Showing posts with label Cyclocross Crash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cyclocross Crash. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

UTCX# 8 - I Am Not a State Champion

This year's Utah State Championship race was held on the Mount Ogden Golf course. Most of us were expecting a pretty easy affair mellow climbs over small grassy hills. This is not what we got. I don't normally whine (at least I think I don't and if you think I do please keep your comments to yourself I don't want to hear them and I won't believe them anyway), but I'm going to do some whining to start off today's blog; deal with it.

To start things off, somewhere during my warm-up half of my pedal broke off. I was still able to clip in, but things were pretty loose and I didn't know how long the rest would stay together. I pointed this out to Josh as we were getting to the start line. He happened to have an extra pair of pedals so we rushed to his truck, threw them and on and got back to the line with a minute to spare. Thanks Josh! I've been fighting a cold all week and read a couple of weeks ago that medical science has proven that a cold doesn't affect athletic performance, that is crap. I haven't felt this tired, sluggish and lacking in strength since my first 'cross race 2 years ago. I warmed up on the trainer and felt ok. Then I hit the course and, climbing the enormous hill with extreme difficulty. I didn't realize how big and long it was until later when I was taking pictures and realized what seemed pretty flat in the race and warm-up was not flat at all. It starts with some single-track that's not too bad. Then a semi-tricky steep muddy 3 foot section up to the paved cart path. The path then climbed, and climbed, then climbed some more, up to a 120 degree turn up a fairly steep grassy hill. It was during this first climb of the first lap that I honestly wondered if I could finish the race. I had absolutely nothing in the tank, my legs hurt and had no strength. I literally used my easiest gear on every hill, no matter how small or easy, and still struggled at an unbelievably slow pace.

Up to this point I kept feeling like my rear wheel was a bit wonky. It seemed to hit my brake pads now and then and feel a bit wobbly here and there. I hadn't noticed anything when I put the wheel on or glued the tire on earlier that week. It was at the top of this first grassy hill that I finally stopped to see what, if anything, was the problem. I grabbed the wheel and quickly realized that the bearings in my hubs were loose. Just as I realized the problem, and with the other half of the pack now passing me, some guy said "looks like your cones are loose dude." Yeah, no kidding. I loosened the quick release and hand tightened the hub as much as I could then cranked down the quick release to see if that would hold. Amazingly it did the trick. I have the honest that for a moment this seemed like a problem that was heaven sent, here is the mechanical I needed to honorably bow out of the race. But I had too much pride now so I got back on it and started pedaling. It had now been a couple of minutes, enough time for me to be the absolute last person in the pack. In fact, the pack was nowhere to be seen. I started pedaling by myself still wondering if I made the right choice to keep racing. After a couple of minutes I caught up to Wes riding his mountain bike. Wes had told me earlier that he wasn't racing two races today, he was riding one and racing one. So I decided to just follow along with Wes and just ride for a while instead of race, besides it was nice to have a friendly face to ride with for a while.

I had heard the announcers telling the riders coming through that they had 3 laps to go. When Wes and I rode through they told us 2 laps. Either they made a mistake, or as Wes said, "They're probably just accounting for us getting lapped soon." After a while I found a little more energy and left Wes behind and started cruising a bit. I was starting to feel a little better, maybe catching my 2nd wind. I came down a hill with a turn near the bottom. This particular corner was kind of tricky. It had a couple of smaller hills, forcing you to either take your chances with a tight, and probably slick inside route, the more obvious middle line placed you on the steep side of a small hill in the middle of the corner, or you could take it really wide and avoid most of the problems. I was running a pretty low tire pressure, really low actually since we were riding on bumpy grass it seemed the best choice, so I was feeling pretty confident in my traction and took the corner a little faster than before. My rear wheel slid right out from under me sending me and the bike sliding down the hill, much to the delight of the spectators watching there. My bike and I were no worse for wear so I got back on and started riding. The rest of the lap went fairly well, mostly downhill from here so I was able to get some speed and recover a bit.

