Moronacity

Yesterday’s cyclocross race at Marquette’s Tourist Park marked the end of the regular cross season for the UP Cyclocross Series. We were fortunate enough to have dry weather – a contrast to the predicted rain showers we were expecting.

After last week’s cyclocross weekend in the Keweenaw, my confidence was completely crushed and I felt like I didn’t belong. Cross hurt too much and I just didn’t have the lungs for it…at least that’s what I thought.

Yesterday, I approached the race with, well, a vengeance – an attitude much more like that of my usual competitive self. I didn’t get the full eight hours of sleep, but Saturday was filled with rest and healthy food. I awoke, packed, and met my team for the carpool shortly before 11 am. As we neared Tourist Park, I put on my final layers of cycling clothing. Upon parking, I made way for the registration table to check in, and grabbed my bike as soon as it was released from the bike rack. This is where the race really started.

I’ve finally reached a level of racing where the shorter, faster races, such as cyclocross, require a warm-up period. I hopped on my bike and rode out of the park to the nearest party store to use their bathroom. Yes, a true weight weenie will make sure their other bladder is completely empty. Of course, I wasn’t using a Camelbak that day, so I guess you could say it was my only bladder. Ha ha. I made a funny. You should be laughing, now. Anyway…

The first hurdle was a fallen birch tree. Most of the men hopped this tree with great finesse, but the women’s race treated it as any other cyclocross hurdle with a rolling dismount and running remount.

I rode around the park at an easy pace with some sprints sprinkled in. When the start time was near, I simply rode around the Start/Finish area practicing my sharp turns and just spinning. I did not want to stop moving my legs until just before the lineup. What was to follow was magic.

As soon as Greg told us to go, I sprinted off the line with another girl and the others in hot pursuit. We rode through a sand pit and made a lot of noise as we tried to avoid crashing into each other. We quickly approached the first log, dismounted, ran over it, and remounted. It was almost as if it was effortless, but we all know the truth. I miraculously managed to get in front of her as we headed for the singletrack, and I held onto the first position for the majority of the first lap. It was going well and I couldn’t believe what I was doing!

The Mens A race approaching the hillside hurdles.

On the last third of the course, we traversed a hillside and dismounted to hit the first man-made hurdle. I grabbed my bike and decided to dig down deep in search of that competitive spirit that could keep me running up the hill to the next hurdle. I did it, ran over the second hurdle, up the step, and kept running to remount. I sprinted down the gradual hill to the next section of singletrack, holding onto second place at this point. In the excitement, I dove into singletrack only to quickly realize that it was the wrong one. I hopped off the bike and turned it around to move onto the correct trail and into fourth place.

I slowly lost the lead pack, but knew they weren’t too far ahead of me. The second lap came and I felt myself wanting to slow down, but decided I couldn’t. I found my inspiration in watching the men race, last week. I pictured them riding the course and running over hurdles as if it was for dear life. Their faces were ugly with painful effort and their breathing could be heard – some simply breathing hard, others gasping, yet working through it.

The course traversed along a hillside and switchbacked twice down the hill, over a hurdle, then back up the hill to another hurdle and a step.

I felt my lungs kind of tighten up a little, almost like asthma was on their mind, but I managed to get them to relax as I scooted my butt back almost off of the seat, rocked the top of my pelvis forward, and grabbed the drops. I was on pavement and I needed to get aero, but I also needed to stretch out my abdomen so I could let my lungs expand as much as possible. You see, I think this was the trick. Whenever I race, I think of something I read in a Lance Armstrong book: breathe deeply. Breathing well is so essential to performance. “Breathe deeply,” was what I kept telling myself. This was my mantra for the next lap.

By the last lap, I had been passed by two more people, but I decided to keep going as strongly as possible. As I neared the hill with the two hurdles and the step, I found that I had reached that point when the pain was starting to subside. I was hurting and ready to quit, but I just didn’t feel that raw pain that the first three laps had delivered.

When I finished the last stretch of singletrack and grass, I shifted into my hardest gear and gained a lot of speed to make the final sprint. I made a strong finish to match my strong start.

After my race, I quickly changed clothes and traveled around the race course photographing the Men’s A and B races. The guys definitely provide some exciting photo content:

The race ended with brats and sausages cooked on the grill and paired with everyone’s beverage of choice.

I am still not sure how I did. I think I took 6th place with one or two people behind me. I’ll post the results here when I get them.

Most importantly, I finally gave it all I had. I jumped into that race with a vengeance and proved that, while I wasn’t at the top, I still belonged.

More photos from this year’s cyclocross events can be found at the Red Jacket - Bluesky Health Cycling Teams Forum Photo Gallery.

***

My food choices have been a combination of good and bad. My calorie intake has most certainly been high.

I didn’t reach my exercise goal of ten hours. I did just over seven and am a little disappointed in that. This week hasn’t started off with a bang, either. Today marks the first day and I am not riding. I was going to ride or work out at the gym, but discovered I left my sports bra at home. Not cool. All of my things are still packed and ready to go in my Pathfinder, so I’ll be ready the next time I go into town.