Race Report: 2004 TBF MTB Challenge #1

So I did a mountain bike race today for the first time in a while. The short version: It rained the whole time. It was muddy as hell. My legs cramped. It was fun. And it wasn't.

On a whim, I thought I would give a TBF race a try. I had seen them out at Granite Bay a number of times over the years. Although they seemed a bit corporate, and primarily focus on the running/triathlon side of things, I hoped they knew how to run a proper MTB race.

Knowing I was racing, I went on a short ride on my cross bike yesterday. I felt like absolute crap. I hoped that would improve on race day.

Before that could happen, though, I needed was a bike. When I built the Santa Cruz Blur last summer, I scavenged a few parts off my Litespeed. Consequently it had been sitting in a disassembled state for eight months. Knowing the forecast was for rain, I cobbled the old hardtail back together again last night. I rode it up and down the driveway a few times in the darkness, and it felt weird and uncomfortable. I hoped a solid warmup before the race would help my body refamiliarize itself with my old titanium friend.

I was flying during the cyclocross season just a few short months ago. I sat in top three in the 35+ B series for much of the year until the broken ribs ended my season. I guess I still felt fast, so I entered the expert class. This meant three 10-mile laps and 30 miles. No problem, I thought. But when I lined up with all these guys, a few of whom looked like pros, I knew I was in trouble.

After four years of cyclocross and road racing exclusively, just racing on the mountain bike again was cool. It was actually a little surreal. It has only been six years since I raced on a mountain bike, but somehow it felt like much longer as we waited for the start. I was a stranger in a strange land. As we rolled away from the line, however, I clicked into race mode and suddenly I was a mountain bike racer again.

In hindsight, I should have started more conservatively given the circumstances. These guys started fast and I simply followed suit. We hammered out the first lap at a very high pace and I felt OK, but not great. As we rolled through the start/finish, I knew I couldn't do 20 more miles at that pace, so I backed off a bit.

On the second lap, because I wasn't solely focusing on the wheel in front of me, I noticed that the course was pretty cool. I must say, they did a great job of laying it out and marking it. They utilized many of the trails I usually ride but in different ways to make a 10-mile loop. There was a fair amount of climbing, which was my undoing. Hopping on a bike you haven't used in eight months and racing just isn't smart. The climbing position was totally different. It was the climbing that gave me the cramps in my quads. They started about halfway through the second lap, and I fought them through the rest of the race.  As long as it was flat, I was cool. I even felt like I had good power at the end. Every rise, though, and my quads were screaming.

The cramping certainly made it less fun. And the endless gritty mud that crunched away on my drivetrain was annoying. Still, it felt good to be back in my element. At my core, I am still a mountain biker first.

I limped through the last lap and finished a disappointing tenth out of 11.

I am hoping a bunch of people dropped out because of the weather conditions. It certainly seemed like more than 11 guys started with my group.

My bike is going to need some love:

Much of the leather was worn off my trusty WTB SST saddle.

In closing, I discovered that I am probably not an expert-level MTB racer anymore. I should have listened to this guy:

You said it, Harry. I have to acknowledge that my son was born less than three months ago, and that really changes things. I am spending a lot of time with my little human who has already become the center of the universe. I'm likely at the very bottom of my fitness curve after being at the high point last cyclocross season. I will have have to build back up again. Or not.

For much of my life I have identified as a bike racer first. Now my focus has changed to my family, and that's for the better. Obviously. From here on out I am a husband and father who may or may not race a little on the side when time permits. And that's just fine.

As for TBF, they actually ran a pretty tight ship. No complaints.

There are more TBF races coming up. Maybe I do some. Maybe not. We'll see.

Later.

Race Report: 2003 Sacramento CX #8

What I hoped was simply some bruised ribs turned out to be much worse. A doctor friend told me that bruised ribs will get better every day while broken ribs will only get worse for about a week. I experienced the much worse scenario. Man, breaking those little bones really hurts.

After the crash last Saturday I rested for a couple days. I thought maybe I could get back out there on Tuesday. I attended our normal CX training ride with some of my Rio Strada teammates. It was a high-intensity ride that more closely resembled a mountain bike ride on CX bikes—rocks, mud, singletrack, and some steep, technical climbing. I hung tough because of my fitness right now, and my fresh legs because of the time off, but the pain was very intense. Pulling on the bars on steep climbs and running with the bike hurt like hell.

On Wednesday I was completely wrecked. It hurt to breathe, sit, walk, lie down, everything. There was no escaping the pain. That training ride was a really, really bad idea.

So I have these broken ribs. I tried to come back but could not. The last race was today and I was not there.

I really regret skipping race five now, since I have only five race results to everyone else's six. Grass Valley was a hilly course, like the ones I usually excel at. Just six points for a fifth place would have moved me up significantly.

Even so, a top 10 is cool all things considered.

Maybe next year.

Later.

Race Report: 2003 Sacramento CX #7

My race didn't go so well yesterday. I was involved in a pile-up right off the start and just couldn't continue. A guy landed on me and put his elbow right in my ribs and knocked the wind out of me.

It sucked. Still does, actually.

