Gorrick Spring Classic Round 1 – Racing is back!

It took a long time to feel like I was getting over the effects of Covid, which I caught 3 months ago at the end of November. I missed the entire winter race season feeling weak and unable to push hard on the pedals for sustained efforts. Recovery was slow, and included some humbling social rides, where the group had to repeatedly wait for me or change the planned route to cut the ride short.

As we came into February the new race season was imminent, but I still felt slow. I was barely averaging 15mph during solo training road rides. This was on familiar routes where I’d normally expect to be doing 18mph or closer to 20mph with a bit of effort. That was the trouble my body wasn’t able to put in that extra “bit of effort”!

Nevertheless, I entered the first Gorrick Spring Classic. My expectation in terms of the result was low, but I felt I needed to get back in the saddle if I was to call myself a racer. There was the added motivation of new team kit from Strada Handbuilt Wheels.

Rows of cars glinted in the dappled sunlight coming through the trees as I rolled into the carpark at Highlands farm near Deepcut. Post pandemic the race numbers seem to be on the rise which is fantastic to see.

There was an amusing moment on the start line when nobody took up an empty slot on the front row! From the security of row two I had a good get away as we plunged down a wide fireroad and then up into the woods and the beginning of the serpentine singletrack. I tried to count those ahead to gauge my position and guessed I was about 7^th or 8^th.

The pace was hot as we swept up and down, swinging left and right kicking up the dry loamy soil. Since I got my new wheels I’ve been experimenting with ever lower and lower tyre pressures. On my pump at least, at this event I was running 10psi in the front and 15psi in the back. On the road it feels terrible, like two flat tyres, but once on the loose soil and tangle of roots that make up a traditional Gorrick XC course it all comes together.  I ride a hardtail and the low pressure at the back increases traction and the comfort, while up front the soft tyre allows me to hunt out grip in the corners. The new wide 30mm rims stop the tyre from deforming and squirming, although there were a few scary bangs and nervous moments when one of the shiny new carbon rims struck a root. Thankfully, the 2.35in Fast Trak tyres held pressure without ‘burping’ their contents.

I was keen to stay in the top ten and fought hard to hold my place in the group and make sure none of the riders in the long line behind snuck past. Then as the first lap wound on, despite the pace I felt I could go faster. It was hard to find somewhere to pass so I had to just stay as close as possible to the rider in front and wait for a moment to pounce. My strength is the climbs so this is where I took my opportunity to pass one and then a second rider.

Behind me two other riders followed me past and we crossed the line to complete the first of the three laps in a tight nose to tail battle. As I mentioned there weren’t many passing places so it was key to defend these critical areas. Charging hard out of the corner before any wider section of the trail and defending the inside line as we turned in again.

This is how I rode the entire second lap trying to recover on the tighter sections where passing was impossible. We caught and passed some other riders, but those behind stayed glued to my wheel as the three of us crossed the line again. Despite my strength on the climbs this was actually where the rider directly behind was able to apply the most pressure, which made them especially painful!

Twice we caught unobservant riders who I presume were practicing the course before their event in the afternoon. On both occasions as they came into sight ahead, the rider was off their bike negotiating a tricky technical section on foot. Despite my loud shout of, “Riders!” they then decided to remount their bike instead of simply stepping to the side. In both cases I had no choice but to come to a complete halt right in the middle of the tough section of trail they had just struggled to navigate. The first time it was nerve-racking because I worried the riders behind would use the opportunity to find a way by. The second time I was exceptionally frustrated. I’d just put in a really big effort to try and open a gap on those shadowing me from behind, who immediately closed straight back up. I was a beginner once, but I feel have always gone out of my way to prevent holding up faster racing riders. There is nothing worse than fighting hard to win a small gap on your pursuers only to have to give it all away because of somebody elses lack of observation. I guess that it is all part of racing.

As the last lap began I made a final concerted effort to break away; digging deep, my legs screaming I was fighting off the burning of stitch in my chest. It is an indication of how close the racing had been for the previous two laps, that I considered a couple of bike lengths a success! It did at least allow me to focus more on speed in the corners rather than having to take a defensive line.

I finished 4^th a healthy 8 seconds ahead of the chasers who then came over to congratulate me and share tails of our race long battle!

I was immensely proud with the result. I don’t feel frustrated to miss the podium, 3^rd place was over a minute up the trail. After the last few months, to race competitively at the front end of the field was hugely satisfying.

Covid disappointment

I've been on the bike a lot in the past three weeks, enjoying more hours in the saddle than any when previously this year. Crunching through the autumn leaves, making the most of  the dry Southdowns trails, as I built up to the Brass Monkeys winter series. 

After a 4 hour ride on Sunday I was feeling physically well prepared. The bike was totally dialled and my order of SIS gels and Peanut Butter Cliff Bars had arrived ready to scoff during the races.

I was going to take it easy in the week building up to the first race with just a couple of short rides planned, so I was refreshed and ready to go! This would be helped by the fact I was starting a new job on Monday that required me to be in the office 5 days a week. 

