Cyclocross racing--is it bike racing?

I'm about as hard core roadie as you can get. My mtn. bike sits in a dusty corner of our basement, terribly neglected and almost 13 years old. However, this is the time of year that I start thinking about cyclocross, and devoting myself toward its pursuit.

I really enjoy it tremendously. I especially enjoy Butthead's cyclocross practices on Tuesday afternoons--in some ways these are my favorite rides of the year. But I often wonder to myself, cyclocross-is it really racing?

My formative years were spent studying Eddie B's book: Bicycle Road Racing. Although many sections of this book are hopelessly outdated, the tactics section is still superb. And, when reading this section it becomes obvious to me that the grand sweep of racing--tactics, echelons, 60 mph descending, peletons, pile-ups, race caravans, etc, really just doesn't apply to cyclocross (or mountain biking racing for that matter).

Does this take away from the allure of cyclocross? No. I like how safe it is--in many ways this is one of its great appeals. But, I ask again--is cyclocross racing really bike racing? How is bike racing truly defined?

I gave it a shot

I again undeleted this blog.

Back in October of last year, I decided, almost rather on a whim, that I'd try to race on the road in 2009. Lots of great things happened culminating from this decision: I lost over 25 pounds in my bid for fitness, I rode stronger than I had since 2000, and I had some fun training. But, in all honesty, I didn't have that much fun at all racing. Of the 4 races I did, 3 of them were complete busts. I often dreaded the thought of racing the night before. It was a huge stress factor in my life.

But there is also this--bike racing has become incredibly, almost unreachably, expensive for someone like me. Fundamentally, that is the starkest change in the sport, even compared to the last year I raced seriously, which was, arguably, in 2000. It's not a cheap sport to begin with, but my God--equipment is at least twice as expensive as it once was, as are entry fees. When racing out of Lincoln, NE in the mid 1990s, we always thought an expensive entry fee was $15.00. And you could almost always win a little money to get your expenses back. Isn't so anymore. My family, with the help of my wife's part time work, just lives on my salary. I do not have a high paying job. I cannot legitimately sacrifice a chunk of this salary to enter a Cat 3 race that I would probably, in all honesty, suck at.

But in some ways, racing scene appears to be very much the same. Pretty elitist, a lot of folks who take it way too seriously, but I've also got some great friends in the peleton. To be honest, the sport was actually far more unfriendly and elitist in the 1980s when I was racing as a junior than it is now. A lot more mainstream athletes got into it, it appears, when the huge boom in road cycling took place (from 1998 through 2006, I'd say). Back in 1985 it was a fringe sport, still, that really seemed to attract fringe people. Not that such as thing was completely bad, because it also had the punk rock quality to it that now seems to be missing to a certain extent. But, folks are just generally more friendly who are associated with racing these days. Its nice.

There is something quite different in my whole approach to "non-racing," as it were, however. I don't want to lose this fitness--and I also don't want to be 217 pounds again. Stepping on the scales and seeing 189 as a reading back in June was revelatory. That is 28 pounds that I lost in 6 months. I've gained back about 8 since then, but that's all I want to gain back. Ever.

I'd also like to be fit enough that if, say, in May of 2014 (I'll still just be in my early 40s then!) I might decide to do some Masters 40+ races. I'd like to be able to punch up my training for a month and hit it--go up to Quad Cities or maybe even do a couple of crits in St. Louis.

My priorities are very different now. I've got another little girl on the way in early November. I need to concentrate on my career. I don't like leaving my family from 3 or 4 hours on weekends to do a ride. I got my base in this Spring--I don't want to lose that base fitness again for years to come.

That's my update for now. Monkeysaspets is again alive . . .

Race # 2

Me on the far left thinking "man, I am totally unprepared for this race today." "I'm really glad I didn't crash back there," and "where's my Kodiak chaw when I need it."



A brilliant Matt Pence sprinting up the monstrous hill to win the Cat 3s at Hermann. (This fantastic photo was taken by Jonathon Schilling).

I haven't raced for well over a month. I journeyed over to one of the great German-American regions of the country--Hermann, Missouri--for what appears to be the advent of a fine, fine stage race/omnium competition. However, I got near the course and realized that I was not prepared for this criterium.

