Gorrick Spring Classic 2019

Holding an event in February and calling it the “Spring Classic” could be viewed as slightly optimistic. However, the weather gods looked kindly on the Gorrick organisers. The sky was blue and there was definitely a hint of warmth from the dappled morning sunlight glinting between the trees. After a dry week the trail conditions were a perfect blend of fast and grippy.

The Crowthorne venue has been on the cross country calendar since the 90’s, but the Gorrick route planners had been busy producing new sections to link together the more familiar classics like the corkscrew. In fact I twice turned the wrong way on my warm-up lap, so familiar am I with the traditional layout! Gorrick courses don’t usually feature anything too technical, but the lap included two steep drop offs that offered a choice of the A or less challenging B line. (I rode the A at both.) On the whole though it was the usual mix of singletrack, trees, roots and short punchy climbs, broken up with the occasional fireroad to allow some passing.

Maybe because of my detours during my warm-up I rolled up to the start a little later than intended. This meant I was right at the back of the 38 man Veteran Plus grid, the biggest category of the day. We swept away from the line and I chased the pack along the undulating fireroad making up places as we sprinted up the inclines, rear tyre scrabbling for grip and then tucking into a slipstream on the descents.

Streaming into the singletrack I continued to fight my way forward, sneaking past riders whenever the opportunity arose. Approaching different riders you quickly assess their comparative strengths and weaknesses. I’d catch some and frustratingly follow them through the singletrack twists and turns looking desperately for an opportunity to get by, only for them to power off as soon as the course opened up. Others I would fly past on a climb and then feel them breathing down my neck through the next set of corners. Sometimes they’d repass me and I'd have to wait for a second opportunity to pass and break away.  23 minutes into the race and we completed the first of four laps. I was up to 13^th.

Since I moved up to Vets last year I have discovered how competitive the Vets category is. As well as the biggest field it is also the fastest. Multiple national champ Paul Hopkins was  already several minutes up the road and set the fastest laps of any race category. In the fiercely competitive and closely packed midfield I found myself in a group of five riders. We weren’t always nose to tail, but were constantly within sight of one another. As the race ebbed and flowed we traded positions during the next couple of laps. Although I maintained a consistent pace I now found myself sliding backwards within this group rather than continuing to press forward. An Evans sponsored rider I’d passed earlier was tracking me closely. For two laps the gap behind was never more than a few seconds. I pulled away on the climbs and he’d pull me back on the flat. As we approached the line to begin the final lap he was hot on my heels.

I decided to pop in a gel for a boost of energy, and the brief relaxation in pace was all he needed to sneak ahead. I could see all 5 of the riders ahead of me when the course opened out. If I needed an incentive to push this was it! On my limit I dug really deep on two draggy slopes as we entered the final stages of the race. Despite my efforts I hadn’t made any significant impact on the gaps ahead. Even worse I could hear a rider approaching from behind!

I threw the bike through the final sections of singletrack, bouncing off the roots, elbows brushing the trees. I was so desperately concentrating on not getting caught I was quite surprised when I rounded a bend and realised I had closed right up on the rider ahead. The trouble was that trapped in the tight trails under the trees he was slowing my pace and allowing the rider behind to close us both down even quicker. There was nothing I could do but wait for the last short steep little squirt uphill before the twists down to the finish. I made sure I was tight on the wheel infront as we turned into the climb. I had to take the less favourable line over the roots if I wanted to get past. I jumped on the pedals, the rear wheel bouncing on the roots. I was pushed further left than I wanted to go, off the path and into the bracken. I recovered and kicked again. I got alongside, but I was on the outside of the next bend and had to concede position as we dropped down and crossed the line.

Gorrick produced a fantastic course, in prime condition, boosted by beautiful weather for the time of year. Brilliant close racing is such a buzz and I love the physical challenge. I finished 19^th with the 5 positions ahead covered by only a minute. Vets is tough and unforgiving but such good fun!

Every day is a cycling day!

January was full of rides like this!

I rode a bike every day in January! Over all the years I’ve been cycling and training, this is the first time I’ve ever ridden every single day of a calendar month.  It wasn’t a New Years resolution or something I intentionally set out to do either. However, once it became a "thing" I couldn’t resist the little personal challenge.

So how did it even become a "thing"?

