Perspective

Tonight I was looking through the Garmin files of workouts and races I did last CX season, which was my best so far.  I wanted to see what my all-time fastest CX race was.

Well guess what? It's the Elm Creek race we just did on Sunday in which I managed to not get last place and was a big source of frustration.  Yes the course was fast, but there are similar courses out there.  My second fastest CX race ever was one of the Tuesday Night races last year when they set up the course with a lot of straightaways.  I also didn't do so well at that race, but the next week I got 3rd when they added some turns.

That may not prove anything, but it means I am probably not slower than I was last year, which is significant because I was training a lot more last year.  From the start of my race season on September 25 to the MN State championships, I took a total of 3 days off the bike.  Some days I only rode the trainer for 15-20 minutes, but I was averaging more hours per week in October 2010 than any month so far this year.

Last year I was in the mix with guys who are now (or should be) Cat 2s, so once I start training again things will come around.
   

Power outage

After another CX race today, I realized that I was mostly incorrect in attributing my poor CX performance to a lack of bike-handling confidence.  That may have been partially true for these first few races, but after switching to alloy rims and aftermarket brake pads, the bike is much easier to control and carrying speed into a corner is much less frightening.  So the bike handling issues are not really hindering me anymore. It's something else; far simpler but harder to fix.

Today we raced around a long loop on ski trails.  A dirt crit as they say.  That is probably the worst kind of race for me. I try pretty hard not to get into the "horses for courses" mind game but it happens.  Last year I found that I simply race better when the conditions are bad or there are more turns and obstacles.  I am not a powerhouse, so mud, snow, barriers, and turns that slow down the roadies help keep me in the race.

Today's race had 2 or 3 turns in it. It was a big sweeping loop.  There were barriers but you could go into them at 30 mph if you wanted to. 

I feel that I'm in good shape currently.  The problem is, that's relative to a lot of things.  I can do a mountain bike race where handling skills make a significant difference and endurance comes into play at some point.  It's punchy but you get a break occasionally.  If you stay smooth and consistent and don't make mistakes you stand a chance to do well. My high-end fitness is lacking, but that will change to some degree if I continue to race 'cross.

The heart of the problem is that I upgraded. 

It's tough for me to endure the kind of beating I've been taking in CX this year.  The simple truth is that I'm racing against faster guys now, and it's going to be harder.  I can no longer just show up and be in the mix.  That kind of sucks.

Singletrack Escape

After my debacle in last Tuesday's CX race, I needed a confidence boost.  A mountain bike race on some tight, twisty singletrack was precisely what I needed. The Singletrack Escape on the Jail Trail in St. Cloud provided exactly that.

After last Tuesday I decided to bail on going to Madison for the USGP CX race despite it easily being my favorite CX race.  I didn't feel ready to spend the time and money on a race discipline that wasn't going well for me yet.  The mountain bike was holding my attention at the moment so it seemed natural to go to the last MNMBS series race.  The first and last time I rode the Jail Trail was in 2008 at my first MNSCS race.  I entered the Sport race, and since I was a staunch SS proponent at the time I entered the SS State Championship, thinking a top 10 would be no problem.  I think I got 15th or 16th, not realizing that a lot of Experts and such were racing SS that day only.  I was definitely hooked on the Series races right away; the participation is great and mountain bikers are laid back people, making for a good atmosphere and fun riding.

Today I would be racing Comp on my Top Fuel.  Total about-face from what I was riding 3 years ago.  The Jail Trail is a perfect course for a 26" full suspension bike.  It's very tight, twisty, requires constant acceleration and deceleration, and the low-hanging trees mean you are frequently ducking through corners and leaning hard.  It's rooty and has some challenging rock gardens.  It's a great trail!  3 years ago I don't remember liking it as much, but the Top Fuel loves a course like that. Point and shoot.

After watching Brendan Moore destroy the SS race on his converted Top Fuel with something like 42x16 gearing (!) and seeing teammates Jeff and Ian post solid 6th and 7th places, it was time to line up.  Participation was down from the other races. No idea why; the weather and course conditions were perfect.  With some CX mentality ingrained in me already, I made a big push to get to the front of my wave on the long prologue.  I remember from 3 years ago that traffic jams were a big problem, so I worked hard to get into the single track in good position, which I did.

Photo by Jay Richards, Courtesy of Skinnyski

As soon as we got into the single track it was like coming home.  Throwing the bike around the trees, rocks and roots is becoming second nature and just feels right.  I concentrated on riding smooth and light but also keeping steady power on the pedals.  I felt great.  I was regularly catching riders (our wave started last) and never conceded a position that I didn't eventually get back.  The rocks seemed to be ruining the race for a few people; I saw numerous dropped chains, flats and heard of some nasty face-plants.

