National MTB Championships 2018 - Hadleigh

Hadleigh is a course that makes me nervous. The rocks and technical descents are a daunting combination. Broken ribs at my first visit to the 2012 Olympic venue one of the reasons for sleepless nights during the week leading up to the National Championships.

Rolling slightly apprehensively into a first recon lap on Saturday the rider infront of me bounced and tumbled down the very first sandstone drop. Hardly the introduction my jangling nerves needed, I now had to sit for several minutes peering over the stoney precipice while the medics helped the injured rider limp away. I periodically passed more walking wounded as I cautiously navigated the 3 mile lap. 

In the stifling heat the amount of climbing was what realy stuck me. Long twisting gravel ascents frequently scattered with rock step-ups and occasionally roots. Some were so steep my chin was practically pressed against the handlebars. Even cruising up the inclines had sweat dripping off my nose and dribbling down the inside of my glasses. I took my second lap at a faster pace, the Hadleigh rocks finally claiming some blood. I cleared the big technical challenges, but misjudged a short series of craggy steps, cartwheeling over the bars landing in a crumpled heap at the feet of the amused marshall.

Another restless night in a swealtering hotel room followed, before race day dawned. I joined the gaggle of riders anxiously circulating waiting to be gridded in the blazing sunshine. An hour before midday it was seriously warm and the temperatures would soon be over 30 degrees. I lined up on the back row and was lost in the swirling dust as we shot away following the commisaires whistle.

Starting at the back you quickly loose time as we funneled slowly into a singlefile line between the rocks. I briefly dabbled with the very rear of the race after getting tangled in the tape lining the course on a corner of the first climb. On the longest and fastest descent I pulled back a couple of places and dug in deep on the next climb cutting inside some more riders on the hairpins.

The oppressive heat sapped the strength. It felt like a weight pressing down on your shoulders, pulling you back. I fought past another rider on lap 2 and desperately grabbed a bottle from my wife in the feed zone. I immediately glugged a big swig, desperate for hydration. It was lucky I had taken some advantage because the bottle leapt from the cage and went clattering over the rocks on the first descent.

My throat was as dry as a desert while every inch of my body was sodden with perspiration. I saw no-one  ahead on lap 3 and those behind were dropping back. I began to think my position was settled provided I could make it to the line without heat exhaustion. My heart sunk as I passed the feed zone with no sign of my wife with a refilled bottle. Instead she stood on the first bend capturing my agony for Facebook!

I spotted three riders scattered across the climb ahead crawling up towards the blue sky. Fatigue building, my legs feeling heavy, I was genuinely surprised at the rate which I caught those in-front. They were unable to put up a fight and I was inspired to push on. 

After crossing the line I downed every bottle of liquid my wife offered me, before devouring a beautiful greasy burger! I had finished 28th, a good result on a day when just completing the distance safely was an achievement in itself. 

Southern XC - Matterley

A downhill start is unique in my experience. As well as the unusual incline, rather than the traditional start loop we were faced with an arrow straight 200m drag from the start into a sharp and narrow 90 degree corner. At a real pinch the opening into the trees was just wide enough for two riders side by side. With 40 riders sprinting downhill fighting to lead into that bend, the first few seconds of the race were going to be quite exciting!

The first two rows on the grid were already filled with the leading 12 riders in the series. The initial challenge was to force my way to the front when the rest of the riders were cleared to move forward behind them. I did well! Mission accomplished I sat smugly on the 3^rd row, still with the dozen guys in front, 5 alongside and 23 breathing down my neck! A good start was crucial, anyone not in the top 10 around the first bend would quickly lose significant chunks of time as the field strung out single file through the woods.

The sun blazed down from the clear blue sky as we sat and waited. It was stiflingly hot as the commisaire read through the standard rules of engagement. I tuned him out, focusing on the start, my glasses beginning to steam up and sweat beading on my forehead. The 10 second warning was issued. I tuned back in, “The race could start any time in the next 10 seconds!”. You could hear a pin drop. The silence was broken by the piercing whistle and then the cacophony of clattering pedals, the crunching of tyres on gravel and the grinding of gears.

I dodged straight through the 2^nd row and was on the pedals sprinting flat out on the straightest line for the corner. I jinked left and right amongst the dust and flying stones, trying to find gaps ahead. A chink of daylight appeared and I surged through. Immediately I was on the brakes, rear wheel locked up and sliding towards the corner. One rider cut in infront of me, I had to give way to a second to prevent a collision which let a third draw up on the inside. As I mentioned there was just about space for two and we squeezed through, handlebars interlocked. I was on the outside, but had the slightly better line and powered into third.

The adrenalin was really flowing and I was buzzing to have made it into contention at the sharp end of the race. We swung left and right, I was faster than the rider ahead and he was holding me back. The leader started pulling away and I was frustratingly bottled up. I tried a couple of times to squeeze past, but there wasn’t enough space. I felt like screaming “Come On, he’s getting away!” I could hear the riders right up behind me, undoubtably equally frustrated. I had to take a tight defensive line into the slower corners to stop them from sneaking up the inside.