After nearly two years working from home, getting up at 6.15 and spending the day in a busy office came as a bit of a culture shock. Then at Thursday lunch time I received the worrying news that I'd been in close contact with somebody in the office who had tested positive for Covid. 

I took a lateral flow test immediately which was negative, but by the time I got home it felt like my head was in a vice and I was getting short of breath. Another lateral flow this time came back positive. 

I'm now waiting for my PCR result, but I am really disappointed. The Brass Monkeys are great races to keep me focused on training through the winter months. I've also had some good series results, but this year will be the third in a row that I've been unable to compete in all the rounds and challenge for an overall series position. Gutted.

Gorrick Autumn Classic

Arriving at Frimley I was still on a bit of a high after the surprise podium at my previous race. However, this week it was back to the shorter XCO (Cross Country Olympic) race format. After my warm-up lap it was clear the 3 lap race was going to be done and dusted in about an hour. Quite different to the 6 hour battle of endurance that had seen my recent success.

The course was what we've come to expect at Highlands farm, comprising almost entirely of flowing singletrack. As I said in my last race report for the venue, brilliant fun for a Sunday social, but it can be frustrating when racing, due to the limited opportunities to pass. 

So it proved after the first mad 100m dash off the line. We all followed the leader in a long snake for the first 3 or 4 minutes. I could have, and would have liked to go faster, but we were all stuck in a fast moving convoy. Initially I didn't worry too much as everyone was still tight up to the wheel in front, but gradually the frustration grew as gaps started to form in the queue of riders ahead. 

A space started to open in front of the rider about 4 ahead of me in the snake. One by one the riders ahead slipped past until finally it was my turn. Trouble was the damage was done, this had spread us out and it was immensely hard and would take a massive amount of effort to close the gaps back down.

In fact I rode 95% of the race stranded in 11th place with the same riders in front and behind. I've well documented my recent run of finishing just outside the top 10, so there was no lack of determination to catch the rider ahead. After 60 minutes the finish line was in sight, but about now my slow twitch muscles and diesel engine were just beginning to warm up! The guy in front had his family along for support and twice each lap they would lean over the tape and cheer him. As we passed them with only a minute or two of the race to go, I was closing in on his wheel. They shouted "Go, go Daddy" and " You've got him covered Rich!" In fact I almost felt bad for them when a few minutes later I saw their eager, expectant faces at the finish line and I was in front! 

So 10th place! Not a podium, but it is my first top ten XCO result since I started racing in the Veterans category 3 years ago. Which meant I drove home with a contented smile on my face.

It had been great to race, but I'd also really enjoyed meeting up with familiar faces before and after the racing was done. So now I'm not so sure about sitting out the next XCO race in a couple of weeks as I had originally planned. I had intended to focus on longer rides in preparation for the Brass Monkeys winter series that starts on the 28th November. I'll see how I feel, watch this space.

 

Surprise result from the back of the pack

My aim for Sundays race was simply to complete the distance and enjoy myself. I intentionally started slowly, from right at the back of the pack. When I checked over my shoulder there was nobody behind me, while in front a long snake of riders wound their way up the first climb. It was brilliant to see so many out on a sunny September morning. It was by far the biggest field I have ridden in for several years, since before the Covid pandemic.

I rode at a nice comfortable pace taking care not to push too hard and taking every opportunity to freewheel, consciously saving my legs for later. This was going to be my longest ride in over a year. Being this far back in the group my speed was moderated by those around me, the only frustration being that I also couldn't enjoy the fun technical sections at full speed either.

Despite my steady approach I began to pick off riders one by one and on my 2nd lap the commentary announced I was in 8th. I was surprised and also really excited! I haven't had a top 10 result since 2019.

A few laps later I heard them mention my name again and now I had climbed to 5th! Brilliant I had time in the bag, so felt confident enough to stop and spend a minute or two in the pit area tightening my loose saddle. While I was there I also enjoyed a 2 course lunch of a Jam Sandwich and Banana!

Now over half distance I began to feel confident I was going to stay the course and finish the 6 hours. I was still not pushing hard on the pedals, but my lap times remained consistent despite tiring legs. I crossed the line with three 5 mile laps remaining and was now up to 4th. 

Even despite this news I was more concerned about blowing out and being caught from behind, than chasing the podium. I continued to hold back and save myself for the final hour of racing. It wasn't until I caught sight of the 3rd placed rider ahead that I even considered the podium was achievable.

I moved into 3rd shortly before we started the final lap, so I had a decision to make. I was out of supplies. There was nothing left in my bottle and my jersey pockets were empty. I'd been munching fig rolls and Cliff Bars almost continuously since the race had started. I didn't want to 'bonk' and cramp up on the last lap, but stopping to refuel would mean relinquishing 3rd position.

I decided to stop. I gulped down an energy gel and put a new bottle in my cage. Now, after five and a half hours I finally stopped holding back and let myself go, attacking the course with everything I had. It was my 10th lap, so I knew the best lines to take through all the corners and the challenging rooty sections. I swept back into 3rd place and charged on to complete my fastest lap of the day. 

I passed a number of riders as I hammered round the course. Most I was lapping (some for the 2nd time), but as it turned out I also moved myself up into 2nd place by the time I crossed the finishing line.