It was a short race; 2 laps and a finishing time of 1:15 for me.  I won the 25-29 age group (only 5 riders today) and had my best overall result of the MNMBS season.  I had a rough go at my first Comp race but have been progressing all year.  That's something I'm proud of, because I haven't really reached a plateau yet.  Year-to-year I've been seeing improvements and hope to keep that going.

So it was great to be racing the MTB again and getting some confidence back.  Sometimes I need a bad race to motivate me and remind me that one bad race doesn't mean anything. Unfortunately the MTB season is nearly over now; just one Hillside night race left.  That will probably be a good thing as I will finally have to accept it and get into CX 100 percent.  I am looking forward to it more now that I've proven to myself that I'm racing well.  
 



   

Even Todd Wells says so....

In my last entry I wrote about my difficulties adapting to the CX bike.  Interestingly, National Champion in everything, Todd Wells, says the same thing:

I don't know what it is about switching from the MTB to the CX bike but I usually lay it down a few times early in the CX season...I'm surprised I don't have more crashes in the beggining of the CX season. I am usually seeing cross eyed for the whole race just trying to hold the wheel in front of me. In other words I'm riding over my head on a bike that is completely different then my MTB and I'm trying to make up time in the more technical sections because I'm flat out on the pedaling sections.

For me, yesterday's CX race was no better than the first; it was worse.  I think it was the first time I've gotten last place in a bike race (I got last place in an XC ski race last year).

To summarize the race: I started at the back.  The race got away from me really fast.  There were approximately 120 turns per lap.  I couldn't tell where I was supposed to go thanks to the stingy use of course tape.  Got lapped.  Pedaled around lightly through all the wrong lines so as not to screw up the people who were racing.  Got lapped again.

To quote Commander Mike "Viper" Metcalf in one of the great movies of all time: "You have a confidence problem."  I did feel a tad more comfortable on the CX bike, but not significantly.  I am going to switch back to aluminum rims in hopes it will give me more consistent braking power and modulation.

If Joey had a mountain bike, he could've just bunnyhopped that barrier...


   

  




 

Transitioning to CX, plus a TNC report

On Tuesday I (literally) dusted off the CX bike and drove down to St. Louis Park after work for the Tuesday Night CX training race.  After a nice summer of mountain biking adventures and doing a lot of races that are new to me, I've been reluctant to make the switch to CX.  It seems many people yearn for CX as summer winds down, but I tend to stay immersed in mountain biking until it is truly over, usually around late September.

Last year I solidified my intentions to focus more energy on CX than mountain bike racing.  My main reason for this was because it's much easier to be in shape for CX.  Simply racing once or twice a week gets you a long way.  The first races might totally suck but the season is 2 solid months long. At the start of my 2009 CX season, I had absolutely no fitness whatsoever in September and was getting nearly last place finishes, but had my best result to that point at Jingle Cross in November.

This year I am reconsidering my intentions.  I like mountain biking, a lot.  CX seems like such a lame joyride around a park when compared to mountain biking.  I will probably be singing a different tune in October, but seriously, paying $25-35 to ride in contorted circles on a grassy, lumpy field is tough to swallow.  I can race a number of local MTB trails for $10, on legitimate, well-built singletrack.  I like CX for its atmosphere and spectators, and it is nice to switch sports after a while.  I really enjoy high-class events like Jingle Cross and the USGPs, but even those are $35 for a 45 minute race.  I just raced in the Black Hills for 5 hours, with heaps of free food at 5 rest stops with super nice volunteers, plus free tacos, beer, and a commemorative T-shirt, all for a $60 entry fee. That's tough to beat.

So, my mindset coming into my first CX race (and ride) of the year was a little on the aloof side.  I had just spent the previous Sunday morning at Cuyuna on my 5" travel trail bike and was now about to ride a rigid, glorified road bike with 34 mm tires and nearly useless brakes on a bumpy-ass field trying not to get lapped by guys like Doug Swanson.

I shouldn't make it sound so bad.  Given this was my third Cat 3 race ever and I was also racing 1's and 2's, I was not in a position to budge my way to the front of the pack at the start. So I started at the back, which will never (ever) work in a CX race.  

Photo by Rich Spielberg.

The worst part about all this is that I felt great.  I could push my legs as hard as I wanted and not make them hurt.  This is a rare feeling I think.  But I couldn't handle the bike at all.  When you spend about 5 months riding hydraulic disc brakes, cantilevers on carbon rims feels like no brakes at all.  I did not trust the bike in corners.  I was yo-yoing around corners the entire race; sprinting out of them but grabbing brake all the way in. Not smooth at all.

