“The National Champs”, say it fast enough and it sounds like just another race. Much like the national 25 time trial, it’s one of those races that most of the big hitters for the discipline will ride...as it’s an opportunity to work out exactly where they fit into the pecking order. But just like ‘the 25’, there’s always any number of us local riders who’ll want to ride to be part of it. So after a road season that started in back in February, that morphed into a full cross season, it’s been kind of hard to get really super motivated for the last two races after Christmas. But sometimes the races where I’ve have a bad case of CBA end up being manic battles.
We turned up at Bradford for the vets champs with the prospect of riding a notoriously technical course, as last race of the day. With a field of 108, including some of the most experienced at the discipline, I’d decided that the odds were heavily against me so I employed my usual coping mechanism. That is to tell myself to just enjoy it, ride my own race and shut everyone else out. Common sense told me that in practice I’d be fine, Que sera sera..... Unfortunately, nobody delivered the same briefing to my alimentary canal. Damn you nerves. So after riding a couple of half hearted laps, I knew what to expect. An almighty shoeing. The Performance Improvement Technicians were in situ, everything was in place and there I was, with Paul in the van with the heater belting out thinking about going home with twenty mins to go, with dodgy guts...
After a brisk ride up to the gridding pens, it was no going back. My modest performances this season didn’t cut the mustard here. Right in the middle, of the middle rank. Paul and Ted, behind. Pre race briefing done, stripped off. Some good encouraging shouts from he left (was that you Nick M?) and then BANG. We were off. Wind it up, smash it up a few gears, wind it some more. Then chaos ensued.....all I remember was a rear derailleur being at my eye level and seeing someone going over the bars. Somehow I managed to avoid it but in so doing I rode through the tape onto the grass and with others sent the spectators scattering for cover on the left. After a couple of half hearted turns of the pedals, it was back to it.
It’s normally at this point that one could almost hear David Saunders dead pan narrative from A Sunday in Hell “a more comprehensive sorting out is now the order of the day....” as we went through the fast part of the course two abreast going as fast as I dare and my skinny legs will permit. As the race settled down and my breathing became hysterical, I found myself slowly catching Jonathan Watson. He’s a Bradford lad, and didn’t I know it? He must have bussed his supporters in en masse. Jon’s a great cross rider...much better than me and well known for starting really fast. So I decided to ride a lap, watch him ride and then work out what to do.
I know what I’ll do, I’ll hang on for grim death as he winds up the pace until I blow up. That’s what I’ll do.......... I lasted two and a half laps and went through the pits in 37th on one lap, but I’d blown now. By the time I took the bell he’d dropped me and was busy conducting a rout of the field.
On my own, I really struggled without having company to drive me hard through the technical bits and I became easy prey for a decent quality group of five who I know from the Trophy races. And that was that, with half a lap to go, I heard Nick Craig go through the finish and I found myself with two other guys for company. Knowing that I was in forty-something place in the forty something race, which was my last race, the foot came off the gas and we soft pedalled through the finish chatting. I finished 44th overall and bolted straight for the warmth of the van. A rather lacklustre performance, probably half a dozen places wide of my best, but a safe race, and no injuries to manage through the next couple of months before it all starts again.
As for Paul, he had awful luck. Gridded at the back, held up by the crash and then a technical issue on the first lap which meant he only could use one gear. I don't think events could have panned out worse on the first lap. Paul has massive power and speed, in different conditions he could and would have recovered from these setbacks but Bradford is unforgiving with heavy, sloggy conditions.
Ever cheerful Ted, had a good race and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the sense of occasion. I don't know if he's noticed but he's looking increasingly lean and mean. With his perfect Belgian technique and passion for the sport, we'll all be in trouble before long.
I’d particularly like to thank all the people who gave me a shout. I felt to have real support on the course and it made a tangible difference, especially on the penultimate lap when I'd blown up badly. Thank You!
So into 2013, what have I taken from this cross season?
2012/13 has been a big deal for me. I’ve made a distinct transition from time trialling around cross races on a CX bike, to a situation where I ride them more like road races. This isn’t because I’m good tactician, I’m not. It’s because I’ve just become a hint more relaxed. I’ve also immensely enjoyed riding a full and comparatively serious cross season. In terms of performance, my progress has been very steady, but none the less, I’m slowly getting the hang. I’m not one for minutiae or silly detail, but I have almost certainly moved up about 20 places at this level.
I’m very much at the point now where my technical skills when off the bike are the single biggest limiting barrier as burying myself attempting to regain time lost through hurdles etc is what causes me to blow up when riding with the guys who are that bit better.
So I hope those who’ve been patient enough to read my lengthy posts have enjoyed them. And if there’s any of you who fancy a go at cross in 2013/14, at whatever level – you only need to ask and I’ll help you as much as I can.
A final word needs to be made about our support. Whilst having Heather & Carolyn looking after us makes only a small difference at some races, at some races it makes a huge difference. At Ipswich when it was 4degC and raining torrentially, the girls litterally had to do everything for us in awful conditions as the cold and wet was so incapacitating post race. Thank you girls.
A final, final word goes to the big guy upstairs. Somehow he managed to keep me on my bike, without crashing through 18 events!
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