Well, I raced today. It was better.
After having my ass handed to me in February, I decided to race in 30-39 sport. I figured, hell, I work 40 hours a week, have two kids, yard work, and a slight beer gut. If that isn't the definition of sport class, I don't know what is!
Having six weeks to ride my hardtail again and acclimate my body to the specifics of mountain bike racing helped tremendously.
I was 4th out of 16 starters:
My placing was actually decided pretty early on. I was sitting in about tenth place after a couple miles, waiting for an opening. I attacked from the back of the group of six I was in on the first pavement section so I could be first onto the singletrack climb.
I hit the climb hard, totally going anaerobic (oh how it hurt), and got a good gap. It was kind of risky, because if I blew up I would have been in trouble. But I managed to hold it until the top, crested strong, rode the downhill well, and that was all she wrote. I never saw those guys again.
I always thought attacking was kind of stupid in mountain bike racing, but I guess not. It seemed to work pretty well in that situation. At 36 years old I'm still learning new things about myself and racing.
The guy who originally won cut the course was disqualified (Pat Boyle).
Second place protested and won. If you beat second place by 13 minutes on a 20-mile course, they're probably going to take a look at that, you know? Idiot. All that for a freaking plaque? There weren't even any prizes. What's the point? You're 39 years old and cheating?
Anyway, I rode pretty strong, and felt good about my performance. I kept on the gas the whole time except for the last half mile. I made a big effort in the last few miles to close a 45-second gap to about 10 seconds, but he held me off, so I shut it down at the end and coasted in because nobody was behind me. As you can see the gap to third place went back up to 42 seconds at the finish because of it.
So close to a third-place plaque! I joke but also admit that it would have been cool to podium after all this time.
It was a good day of racing and the 20 mile course was just the right length for my life and fitness level at this time. Another lap at that speed would have hurt.
Speaking of speed, my average was 13.9 miles per hour. I only bring this up to illustrate how much racing and equipment has improved since the old days. In the mid '80s, Joe Murray was winning races averaging a mere 10 miles per hour, and at his peak he was nearly unbeatable. Crazy.
Later.
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