Between the trees I could see the leader charging the other way down a wider gravel path in the sunshine, while we were still threading our way through the wood. Desperate to give chase I was already alongside 2^nd place as we burst into the daylight. I shot past and down the open track and up a loose stoney slope before sweeping down into the woods again. The gap ahead was closing, I used the short climbs to kick hard and inched my way towards the head of the race. Chasers were hot on my tail and despite defending the racing line, through a series of tight bends I was passed by two of those behind.

I definitely wasn’t going to be nudged just off the podium for the second time this season. I’d already experienced the emotion of a 4^th placed finish at the same venue in May racing Cyclocross. So I stuck to the two ahead as we continued to close in on the race leader. The other two slithered past on consecutive corners, and desperate not to be left behind I grabbed my chance as the course briefly widened. Passing on the right I was back in a podium position.

Just before the end of the lap the course emerged from the wood and fired us up the hill for a few loops through a copse of trees. Bumping over the roots my momentum swung me around the outside of the rider ahead before sprinting down the start finish straight. Only 6 laps to go!

My first warm-up lap on arrival at Matterley had been a huge disappointment. The route had been freshly cut into the woodland, with hardly any of the 1.8 mile circuit using existing trails. I’d bumped slowly around on the loose stones and bracken stems trying to remember a worse course. (I couldn't!) The short lap meant there was time for a second warm-up circuit which I rode faster, the extra speed helping the lap flow much better, although it was still very rough and basic. As the race laps ticked by, hundreds of riders quickly produced a racing line amongst the flints and rocks. However, the surface was still extremely uneven, perfectly suited to a full suspension bike. On my hardtail, I probably only sat down for about a third of the lap!

On the gravel road half way around the second lap, I could hear a rider in my slipstream. It was the guy who had held me up at the start, who now seemed to have got his eye in and warmed up. He came through and I followed, but he was definitely no longer holding me up. The racing was increadibly close, the leader was still easily insight and in range. When I looked two or three riders were always on my tail. I had pushed really hard on that first lap, but there was no chance for recovery. The next 4 laps were all consistently within 15 seconds of the first.  On lap 6 I made a concerted effort to close the small gap to the rider ahead, while there was still time. I nailed every corner, taking risks on the rooty descents, brushing the nettles on the bends, ignoring the stings. I sprinted up the first two inclines and got right up to the wheel of 2^nd place. My heart was about to leap from my chest and stitch started to creep in.

I have suffered quite badly from stitch recently during interval training. It has been totally debilitating, leaving me unable to even turn the pedals. It's been so unbearable I did some research and learnt that nobody actually knows the cause, and therefore there is also no known cure. I had no choice, even with 4^th place only 15 seconds behind, I had to ease off slightly and try and recover whenever the course dipped downhill. Luckily after a minute or two the pain receded, but I was back where I had been, 10 seconds behind 2^nd place.

It was a really close battle. We all attacked during the final lap, putting in faster times compared to the lap before. But in the end we cancelled each other out! I finished 3^rd  43 seconds off the lead and 11.2 behind second place and 12.9 ahead of 4^th. It had been unrelenting for the full 90 minutes. I hadn’t even planned to race at Mattersley, but after missing the previous round I decided a bit of race practice would be perfect preparation for the Nationals next weekend. The bike worked flawlessly and the legs proved themselves strong! This result was a brilliant confidence boost ahead of the big one next Sunday

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XC Racing – Do I need a dropper post?

Spot the difference in the photo above?

I have bought a Trans-X dropper for £100 from Bike-Discount. This is the first major addition to my race bike for almost 2 seasons. As a gram counting weight weenie the idea of adding half a kilo of seatpost to my race bike makes me want to weep!  

 

One more messy remote cable up front. 

So what convinced me? The technical challenge of the National Championships at Hadleigh later this month is currently at the forefront of my mind. 3 years ago, when I last raced at Hadleigh, I wimped out on a couple of the steep rocky A-lines. Opting for a safety first strategy, having crashed and burned during my first visit to the 2012 Olympic venue a couple of years earlier. At the time I was happy with my choice, crossing the line 14^th in the Masters age category was a far better result than the previous DNF.

Taking the B-lines may only have cost me around 10 seconds a lap, which doesn’t sound much, but in a 6 lap race I was giving away over a minute. It definitely cost me a position on the day and it may have been a couple more. This year I will be racing in the more competitive Vet category and feel the need for every slight advantage I can get. My hope is that a lower seatpost will give me the confidence to take on those tougher sections and reclaim that vital minute compared to my rivals. The small amount of extra effort required to haul 500g around the course will be more than made up for by recovering a bit of lap time.  

Watch out for my race report at the end of the month.

Cycling with Asthma

I haven’t had much to report over the past month. I missed a round of the Southern XC series in June due to a snotty cold, which has been playing havoc with my Asthma ever since. We’ve heard plenty about Asthma in the cycling press recently. My personal opinion being that if I needed 16 squirts of Salbutamol to ride my bike I’d be sat at home and not winning the Vuelta a Espania!

Despite the glorious summer weather I’ve been prevented from riding as much as I would of liked. Even as I’ve recovered I was still only able to manage lower effort rides without getting out of breath. The good news is that the end appears to be in sight. Tackling a couple of hills after work on Tuesday didn’t result in a coughing fit or puffing on my inhaler like Chris Froome. The recent low mileage, low intensity rides may not have been ideal preparation, but my recovery comes just in time for the National Championships on the 22nd.