It was such a great feeling to charge to the line in a podium position! I've got pretty down about my cycling recently, so this was just what I needed to rebuild my self belief. I had in reality given up the idea of ever challenging for wins and podiums again. I'd become an also ran, propping up the midfield. This result means so much to me, as it proves that on my day I can still be competitive. 

Racing again

On Sunday I will once again strap a race number to the handlebars, at the Gorrick orgainised Brass Monkeys event. As described in my previous post I haven't raced all summer. My head is now in a better place, but is the body ready!? 

Back in April, when I registered, I foolishly entered the 6 hour distance. The intention at the time was to provide some motivation to get out and ride. Which didn't work! It's only very recently that I've got even close to the sort of time in the saddle, I considered normal previously. 

At a Brass Monkey's event pre-Covid, I'd have been aiming for the top 10. I don't feel in that sort of form now, so I've set a more realistic goal of just completing the event. After all my longest ride in the past 12 months is a 4 hour leisurely summer social with a nice long break for coffee and cake in the middle! 

So all I can hope is that my race strategy goes to plan and that I keep riding to the end of the allotted time without stopping. Strategy? What strategy I hear you ask!

Well it's pretty basic! To begin with I hope to control my excitement at the start and set off intentionally slow. Then feed and fuel myself correctly during the race, pacing myself to finish........ maybe 'strongly' is the wrong word after 6hrs, so let's say 'positively'! I take confidence that as a general rule I've traditionally been good at pacing myself over longer events. However, it's been a while, so to be honest on Sunday I'll take crawling across the line with my tongue dragging in the dirt as a success!

Light at the end of the tunnel

I’ve cycled less in 2021 than I have for 10 years. Struggling to find motivation it got to the point where I was not looking forward to my next ride. It became a chore fitting the time for riding into my week. I genuinely considered taking a break from cycling altogether. (I even tried running …. briefly!)

I can look back now and perhaps recognise some of the reasons why my enjoyment for the sport, that has dominated so much of my life, faded so dramatically; from being the thing that defined who I was, to being something I wanted to forget.

Everyone has found dealing with the Covid pandemic a challenge in some way. I’d got used to working from home and then in February, just when our hopes were high for an end to lock down, my employer told me they were closing our office at the end of the year. Looking back now I can see that this coincided with when my cycling derailed, which is probably more than a coincidence.

Just the fact I even wanted to write this blog suggests something has now changed. Is it a coincidence I started my new job last week?

Perhaps this is over simplifying. Over the past 18 months my social group of cycling buddies has also disbanded. Two have moved away and the repeated interruptions from Covid lockdowns has meant come Sunday the “Fab5” WhatsApp group has been quiet. With no weekend ride planned I’ve stayed in bed for longer, so rides have had to be shorter. When I am out, I’m on my own so not pushing myself nearly as hard without the competitive sparring with friends spurring me on. This combination has led to a drop in fitness making rides harder and less enjoyable. Of the few I’ve entered, my recent race results have been badly disappointing which has further dented my overall confidence. I no longer relate to myself as an obsessed cyclist, I’m just somebody who rides a bike recreationally.

Writing it down it sounds depressing, and I guess without realising that’s exactly what it has become.

I could end the blog there, but I want to finish on a positive. The basic reasons why I love cycling haven’t gone away. The buzz of going fast on a bike still makes me grin from ear to ear like a child. Being out in the countryside, admiring the scenery, refreshes the head and soul.

On top of that cycling has brought me into contact with so many amazing people. I just need to make the effort to arrange a ride and I’m sure I’ll have company on a Sunday morning. I’m also going to be entering some races between now and the end of the year. Having recalibrated my expectations, I just want to see some progression, but it has given me something to focus on.

Nowhere to sit - Torq Breakout Round 2

In my previous blog I moaned about the frustration of finishing in 11th. I should have kept quiet because it certainly isn't as frustrating as having a DNF next to you name in the results.

Last Saturday began with the aim of making the top ten. Half way through the race things weren't going quite to plan, but my hopes of a strong finish were about to derail completely. In the congestion at the start of the race there had been a minor hold up just ahead of me when a rider had gone done in the dirt. I'd had a wobble myself taking avoiding action, but it hadn't been much and everything seemed fine; except my saddle felt a little bit wobbly.

90 minutes later I had settled into the race. My motivation had recovered from taking a hit after loosing places and slipping back in the field early on. I was feeling strong now and ready to go on the offensive and get those positions back. I had a rider close behind who I had just passed and on a short steep uphill I was trying to make a break for it, when I suddenly collapsed in a heap on the ground. I hit the tree on my left, but I believe this was the result of the saddle suddenly slipping as I was pushing hard on the pedals. 

I scrambled back to my feet and went to leap on the bike when I noticed my saddle wasn't on the seatpost anymore. I picked it up and stood there for a while in an adrenaline fuelled daze, clutching the saddle in my hand, my mind refusing to accept that my days racing might be over. There was no bodge or fix that was going to work and hope to survive for the remaining 90 minutes of brutal racing. The only option was the long walk back to car. I'd rather have been 11th.

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