks to London Phoenix for hosting this event.

Eating dust at Deers Leap

Cross is a very strange, but oddly natural undertaking. It reminds me so much of my childhood - trying to ride bikes over crazy terrain, sometimes at unfeasible speeds.

The conditions were perfect; it was a lovely, warm, sunny day. We arrived nice and early which gave me a great opportunity to calmly get the bike together and suss things out.

Just as I was about to head out for a familiarisation lap, I met a fellow Dulwich rider, Kevin, who gave me tips. We rode around together for a lap, realised we still had a little time, so went out for a second. I was getting the hang of it, and starting to feel very confident when very suddenly I felt that all to familiar sensation through the bars. The front tyre was flat.

It wasn't hard to find the cause, a great big fat thorn was stuck through sidewall. Fiddlesticks!

There was less than 5 minutes to go before the start of the race and I was headed up to the car to pack and feel sorry for myself when I spotted Alex, or Mark as I thought his name was. Alex, another Dulwich Paragon, had arrived late and was feverishly trying to get his number on. We had a case of broken telephone, first with me trying to call him Mark, and then trying to explain my predicament coherently. He offered me a spare wheel to use (for which I was extremely grateful) - all I had to do was run up to the car park, locate his car, grab the wheel, then run back down and get it on my bike.

After a mad sprint (on foot, from which I am still a little stiff), I got back to the start with Alex's wheel and just enough time to fit the wheel and get my breath back before the actual start.

It was like rush hour, loads of riders trying to squeeze through the narrow trail. Early on, probably from too much adrenaline, I crashed into another rider; no harm done, but I did feel like a twerp! A few spurts saw me clear the mess and for the last half of the lap I was in a nice zone of clear track and gaining on those ahead.

Into the last tricky bit I was just lining up to take a smooth line when suddenly the seat gave way. On getting off, I discovered that the seat post had snapped clean off. Fruitcake!

There was no point in even throwing a tantrum, but it was absolutely gutting. Another race where I didn't even complete the first lap! A silly technical failure - one that, with 20:20 hindsight, could have been avoided - but silly nonetheless

Fortunately the London Cyclocross League continues with Round 3 this weekend, so I have a chance to make amends. The weather outlook looks good.

Rock on.