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.