Two Wheel Blogs

What a day. What a season. Before this fall (now winter), I had never seen a cyclocross race, much less ridden in one. Today, I rode in my fourth -- and my final race for this season.

It was cold. Really cold. I had put the together the best combination of cold-weather gear I could come up with, but the wind told me it wasn't going to be enough. I wore my winter jacket as I did two warmup laps around the course, but it was much too heavy to race in. I was kicking myself for not bringing a wind barrier, then I remembered I usually keep an old windbreaker in my trunk. Fortunately, it was there, so I pinned my number on its side, put it on, and headed to the Starting line. When the rider next to me removed his jacket, I saw he was wearing only a jersey -- no sleeves. "Man, that's hard core," I told him. "I just don't have any cold-weather gear," he explained. "Still," I assured him, "that's hard core."

I got off to a good start, and was able to get out ahead of some riders. A sharp right turn led to a nasty off-camber mud patch, so we all rode pretty gingerly through the slop. Once clear of that obstacle, the pace picked up, and the pack spread out. While I was not up with the leaders, I could see a line of riders ahead of me. My goal was to pick off anyone I could reach.

The course was great. By "great," I mean a twisting and turning ribbon of slop. Making riding more challenging was the fact that there were very few smooth stretches. The courses at Bellefontaine and Hermann had been in parks, so most of the race surface was fairly level grass. At Concordia, the ground was really rough and uneven, with a lot of bumps and divots. As a result, we were always working. There were only a couple of short stretches where we could ease up and recover.

I went out hard the first lap. I had no idea what position I was in, but I didn't want anyone overtaking me. So I pushed myself to keep my pace up. I had one mishap at a hairpin turn, but I was quickly back up on the bike and riding. It did not cost me, but it did serve as a valuable reminder: stay upright! As I crossed Start/Finish, I could feel the toll the hard first lap had taken. Still, I kept pushing as there were riders in reach, and I wanted to pass them. I road carefully but with purpose, and I was able to put both of them behind me in the second lap.

After that, my position is the race was pretty much fixed. I could see the rider immediately ahead of me (riding a Bianchi), and I wanted to try to chase him down, but I was spent. The third lap and everything after it were brtual. After the third lap, I think, as I passed Start/Finish, I heard them say "Three laps to go." "Great," I thought, "only three more." I felt exhausted, but I figured I had enough to defend my position for three more laps. So I slugged through that lap, crossed Start/Finish, and was greeted by "Only three more laps to go." "What the---?!" I exclaimed. (I wanted to say complete the thought, but I remembered I was on the grounds of a seminary, so I exercised restraint.) They had miscounted the laps. Oh well... It didn't matter how many laps were left. I was going to ride all of them anyway. But I was ready for the race to be over sooner than later.

The last three laps: brutal. As with all races, with each lap, the condition of the course gets worse. I was really glad to be riding in the first race. By the time of the A race, that thing was going to be a mess. Not that it matters to A-level riders. For me, the worst part of the course was the stretch that ran parallel to Big Bend. It was a long, slow, muddy climb. At this point in the race, my legs were dead, and I had all I could do to keep moving on semi-level ground. Trying to grind my way up that icy, muddly slant took all I had. As I crossed Start/Finish on the bell lap, I had one thought: get past the Big Bend stretch. If I could do that, I'd be home free. And then I could stop. So I kept pushing.

Helping me today were my wife, Diane, and son, Devon, whom I had coaxed into coming over to see me race. (I bribed them with the promise of a post-race lunch at Dewey's Pizza in University City.) As bad as I felt, it was good to have my family there. I fought my way around the course one more time, finally climbing the steps of the house where Pfoodman was serving up free grub (thanks, Ralph!), then up a little bump, around a curve, and across the Finish line. I was spent, but it was a good spent.

As I was recovering, Mike Dawson came up to say hello. I've seen Mike's race pictures, exchanged emails with him, and even heard him cheer me on from the sidelines, but we'd not met before. It was good to meet him. It was also good to see Mark Ewers again. He was their (looking very warm in his Carhart insulated coveralls) to help out. After that, we racked the bike and headed to Dewey's for the promised lunch. It was delicious -- especially as it was accompanied by a Bell's Two-Hearted Ale. (I'd not had Bell's before last Sunday. I like it.)

Thanks to small field of racers (only 26) I achieved my first Top 10 finish: I finished 10th.

So that wraps up my first season as a cyclocross racer. Four races, a lot of pain, quite a few spills, but a lot of fun. This afternoon, I checked out some serious cold-weather gear at The Cyclery. I've never ridden in December before. If I'm going to do so, I need to gear up.

The 2010 season begins Saturday the 18th with Hermann Under The Lights. I plan to be there. I'm looking forward to it.