Early in the month the trail conditions were perfect. i.e. Dry and fast! Two new bikes at Christmas for the younger members of the family had helped fill the weekends. Plus with the kids still on vacation and requiring no school run duties, I was unable to resist the pleasure of the perfect night time trails after work. I remember the first time it rained since well before Christmas; it was the 17^th. Typically the 17^th was the day I was leading the club MTB ride! The next day was a Thursday, which is normally one of my non training days. After dinner I was sitting in front of the TV with my feet up. Casually I checked the Garmin App on my phone and noticed that the proceeding 17 days were all green, indicating activities logged. It seemed a shame to end the run so hopped on the turbo for 30 minutes of Zwift. 18 consecutive days - and now I was aware there was no way I could just stop there!

I was racing that weekend and should have been resting in the days leading up to the event. I chose "active recovery" instead of a days off! Saturday I made the excuse that I had to check the bike ahead of Sunday, and ambled around the local lanes, when clicking through the gears in the bike stand was all it really needed.

The accumulation of miles and days began to take their toll the following week. I was noticeably tired and my legs were heavy. Even getting out of my chair and walking around the office I could feel the burn. Mid week rides became easy low power spins, as I desperately tried to recover. Surprisingly it worked because come Sunday I was able to enjoy a cracking 4 hour MTB ride with the boys.        

17th January - First rain for a month and also the CCR club ride!

Monday was pay back for that fun. I felt utterly drained during my usual commute. Almost grinding to a halt into the light headwind across the airfield on the way home. There was absolutely no motivation for my typical detour up the hill. I sat on the bike Tuesday evening feeling so weak I was barely able to turn a pedal. I laboured away, hunched over the bars, head lolling, no speed and no energy. I had another race that weekend. I should have been tapering and I told myself that night as I went to bed that I had to rest the following day. Of course by the morning I’d convinced myself a couple of easy miles on Zwift to keep the 23 day run going wouldn’t hurt. Then a funny thing happened. After 15 minutes warming up I felt stronger and was able to push hard on the climbs and take on the sprints. A quick ride became a full 60 minute Zwift workout. Thursday was the same and after work on Friday I powered up the hill and hit the local trails flat out. Two days later, Sundays race result was my best of the winter! My body had adapted to the new regime.

31 consecutive days. Every day of 2019 so far!

2019? Is that now the new "thing"?!

Brass Monkeys Winter Series - Final Round 2018/19

With my first year racing in the Veteran category coming to a close, I hadn’t yet nailed a top 10 finish on my MTB. (Yes, there had been a 4^th place last May in a CX race, oh and a sneaky podium in the summer, but that was when I dipped back to the Open category for one event.) I felt I had raced strongly at the previous round of the Brass Monkeys series, but I’d been left slightly frustrated with 12^th, only 2 1/2 minutes behind 10^th after 4 hours racing.

The evening after the race as I lay in bed I decided 10^th was my goal for the next round and that a bit more dedication was required. For the past 3 weeks I’ve been eating carefully. Less naughty treats, cutting out a grazing habit built up over the festive holiday period. The remaining Christmas cake stayed in the tin instead of in my lunch box and I cut out my evening bowl of cereal in front of TV. I’ve been going to bed with my stomach grumbling!

Further motivation came later that week when the series points were published. Consistency meant I was placed 6^th. I always say that success at the Brass Monkeys series is about getting rider and bike home at all the rounds. Grim winter conditions mean that bikes take a beating during the races and riders have to negotiate flu and cold season while remaining fit when conditions are not conducive to training.

Goal in mind I put in two big training weeks, both over 10 hours, including 4 hour weekend rides. I made sure these miles were off-road as much as the weather allowed. I’d then taken it easy in the days before the final race so I was feeling fresh. I’d cleaned the bike, checked the latex in the tyres, fork pressures, cleaned the drivechain and double checked it was working flawlessly. I was well prepared and on the morning of the race rather than screaming up with minutes to spare, I arrived at the venue nice and early. This allowed time for a proper 15 minute warm-up, instead of relying on the opening lap of the race to stretch the legs. I then jostled for a position slightly nearer the front of the grid. I felt fit; the bike was tuned, the starter blew the air horn and we were off.

To help spread the field the race opened with a mile of wide fireroad. Unfortunately overnight rain meant it was coated in a slithery gloop and riddled with puddles. Riders wove left and right dodging the muddiest, wettest sections while also fighting each other for position. The rear wheels ahead threw mud up into my face, coating my glasses, adding visibility issues to the mix of challenges. By the time we hit the course proper bike and rider were filthy and as I pedaled up the first hill the drivechain sounded horribly grunchy and gritty. Only 4 hours to go!

Riders continued to fight for places over the opening lap. I was bumped left and right, my rear tyre was rubbed and one rider even ran into me. As usual I can’t understand all this bumping and barging when we’ve got 4 hours to sort everything out. And having invested all that energy pushing me out of the way and sprinting off ahead on the first lap I can guarantee I’ll spin past them all later in the race. Experience has told me it’s best to conserve that strength for later in the day.

