Yesterday was the first round of the National Trophy at Abergavenny - here is my post race, lunchtime post mortem.
I've ridden CX for seven years now. each year with more enthusiasm than the last. In Spring 2012, I decided that I wanted to do the trophy series because I'd ridden the previous trophy rounds at Bradford and I had enjoyed them immensely. I particularly liked the more open, faster nature of the courses and the closer racing. As someone who spends 99% of his time riding alone, theres no greater buz than getting into a line of riders and getting pebbledashed with mud and snot in a cross race.
Upon arrival, I got signed on and made my fatal mistake. As a newcomer to the series, and not having ridden the Nat Champs last year, I knew that my handful of BC points were unlikely to get me on the grid in this company. Hence when I lookled at the gridding order sheets, I didn't expect to see my name.....so I didn't.
As my Pit Monkey (Heather) set about cooking breakfast, brewing up and lugging a petrol jetwash around, Paul and I went and recced the course. I'd spoken to Dan Cook previously about the course and he'd not helped really - He'd told me that there were loads of steep banks that I'd have to sprint like crazy at to get up. I don't do sprinting, my freaky long limbs are uncordinated at the best of times and milk turns faster than me. After two practice laps, the feeling of impending doom came off like a ten ton weight. I could actually ride the whole course except the uphill 40cm hurdles. I'd been dreading been the only competitor to be running up the banks, and 500miles is a long way to drive for humiliation. Despite this, boy was it slippery or what. Even with super aggressive tubs on, I was all over the place and it was a given that we'd be jetwashing my skinsuit post event.
I deliberately arrived at the start late to keep warm and was put right at the back of the 50 strong starters. Nine rows back. After a short wait we were off on the 500m tarmac section before dropping onto a section of horrible off camber. Despite my best efforts at the start, my psuedo sprint made little impression against this lot and that was that. It was just a case of trying to get back up there during the next fifty minutes. No matter how many practice laps one makes, it's never the same as the race and I found that at race speed, I couldn't capitalise on the fast sections sufficiently to mitigate my dodgy bike handling on the gloopy switchbacks. So it became a case of getting into a little group of four and taking it in turns to screw it up and swap places whilst we caught those who'd been spat out the back of the front.
There was about 50m of pure quagmire each lap, too long to run and not loose time, bad enough to seemingly add 50% to the weight of the bike each lap. Pit Monkey was brilliant with a cleanish bike every two laps helping a little. It also brightened things when an unfortunate splashback insident with a jetwash gave her instant freckles.
I crossed the line in 34th place on the same lap as the winner but in all honesty feeling like cannon fodder for the big guys. I stayed on my bike but was frustrated not to feel shattered after the finish. I know this sounds odd, but a perfect race for me is one where I've ridden on the ragged edge technically (usually with a couple of silly offs) AND I've absolutely blown myself to bits. Yesterday was a stunning course but the fast bits were too short to really exploit my engine and the technical bits meant I couldn't push myself hard enough. No moans, no complaints, I just wished I started riding years ago so lunacy becomes automatic.
Frustratingly, I learnt after the race, I'd actually had a place on the 6th rank of starting grid, but simply missed my name on the list. How stupid was I? It was so annoying as I suspect I'd have found myself a few places higher. But I live and learn.
Was I an old bloke having fun? Yes
Am I living the Sven Nys dream? Yes but no motorhome and at half the speed
Will I be back for more? You bet. Ipswich next.
I love cyclocross me.......
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