Kingswood CX races

The last two months:

"Hey, Shannon -- come on out for a ride."

"Naw -- I gotta go out and do throw-up intervals. Better off alone for those."

"Huh?"

"Hey Shannon -- meet us for a ride."

"Naw, I'm running today."

"Wha--?"

"Hey Shannon, are you even there?"

"Naw, I'm training for 'cross -- I'm on another planet. Planet Pain."

Came out of hiding to double up at Kingswood last weekend, and see if all those intervals and runs and more intervals and practice dismounts and more intervals had added up to anything. Turns out that even when you prepare, 'Cross still hurts -- a lot!

And it's still fun -- a lot!

Saturday: Warm, sunny, dry, and dusty: lined up in the second row with 40+ cat4s and took off like a madman at the whistle. I was sitting in top ten when at one of the first turns a rider swung way wide and almost knocked me off the course. With that I was gapped from the frontrunners, and spent the rest of the race making up ground and losing it back. I made it up on straightaways and up hills -- the power was pretty good. I lost it on turns and (especially) in the sandpit, where the two times I tried to ride I went down. At the start of the 4th lap (of 5) I was by myself, missed a right turn in my anaerobic haze, and went off course, breaking the tape. Lost a few places there. On the final lap I ended up with one other rider -- he pulled away a little, but I closed it down in a twisty section (ironic, huh), and led through the last turn to the finish line. I thought leading out of the turn would be good, since the sprint was pretty short, but I didn't have much left, I hit a bump pretty hard, and the one-chainring thing drops the top-end a bit -- or he was just faster, and he pipped me at the line. Somewhere top-15 overall, 3rd in 35+ cat 4s.

Sunday: Opposite day: cool, grey, rainy, and slick. Lined up in the fourth row of 115 racers (!) behind a tiny junior. Did okay on the hole shot, and was far enough ahead to miss the carnage on the hill. From Jeffrey's photos, it looks like this was where field separation really took place. I was slow and tentative on corners and the off-camber stuff, but the sandpit was a piece of cake (the course ran in the opposite direction Sunday, meaning that the lip that took me down twice yesterday was more of a launchpad into the pit today). I was pleased with my race, and started moving up through riders. Found myself on the wheel of another junior (those young guys are solid) on a long straightaway before the runup. I was gathering speed, he was losing a bit, and I stupidly crossed wheels with him. I went down hard, and lost all the places I had just madeup. I got up and kept racing, pretty much holding my position but cursing my stupidity -- I had determined to ride a smarter race Sunday, and I was doing it in all the ways I thought I should. And then I went and made a total roadie mistake by crossing wheels. Grrr. Still, 8th in 35+ cat 4s, somewhere mid-20s overall.

Tuesday evening: No, no race Tuesday, but that's when I discovered (while wiping down my frame) that my right seatstay is cracked almost all the way through. Fortunately I've got at least one weekend with no races scheduled to find a new setup.