Following the successful example of the previous rounds I preserved what energy I could during the first 2 laps. This was hard in the muddy conditions as you need strength and power to negotiate greasy roots and fight for traction on slippery slopes. The 38 minute first lap immediately told me that this wasn’t going to be a 7 lap race like the previous events. The 42 minute second lap meant it might not even be a 6 lap race! Into lap 3 I stepped on the gas, quickly gaining on a group of 4 ahead that I could see contained riders close behind me in the series ranking. As we approached a big grassy uphill traverse I stamped on the pedals hoping I could catch and pass them all before they realised and had chance to follow my wheel. Heart rate through the roof I wove between them, out of the saddle hauling my bike up the slope. I then pushed hard over the top to open a gap. A back marker came to my assistance when I was able to slot in front of the slower rider just as we entered a tighter section of trail, delaying the others slightly in their chase.

The reduced number of laps had thrown my normal refueling strategy. I had stopped for a bottle at the end of lap 2 and stopped again as normal on lap 3, but I rejoined behind two of the four riders I had overtaken and worked so hard to distance during the lap. They also picked up bottles, but had better pit assistance than myself with my bag of loose bottles! I’d estimate it cost me 15- 20 seconds. It took an entire lap to close up the distance lost and get back ahead. Now I had a decision to make. Did I stop again, let them through and have to do it all again? Or did I push on and risk hitting the wall when I ran out of fluid and food?

I decided to push on and maximize my advantage. I was riding hard and made up some further positions during the course of the lap. The conditions were also changing. The course itself was improving. The passage of hundreds of riders had created a racing line through the worst of the mud. Also new drier lines between the trees were getting run in, where people had gone in search of extra grip. However, the earlier sunshine was history and grey clouds were gathering overhead. First white sleety flakes were blown fluttering through the trees by the stiff northerly wind. Then as we headed towards the final lap, down came the hail. Beating on my helmet, the white beads briefly lining the tyre ruts in the trail before melting away.    

My strategy had worked and I’d stretched out a lead on the chasers behind during the lap, but glancing back I knew the gap wasn’t huge. It had taken some effort and I couldn’t ride another 40 minutes without further refueling. I’d have to stop this time. Skidding up to my bag I swapped in a new bottle, grabbed a banana and raced off with a gel between my teeth. Two chasers were now hot on my wheels and closed right up behind as we clattered down the first rooty descent. My pit stop had given them hope and I wanted to break them as soon as possible. I launched a full attack on the first climb hoping to gain an early advantage and a chance to eat while I still had time for my body to absorb the nutrients before the hills at the end of the lap. As the trail looped left at the top of the climb I glanced back. Despite putting myself deep into the red both riders were still hot on my heels. Inner demons began to surface. I wasn’t sure I could continue to ride like this and I didn’t fancy having to fend off a counter attack. I worried those behind were just biding their time. I had to remind myself that I had been stronger on the previous lap. I should still be the strongest now, it was just as hard for them and they were burning their last reserves trying to stick on my wheel.

For another 20 minutes we rode nose to tail, but with me always setting the pace on the front. We gained another position sweeping past a rider who had blown and was in survival mode, just spinning the pedals but going nowhere. With about 10 minutes of racing remaining the rain began to lash down. The trail conditions which had improved were suddenly lethally slippery again, the roots like ice under the tyres. There were two climbs at the end of the lap. Both of the long gradual variety, that burn the thighs more and more as the lactic builds. The first was the steeper and I guessed better suited for an attack. This was no out of the saddle sprint. I stayed seated and spun, not quite in the style of Chris Froome but my legs were on fire, powering up the slope as fast as I could. It was key I didn’t blow out before the top. Could I make the top at this speed? I could feel twinges that suggested cramp wasn’t far away. I didn’t look back, I crested the slope and focused on the best line through the trees as I dropped like a stone down the other side, breathing deeply trying to let the legs recover. Now I glanced behind. I had a gap but it was just a handful of seconds. Into the final climb and it was the same tactic, but this time the lactic came on much sooner. Rather than charge ahead I was grinding my way up the slope with every last ounce of effort. At the top another look behind. An empty path! I flew through the last few sections of singletrack as fast as I dared in the worsening conditions, but they weren’t coming back to me now. I was free, crossing the line alone with nobody even in sight behind.  

I had heard no commentary during the race and had no idea of my position. Diving into the warmth and dry of the event tent I spotted my name on the results screen -  8^th. Top ten! I’d done it! In a room of damp strangers I had a little fist pump celebration with myself! “Get in!”