I forgot to mention(here's another excuse) that my rear derailleur wasn't working correctly. It seemed to work just fine in the warm-up but as soon as the race started and we hit the first hill I nearly dropped my chain into my spokes, I caught in time and pedaled backwards to get it back on the cassette. From there on out, every time I shifted into my larges(easiest) cog in the back I either dropped the chain into the spokes or I felt it start to go that direction and quickly shifted. As I mentioned before, I used that gear a lot, every hill. So, every time a slight incline appeared I had to gingerly shift to that gear and look to make sure everything was secure and inline. Not being able to confidently shift really takes its toll. You can't just shift and climb up a hill. I had to look to see where I was on the cassette, pedal softly while shifting, making sure everything went where it was supposed to then I could put some pressure on the pedals; what a pain.

Just as I was about to finish lap 3 I hear the announcers say the leaders were coming through for their final (4th) lap. I could either let up and get passed, thus ending the torture or keep pedaling and do a final lap for no other reason than personal honor. I chose the latter and kept riding. I ended up passing a couple more riders, one of which had his bike upside-down fixing his wheel. I managed a 36th out of 42 riders. The worst showing I've had since my first race 2 1/2 years ago. So much for improving. Quite frankly the only reason I care is because the physical exhaustion hurt so much, I really couldn't care less about what place I finished.

This Saturday is Clammy Cross www.clammycross.blogspot.com I won't be attending, but you should.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

UTCX #7 - Back to Draper, Back to Puking.


The weather in Northern Utah has been fantastic this week. A warm high pressure system has kept the winds and cold at bay. The race today was fairly warm around 55F. Though the high pressure system is moving so it was pretty windy at times; enough that it felt like I was always riding against the wind. I don't typically fare well on the course in Draper, either a mechanical slows me down or the darn hill that we're forced to ride at the start as well as an extra time to finish kills my legs and lungs (and spirit). I managed to get in a great warm-up on the trainer to start and pre-rode the course. Everything was exactly the same as the previous few races there so no surprises, except a little sand on a downhill, but an outside line avoiding most of the sand became apparent so the sand didn't seem to slow down many of the riders.
I got to the start line early so I could have a first row start. We got the go ahead and sprinted up the hill; I wasn't about to repeat the mistake I made last time by getting stuck behind everyone. My teammates Josh and Ryan had the same idea. We flew up the hill with the leaders then, almost on cue, all three of us blew up and slowed way down, swallowed up by a dozen other racers just as we crested the hill. Luckily a downhill section wasn't too far away so we pushed on. The recovery was nice, but not nearly long enough. Through the horse corral, which thankfully had been soaked and packed down, then up the steep climb. I got to the single-track without too much exhaustion and was happy to be near other riders going about my same speed, not slowed down like last time.
The rest of the laps seemed to tick off very slowly; 5 in all. In the middle of the last lap I had to suddenly pull over and throw up. I've thrown up before after a race, but never during. It wasn't pleasant, and was probably the loudest I've ever thrown up; seriously just yelling as it came up. I got done and felt much better so I got back on it, but not before 10 other riders blew past me; crap. Just as I was heading down the last bit of singletrack before the final climb I saw Josh on the side of the trail trying to inflate his rear tire. Josh has even worse luck on this course than I do. I finished the race without incident and took a seat.
When I checked the results I came in 32 of 40, not very good, but if you figure I lost 10 places from throwing up and Josh says the top 10 are all sandbaggers I really finished in 12th place. If you round down I made top 10. There it is, with the puking handicap I managed a top 10 finish! If only the scoring judges saw it that way.
I didn't get any photos of the crime scene where I violently crashed and ripped a hole in my tubular tire last time, so here for your enjoyment are some photos and captions.

Here is from the bottom of the hill looking up. Notice the rider showing the proper line down the trail and not the out of control direction I ended up taking (I later found out that a loose brake cable was at least partially to blame for this mishap, hard to controls speed when your brakes aren't working). Click on the pictures to enlarge better read the captions.
And now a shot from the top, to demonstrate the view I had as I blazed through the weeds, rocks and stumps to my final landing place.