I asked a buddy yesterday if he misses racing bikes. He told
me no, essentially because he’s either all in or all out; he wouldn’t be
content just racing for fun. (And life wouldn’t allow him to be all in).
In the men’s Koksijde CX world cup race yesterday, the current world champion had all types of mechanical issues, causing him to fall back from the leader and slip off the podium. He battled back to take third place. He didn’t have much fun (his words, not mine), but given the challenges, he must have been content with his finish (my words, not his).
Saturday morning I did a slow course pre-ride with Brent.
Chatting about features of the Redcross course; what climbs to run vs. ride; recommended
lines. Roksi felt ready to rock. But after a proper warm up, turns out Roksi is
a liar. A few last minute tweaks to my shifting, I hoped for the best and
headed to the start for my call up. Best start I’ve ever had in a race, I hit
the barriers in stride in third place. I slipped back a few spots but was still
very well positioned for a top-10. And then I wasn’t. On what seemed like every
climb, my rear cassette and chain were playing out a lover’s quarrel Chain: sorry
inner cog, let’s cuddle and make up. 28-tooth cog: GET OFF OF ME, I NEED SPACE!
25-tooth cog: HEY, DON’T COME CRYING TO ME. GET OUTTA HERE. And so it went. I had to ease off the power
and climb in a harder gear, overcooking the legs while getting passed. A whole
lot. Final result: 17th place. Rather than trust my own mechanical
(ahem) skills, I stopped at the bike shop for a quick look-over by a
professional on our way home. Thanks to the Giant mechanic who got Roksi dialed
in at no cost. Also, I almost walked out the shop with a brand new cyclocross
bike. Almost.
Finally getting used to these call-ups, I had another fast start
at Sunday’s School of Cross race. Tackling virtually the same course, I felt
confident of a top-10 result. And it started off that way. Sitting top-10
through 2.5 laps, I lead a group of four up a run up. Remounted and took one pedal
stroke. Didn’t move forward. Dismount. Put my chain back on. Remount. Give
chase to the six guys who just passed me. I caught a couple. Closed the gap to
others. Saw the gap re-open. Held the gap steady to my chasers. Discontentment
overpowered contentment. One final effort to the line. Another missed
opportunity. Another fun opportunity. 12th place.
Had you told me in early September I’d realistically be
battling for a top-10 place almost every race, I would most likely have been
content with that prospect. But as the season winds down, I’d say it’s closer to
contented discontentment. I don’t know what that means, but I think it means I'll keep striving to get faster. But I'll have fun along the way.