The best part of the race (believe it or not) was when the leaders Doug and CJ lapped me.  A little upset at how I was riding, I decided I would glue myself to Doug's wheel and see how long I could hang on.  I wanted to know where these guys were better than me, neglecting the obvious things like talent, experience and practice.  I think they were playing cat and mouse, because for at least half a lap I was able to stay on Doug's wheel.  Because of my terrible cornering I had to sprint harder to catch back up, but it was only moderately harder than when I was riding alone. Finally they discovered I was hanging on and they seemed to speed up through an off camber downhill and left me grabbing fistfulls of brake.  I will be an early adopter when hydraulic discs become available on CX bikes/wheels.

So I am simultaneously discouraged and encouraged about the CX season.  I seem to have a good amount of endurance currently, thanks to many longer mountain bike races; the last two 50 miles each.  I am lacking some intensity but that'll be easy to come by now.  The missing piece as of now is feeling comfortable on the CX bike and learning to handle it again.   

Last season was a good season for me so I have higher expectations now.  I feel as though I've learned how to race and will eventually get to where I want to be.  I feel strong, and that's all I need.  

       

   

Cuyuna Version 6.0

Today I made my sixth trip to the awesome mountain bike trails at Cuyuna.  It is easily my favorite trail system in MN.  While there are a number of decent climbs and corresponding descents, the technical sections are a big draw for me.  There are multiple sections in the trail that completely baffle me.  I also like the trail surface in general; there is something fascinating about how you can have infinite traction one minute and be skimming across the scree the next.  There is an unnerving feeling when your tires start squirming around on the rocks that makes it a unique ride.

Given how much hype the trail was getting prior to opening, I was just a little skeptical about how great it would be.  I was prepared for a lot of difficult climbs and heard about some extended descents and possibly even dedicated "downhill runs."

During my first ride in May I was pleasantly surprised at how well the trail was laid out.  There are some climbs, but they are either steady and manageable or broken up to reduce the difficulty.  There are only a few that I would call moderately challenging; the rest are not really noticeable.  The downhills are great; some taking many minutes to complete, and if linked properly one can ride downhill for quite a while.   Overall the trail is a great mix of riding; some flat fast sections, some really gnarly technical sections, and some 25+ mph descents with big rollers. You can easily ride all day long and not get bored, and only need to repeat sections here and there. The scenery is great, and the lakes make for a great post-ride swim.

While riding in the Black Hills last week, I found myself comparing the riding there to the Cuyuna trails.  The fact that I was comparing the two says something about the quality of Cuyuna.  There were many times during the Dakota 5-0 that I was thinking Cuyuna is more fun.  The Dakota 5-0 trails are beautiful and challenging, and present real mountain riding.  But the trails are rustic, pretty wide open and fairly easy to manage technical-wise.  During the race I was often hoping for rockier or tighter trails.  I think of Cuyuna as a mountain bike park, designed and built for the best riding experience possible. Many of the Dakota 5-0 trails felt more like cow paths than bike trails.  Don't get me wrong, Dakota was a unique experience and a beautiful ride, but Cuyuna is right up there if you ask me.

I took some photos with my pile of a cell phone while riding today.  I rode for 2 hours and tried to hit some of the trails I've seen least, and some of the ones I like best.

 

The EX9 ready to go

An overlook on the way to the eastern side of the park

At the top of Bobsled, one of the highlights of the system

A small lake with Trout in it.  The water is unbelievably clear.

A view of one of the technical sections I can't ride cleanly.  Sometime I can't even see where to go.

The view at the top of Sandhog Mountain. The descent from here is one of the best.

Dakota 50

I made the decision to race the Dakota 50 on January 1, 2011.  Registration was capped at 600 entrants so my desire to shirk commitment was set aside so I could be assured a place in the race.  I had heard very good things about the race, mostly the fact that it was a "real mountain bike race" and had excellent singletrack in addition to real mountains and associated scenery. 

The above photo is one I took just after the Bacon Station on a twisty section of singletrack that descends down quite a ways.  I believe the peak in the photo is Crow's Peak, the namesake of the local brewery that gave us free ale after the race.  Much obliged, sirs.

My teammates Jeff and Martin and I arrived in Spearfish on Friday evening after about 10 hours in the car.  My Top Fuel made numerous attempts to escape the clutches of the bike rack, but was mostly unsuccessful, merely succeeding in giving me heartburn and a short case of depression.  After eating an abundance of nutrient-and-mineral-rich Americana at the local eatery within walking distance of the hotel, it was off to the department store to pick up some XXXL boys swimwear for use in the hot tub later.  They didn't carry men's swimwear so the next largest thing had to suffice.  They fit pretty well and were on sale. The bike racer's standby meal ingredients (a loaf of bread and almond butter and fruit preserves) were also purchased.

Saturday morning Martin and I rode out to the race course to recon.  The 3 mile climb up the gravel road to the singletrack was a reasonable challenge.  A good steady rhythm was easy to get into.  I figured once we got to the singletrack I'd settle into my usual comfort zone and get busy railing some turns and punching it up some rollers, etc.  Not so.  The climbing continued for a long time.  The trail peaks out at 6500 feet, so oxygen does start to become scarcer up there.  Maybe it was my head but I felt not so good; I had to breathe pretty deep and quick even at a snail's pace.  I have an aversion to riding hard the day before a race, so the result was slow riding by me.