#1: The course is not unlike the Snake Alley Criterium in its elevation gain and the overall steepness of the hill. In fact, I usually have to tinker with my bike for at least a week in order to figure out the exact set screw configuration on my front der. so I don't drop my chain on the Snake. This would cause me serious problems very early on in the race(see see Jimmiez entry called "Record Snake Bite" for a better analysis of what it takes to be ready for Snake).

#2: I have yet another head cold that my daughter seems to have passed around the family this week.

#3: On the warm-up lap, when we were going about 45 miles an hour down the descent, a rider who will remain nameless (and who seems to be a really good guy, actually) almost took me out. I was very shaken at the start of the race.

All these excuses aside, I dropped my chain on lap number 2 and while trying to ride it back on (never a good idea in a race) very nearly caused a really, really bad crash. I wheeled off the course to put it back on so that I wouldn't wreck anybody else, but by that time I was so far in last place that I just said to heck with it all. I saw some other folks take free laps later on with thrown chains, but last I heard its your own stupid fault if you don't have your set screws right.

Finally, though, I was just shaken from the near accident on the descent, maybe I'm just becoming soft. I almost took one of the Revolution gals out, I mean it would have been an awful crash, and it just totally shook me up. After this second crash almost happened while I was trying to ride my chain on, I just could not motivate to keep going, esp. in dead last place and with a head cold.

Perspective

"April is the cruelest month." I believe T.S. Elliot wrote this, and it has been thusly for me. Work is hammering me (a total revamping of almost every procedure in our department as we have new management and we are short staffed) and the weather has been crap. Training has been difficult.

I wrote a buddy this morning an email about bike racing, intense training, how it feels like an extra stressor in my life. He had sage words of advice. "Keep it fun." I thought about it all day and it is so very true.

Cycling should be fun. Racing should be fun. If its not fun, then I need to get some perspective on the whole sport. Look at every race as a adventure of sorts, not some sort of obligation. Training without a heart rate monitor and super structure very well might add more joy to the process.

Battling the Spring Mental Slump

Every year that I've raced, even as a junior, I always encountered a mental slump usually in the vicinity of late March early April that always coincides with a physical slump of some sort. Most, if not all, of this slump consists of a certain variety of doubt about my form. Usually, there is a 2-3 pound weight gain involved. But there are usually life events that coincide that make the slump feel a little more real. And, not to go into too much detail, but this is the case at the moment.

The past week and a half (maybe 2 weeks) I hit that slump. This slump culminated today in a difficult and demoralizing Tuesday night race experience, where I did not make the selection when I most definitely should have. There were plenty of wheels to jump on that would have taken me up there. Heck, last week I probably could have bridged up to this selection, no problem. I just didn't have the courage to suffer like I normally would today.

In previous years, especially in this decade, during one of my "false start" comeback attempts, I would have hit this slump and said "f#ck it." I would have probably bought a six pack and drank most of it tonight and let my bike gather dust for a few weeks, try to race or ride again in mid or late April, get my ass totally kicked, and said "f+ck this sport, I'm out of here."

But there are two reasons why this won't happen.

#1. I don't drink anymore. I could probably start a blog talking just specifically about why that is, but I won't get into it. It ruined me as an athlete. It just doesn't work for me.

#2. I've committed to this season (and to others in the future) because this is what I love to do, more than anything other than hanging out with my wife and daughter. Why not indulge a passion like this?

The slump is over tonight . . .

Dogwood Road Race

I'm going to suffer like a rented mule at this race, but like butthead says, if I can just hang on on the climbs I might. . . just might, have some kind of chance. Also the weather is going to be very much like a March Classic race in Belgium, which will also be in my favor. We'll see what happens.

The old is new again

Monkeysaspets is back, and even better!

I spent about an hour last night agonizing over the cancellation of my blog, and really regretting it. I realized that it just needed a fresh look and a bit of an overhaul. I also realized that it would be foolish, in my comeback year, not to have a forum to recount my successes (and disappointments) in the races to come. I also need a forum to gratuitously taunt my brother, Miguel, about the many rides he will be dropped on during the summer.

The above photo is of Miguel and I after the cold, rainy and infamous Crawfordsville Crit from days of yore. (1997). I’m not sure what is hanging up behind us on the door.