It had been a tough race. My AVERAGE heart rate over 4 hours was 163bpm!  Some Sundays I can do an entire 4 hour ride without reaching that sort of figure once! No doubt it had taken preparation, dedication and a significant amount of effort on the day, but I had the result I wanted. I also quickly learnt that I’d moved up to 5^th in the series, matching my best result from 2014 in one of my favourite events.  

All hanging on the last round!

It is all about consistency at the Brass Monkeys. Getting rider and bike to the finish line successfully at all three rounds is the key to a top series position. So despite narrowly missing out on a top 10 position at the first two rounds I am sitting 6th in the series. The points table is extremely tight though, so expect tough racing at the final round!

Brass Monkeys 2018/19 Round 2

The winter XC race scene returned to Minley Manor on Sunday for the 2^nd round of the Brass Monkeys series. Such are the variety of quality trails at Minley the course was unrecognizable to the one raced before Christmas at Round 1.  I’d estimate only a couple of hundreds meters of the 5.5 mile lap were shared with the previous event and much of that was run in reverse.

It hasn’t rained since before Christmas so the course was in perfect condition when I arrived anxious and excited at 9am. An element of my pre-race nerves was due to concern I had overtrained during the week leading up to the race.  The holiday season coupled with good weather meant I had ridden every day in the week leading up to the race, including a fairly strenuous mid week mountain bike ride. With those miles in my legs I’d felt tired and lethargic during Friday’s commute and my muscles had still been sore during a brief bike check on Saturday.

However, I’ve never identified the optimum race preparation. I’ve turned up at previous events rested and fresh, only to struggle terribly during the race. So it should have been no surprise that I felt like a million dollars on Sunday!

Following my experience at the previous round I purposefully started in the mid-field and let the pack moderate my pace on the opening loop. As we spread out I continued to slightly hold back, riding at 90%, not pushing hard out of corners or sprinting down the occasional fireroad. My aim was to save energy for later. Of course I was racing so everything is relative! I still recorded my fastest laps and clocked my highest heart rates during the first 3 laps.  It was only as the 4^th lap started, an hour and a half into the race, that I consciously began to properly push on.

My pacing meant my 7th and final lap was only  a minute slower than my first full circuit. It paid off as I was able to finish strongly, passing one rider and holding off an attack from another who had beaten me at the previous round.

Lap 1: 29.15 Shorter opening lap
Lap 2: 33.16
Lap 3: 34.00
Lap 4: 33.54
Lap 5: 34.11
Lap 6: 34.47
Lap 7: 34.18

I executed my race plan perfectly on Sunday. No mistakes out on course, I felt strong and in control throughout the race and crossed the line having given it everything I had and maximized my potential. On the face of it then I was disappointed that I could put in that much effort and my performance was still not good enough to break into the top 10. (I missed out by less than 2.5 minutes) The fact is there are 11 people who were better than me on the day.

Whatever the result I enjoy the thrill of testing myself over 4hrs of close racing in superb conditions on an excellently prepared and designed course. 

Brass Monkeys Series 2018/19 - Round 1

I promise I had been good and behaved myself at the cycle clubs Christmas dinner the night before, but I still suffered a difficult morning and a very uncomfortable journey up to Minley Manor on Sunday morning for the first round of the Brass Monkeys winter series. On arrival at the venue I quickly rushed to join the queue for the porta-loos!

I might have been feeling a bit green around the gills, but at least the weather had been kind. There was a chill to the air as we gathered at the start line, but the trees sheltered us from the breeze and there was blue sky overhead.

From the start we were almost immediately into the singletrack. This normally would have been excellent news, but with the large number riders suddenly compressed into a snaking crocodile we were forced to proceed at the pace of the slowest. It felt like I was just coasting along lightly turning the pedals. Of course whenever there was an open section everyone sprinted in an attempt to make up ground, at one point we were 5 abreast all elbows out, it was crazy for the start of a 4 hour race! This lead to stressed riders, raised voices and some shouting which was all totally unnecessary. Yes, it was frustrating but we were all in the same boat. I suppose it was therefore no surprise to hear the crash of a massive pile-up half way around the first lap as people jostled for position. Much later in the race I caught and passed the chap who had been most vocal and causing much of the trouble. I wish I had been able to think of a witty comment as I sailed past, but I guess the results say it all.  

Gaps finally started to open and the race was beginning to split into smaller groups as we began the second lap. No chance to stretch the legs just yet though as we immediately caught the stragglers at the back of the 2 hour race, and had to begin painfully picking our way past the back markers. To be honest I didn’t greatly enjoy the first few laps, but eventually things thinned out.