After a short descent and a very close encounter with two very large but cognizant and courteous bulls, we finally got to the first planned aid station where shortcuts could be taken to see other parts of the trail.  To keep things short we rode the Bacon Station, the aforementioned part of the course where climbing is mostly over and the descent to town begins.  By this time I felt much better and was back in my element going down hills and flats. 

In all we rode 30 miles in 3 hours on Saturday.  This is not my ideal pre-ride but it was about as short as we could do it without the benefit of a car, and it turned out to be an excellent thing to know the bookends of the course.  We rested the rest of the day so recovery time was aplenty.  Another nice huge burger and fries meal on Saturday night made sure we had enough protein and carbs to recover overnight.

We watched Parts 1 and 2 of the epic mini-series Lonesome Dove for the first time Saturday night.  Quite the show I must say.  All the talk about cattle and plains and river crossings was more appropriate than I first thought.

The slight climb up to the first aid station

Getting ready for the race Sunday morning was reminiscent of CX season, with temps at about 42°F.  Arm warmers were not enough for standing around but turned out to be comfortable all day.  I slotted in near the back of the pack at the start, thinking the gravel climb would be a natural selector and I would fit right in where I should be come singletrack time.

Wrong.  I had a decent pace up the climb but once in the singletrack it was traffic jam time.  My natural reaction at this point in any race is to blast past anyone even remotely in the way, but it was not possible.  Long trains of people as far as one could see.  Finally I gradually moved up enough to move from group to group and found one that seemed to go at a reasonable pace.  By this time I was feeling better than yesterday and wanted to ride fast but was leery of pushing too hard, so I stayed with groups going slower than I wanted.  This was the trend for the day for me. I'm still a rookie at these long races so I haven't figured out my ideal pace yet, and I err on the side of caution.

I stopped at the first aid station (10 miles in) to fill my bottle and start mixing Perpetuem.  The group I was with kept going so I caught up to them again.  This was also a theme.  I don't like wearing a SloshyBack so I was okay with stopping for 30 seconds at each station to refill my bottle, a decision I don't regret but if one was truly trying to do well at a race like this a CamelSack or personal assistant would be faster.  The volunteers at the stations were awesome, asking me what I wanted and getting it promptly.  Class acts, all of them.  A surprising amount of spectators were around too.  

The next 10 miles began as a mix of bumpy doubletrack grass descents and other non-singletrack road things.  Then the climbing began again, up some ridiculously steep grades.  My 28T small ring and 32T cog were no match.  Walking hurts but was unavoidable once the first person in line dabs.  The trail then peaks on a mountain called Old Baldy, which faces the Spearfish Canyon.  I did not get a picture of this part but it was one of the better views.  This was also a fun part of trail with some slightly technical rocky areas.

Past the second aid station was where I was most alone, which was a nice change.  After a fun descent on rolling banked turns, we were treated to some MN-style punchy twisty singletrack.  I felt at home until we climbed again, shortly after the third station.  I knew there was a long climb somewhere and decided this particular one must be it.  Wrong again.  After cresting that one we descended some really fast fire roads where I almost lost it launching off a ledge. The fourth aid station came up quick thanks to the speed of this section.  

My Garmin battery had died somewhere around this time but I knew it was past the point when the leaders were finishing.  At this point I was no longer concerned about my placing.  People were flying by me on the sketchy fire road descents and I didn't care.  My head was never really in it; I wanted to enjoy the riding above all else.  A race of this length with 7000 feet of climbing is such an unknown for me I had a hard time motivating myself to race.  The irony of this is that I absolutely hate not racing while in a race.  Sometimes I can't get out of my own way.

The fourth station was at the base of the big climb.  I mean long.  It seemed to never end.  It started moderately steep, then leveled off, then got really steep.  Then leveled off, then got steep.  Then it was the Bacon Station.  

 

For the rest of the ride I let people pass if they came up on me.  It was not worth screwing around and playing passing games.  I enjoyed riding alone and at a pace where I could float through the trail rather than hack it at race pace.  I still felt good physically but was mentally checked out. I rolled into town from the gravel roads and promptly ate some complimentary tacos. 

I finished in 5:11.  I had hoped to be under 5 hours, but with my dead Garmin I had no idea what my time was while on course.  I think it would have been possible but am not losing sleep over it.  I feared I would be over 6 hours so at least I earned my place in the "Racer Wave." 

All in all it was a great event.  The production and support was top-notch and free food and beer can't be beat. The price was very fair considering what you get and the "realness" of the race.  I highly recommend this event.