It was pretty much the fault of the organizers in my opinion. We were lined up for the start waiting for the whistle to go off when a couple people started moving early. That prompted about half the field to jump also. The rest of us assumed there would be a restart, but they just let them continue. Those of us who actually waited for the whistle that never came were screwed.

It really caused a panic in the field as we worked hard to pass as many people as we could up the first hill. Then came a short decent. On the next climb an idiot tried to pass by going off the trail, but then swerved back to avoid an overhanging tree branch and knocked another guy over who in turn knocked me over. That probably would have been OK, as we weren't going that fast, but then a couple more people piled into us, and one fell right on top of me elbow first. He was a really big guy.

I must say, it hurt pretty damn bad. He got me about an inch below my left nipple, and I felt my chest compress quite a bit. A couple people, including the guy who fell on me, said they heard something snap. I didn't hear it, but they may have been right because I do suspect I have a cracked rib or two.

Anyway, I rolled around on the ground for a few moments unable to breathe. No matter how many times that happens to you, each time you still wonder if you are ever going to breathe again. I did get up to continue, though, only to find my front wheel bent and my handlebars tilted down. Race over.

What sucks is if they hadn't blown the start I would have been up towards the front, or even leading like last time, which was my plan. It was such a huge advantage in race #3 to hit that first decent in front that I was determined to do it again this time. Oh well.

Today I am experiencing some uncomfortable soreness, and it hurts to take a deep breath. My breathing is clear, though, no rasping or rattling, and none of the pain is so sharp that I wince. I could go to the doctor, but even if there is a broken rib they won't do anything besides give my painkillers. 

I'll just take it easy today and watch some football.

I assume I will fall out of fourth place in the series, which is a bummer. I really felt I was going to do well yesterday during my warm-up. I had good legs. There is only one race left (in Vacaville next week). I think the best I can hope for is fifth in the series, which was the goal I set before the season started.  Still, I wanted more.

Later.

Hey, Thanks

Thanksgiving was pretty cool this year. It started off with a ride in the morning with 100 of my closest friends. This is the annual Thanksgiving Day ride, or as some call it, The Turkey Ride.

Most of these guys are racers or serious roadies. There were even a couple guys decked out in their US Postal Service kits complete with a fancy USPS car. I'd never heard of either guy, so they must be on the developmental squad or something. Anyway, we rode from the coffee shop in Fair Oaks to Rancho Murrieta and back, which was 50 miles. The roads are pretty bad out there, so you have to stay on your toes. There is always a crash, and this year was no exception.

We were riding in a double paceline, and there was a crash in the pack. Pothole. Luckily, Ron and I were representing Rio Strada and taking a huge pull on the front when it happened. We had to laugh because up until then our six Rio Strada guys had been bringing up the rear all day. We got motivated just in time.  Nobody was hurt badly, but hitting the pavement is never something to give thanks for.

When I got home, Jenn's mom Gina had already arrived with some food. We ate and visited for a while, then rested up for a bit after Gina left. Later in the evening we went to my Aunt Sue's for dessert. It was great to see everyone.

Well, it was a long day and I'm going to bed.

Later.

Race Report: 2003 Sacramento CX #6

I skipped race number five for a number of reasons. First and foremost, my son was born only two days before the race, and he played hard to get. It was a long, long labor and ultimately he had to come into this world via C-section. All is well, though.

Two, Grass Valley is quite a drive from my home. And three, we get to drop a couple races, so I thought it was no big deal to drop race five. In hindsight, just like last year, that wasn't a great decision.

Race six was again at Granite Bay. I rode a good but not great race. When it was clear I wasn't going to be a factor, I buried myself on the last road section into a fierce headwind to set up Gordon. We blasted by a couple guys on the last lap and he came off my wheel to coast in for fifth. I never recovered from that effort but managed to hold on for sixth and scored a few points for the overall.

I go way back with some of these guys. Dave Burke is a current Rio teammate, but we go back to the '80s with ABC (Anonymous Bike Club). Craig Petersen was also an ABC guy. Don Metzger rides single speeds with us old ABC guys, and he is also attending our Rio Strada training rides on cross bikes. He is strong and getting stronger each week.

Later.

Punch Drunk

I have been a father for a week. Mom and son are doing great. It's been a whirlwind of a week filled with joy, but not without a little stress and fatigue. He's a good little sleeper so far, but that doesn't mean we rest easy. I am sleeping with one eye open because of the newness of everything, and I have never slept that well in the first place. The likelihood of a saber-toothed cat attack in the night is pretty low, but that doesn't mean in the deepest primal recesses of our brains, fathers aren't always preparing for it.

I slipped out for my first mountain bike ride today as a dad, just my standard loop out at Salmon Falls. If it's possible to feel completely drained and yet super strong at the same time, today I achieved that. Dad power.

As I said, a mostly joyous week.

 

But not without a little stress.

Saber-toothed cats beware.

Later.

Race Report: 2003 Sacramento CX #4

Race number four took place at Negro Bar. This course typically uses some grass. Like sand, it seems to be tougher for the skinny guys.

This was a pretty flat course with a bit of running and I struggled with it.

Truthfully this one is a bit of a blur. My mind was definitely elsewhere (we have a baby due in a few days) and I pretty much just rode in circles and suffered.

I ended up 10th, which was good for one whole point in the standings.

Later.