I found myself in a group with 4 others and we worked well together, finally increasing the pace as we approached the end of the second lap. On the final couple of climbs of the lap I pushed to the front and stretched my legs trying to drop the others. Now I learnt how useful it is to have friends, family or teammates to lend a hand. Having stretched a slight lead we swung into the pit area. I skidded up to my bag, tore open the lid, pulled out a fresh full bottle and an energy bar. I slotted the bottle into my frame and poked the bar into my jersey pocket as quickly as I could. I looked up to see the other 4 riders were already around the first few bends and disappearing into the trees. They unlike me had all had a helper to pass them a bottle as they sped past without stopping. While they now sat up able to enjoy their fresh drinks I was sprinting like mad trying to get back on the wheels. In fact I never saw a couple of the group again as they split away.

An hour later we reached half race distance. The 2 hour race had now ended  and with no more backmarkers I was suddenly all alone! I concentrated to maintain focus and at least all the earlier holdups and steady start meant I was now feeling nicely warmed-up and able to press on. 

I was chalking up 33 -35 minute laps which meant it was marginal for me to complete a 7^th lap within the 4 hour cut-off. My 5th lap was 35 minutes flat. which meant despite having 3 hours of racing in the legs the next two laps would need to be almost as fast. I know form previous years it is always worth squeezing in the extra lap. With an hour and 10 minutes riding to go I had to maximise every corner, every decent and push on every climb. The heart was pounding the legs burning, fully focused I rolled across the line in a lap time of 36 minutes with 37 left until the time cut-off. It was going to be very tight! 

I dug deep. The only company I had on that lap was the leaders coming through to lap me. It was slightly depressing that I was 4 miles behind, but these are national champions, and it was eye opening to see the state they were in. They were rocking and rolling, struggling with fatigue and cramp, to such an extent that towards the end of the lap as I chased the clock I closed back in on them. I was digging very deep indeed and constantly glancing at the time on my Garmin.

I followed the leaders sprinting across the line with a little over a minute in hand before the course closed. I was the last man to cross the line!

13th might not be a stella headline result. Once again a side effect of getting older is that the competition is tougher. I'd have been 7th in the under 40's!  However, I am really pleased with my race and how I was able to push hard in that final hour when others were slowing and falling back. Maybe even slightly surprising since I haven't ridden off-road for 4 hours since August!

Gorrick Autumn Classic 2018

It felt as though the air had gone thick like treacle, or perhaps my brakes were locked on? I checked and no both tyres weren’t flat! Why did it feel like such hard work today?

I was on the limit, my thighs were throbbing, my heart was racing and I was trying hard to fight off stitch. I wanted to sprint and chase after the riders ahead, but my body just flatly refused to respond to the request. I hadn’t pushed myself so deeply into red since my last XC race at the end of July and during the first lap of the Gorrick Autumn Classic that lack of race fitness really showed!

There were some mitigating circumstances. Earlier that morning I’d punctured only 5 minutes into my warm-up lap. I’d limped back to the car, leaving puddles of latex on the ground as I’d fought to get the tyre to seal. Hearing the 5 minute warning echo through the trees I pumped up the tyre and hoped for the best, rolling up to the back of the grid just as the starter got the race underway. Sprinting away cold from the very back of the pack I was last man to cross the start line. I’d tried to make up positions on the opening undulating fire road, but it wasn’t the charge to the front I’d hoped for and in fact as we approached the singletrack some of those I had overtaken slipped back ahead again. Taking my muscles from cold to a flat out sprint, and from a resting heart rate immediately to the redline without properly warming up wasn’t the optimum race strategy! I decided to play the long game and work my way forward more steadily. Actually I didn’t decide - I had no choice!

The added disadvantage of my earlier puncture was missing out on my recon lap. Despite having raced at Crowthorne for over 10 years I wasn’t familiar with Sundays course. So at every unsighted corner or drop I had to be slightly cautious. Slowing down costs time and then having to pick up speed again is wasted effort.

The course was a flat 4 mile loop of glorious singletrack. Despite the suffering I couldn’t help but enjoy sweeping around the flowing corners, clattering over the roots, and diving down the sandy slopes amongst the trees. It wasn’t until deep into the 2^nd lap that I felt the race coming back to me. Finally the legs responded to requests for more power, but it was too late to make any real impact. I managed to drag myself back into the top 20, but those I’d normally expect to race were already minutes up the trail. I didn’t see them until I crossed the line, where they had recovered their breath enough to already be reliving the highlights and excitedly sharing tails of their races.

So yes a disappointing result, but on such a brilliant course I had had too much fun to be depressed.