glaw-ster ramblins

So, I raced. Raced the Killer Bs.

Didn’t get there as early as I wanted,

Didn’t get as much of a warm up

Raced

Tires – awesome

3rd lap started feeling better

Did battle with the annies

Running felt good

Met megA but then never saw her again

Saw CTodd… didn’t see him much

Worked the pits for Christine V…

Got to play with the coolest air pump
(bosch)

Yelled my head off at the Elite Men… running around in my MDOT orange jumpsuit

Tired now…
Eating kozy shack

Saw Shannon, wondered where the hell he went in the race – maybe I was yelling at him too much

Will flush out more later

Bed time

Gonna rub the legs down with some Arnica… they are wicked damn sore…

Sprinted for 70th… just had to catch and beat the guy in front of… as he was so hard pressed to catch and pass me…

Someone stacked upinside

Will write more tomorrow

So those were a few late night thoughts after the race. I finally got the youngest to take a nap. It’s a great holiday. Time to relax… clean the mold spores off the books from storage. Play, read books.

A million things to say… how to get them all out?

I hope the guy that put his lever into my hamstring and then went over his bars wasn’t the guy from Ontario. That would suck. Not that it would suck more or less if it was anyone else. I hope he’s okay, who ever that was.

The flow of the race. Took me a lap or two to get the flow. The first two laps were people people people. I got passed by too many I think. I had a decent start. Kept it clean, but rode conservatively and edged back on the aggression in all but a few places. The Dust killed me. That was bad on the back stretch there. But that is also where I was able to make up meters upon meters on the guys in front of me. Also nice to ride away from the single chainring guys. Guys who shouldn’t be using them. Chris Burke used a single but he didn’t use a 39. I had a 38-49… didn’t drop much out of the biggest three cogs in the back… 38- up to 49… back down… back up… I liked having the 11 teeth difference with one shift… two speeds on the bike might have worked fine on that course.

Taking the turns, taking them crazy fast, never braking for them. In fact I don’t know if I really used my brakes much at all outside the bannered areas, sella Italia, ridely, and the run up… Brakes were barely touched anywhere. The tires hooked up like nothing else. I could hear, just as Curtis said, the grass ripping but no loss in traction. Flying through the corners like I was hanging on the back of the Bob Beal crit guys… picking my line this time and having crazy confidence. A new feeling. Very cool. That course is awesome. No wonder Treefarm kicked serious ass. Too bad for Tim Johnson, but I believe the outcome might not have been any different.

On note I made later, was, well I didn’t have any tunes in my head. I think I had ever mental cell focused on the task at hand… working hard to find the reserves. Needed to work harder in the first two or three laps, but after that it all started klicking. Legs got fired up, my nose started running and that wetted my lips just enough to forget the parched feeling. I started to feel fast… But I did get caught but a couple of folks, was hanging on their wheels in many sections, was making up time, esp in the sandpit. I felt I could fly through there. And I could generally get through there 2x faster than the guys I was with. And not feel that effort after getting on the bike. That was remarkable for me. Getting off the bike and running didn’t seem to adversely affect the cycling legs. But, granted… the 4th and 5th time up the barriers. Man was I running with lead feet.

The final sprint for 70th place surprised me. Although I guess it shouldn’t have. Because I had a carrot. I had a marker up the road. A ways up, 5-6 bike lengths once on the pavement… but I was able to eat it up, he was sprinting too, but, somehow I pulled it off and blasted past. I don’t want to say it but it felt like I could sprint. Like if I could juts get to the end of a crit, or to the front for a prime, that no one could beat me…. But then the whole issue for me would be to get to that point and that place and be in a position to unleash what I may or may not have bottled up. Save it for the beginning of the cross race… I rode well below my power threshold and aerobic threshold at the start. Why? Because there were a helluva lot a squirrels and probably a few thinking I’m a bit squirrelly. Thinking back I shoulda buried myself up the hill, I could have gained 20 or more places and then recovered through the downhill corners, where I felt unstoppable, I passed a handful of guys on those corners.

The race fired me up. I so want to go to Maine, but I do need to set the priorities straight. I can’t take the time away from here to spend the whole weekend racing, as much as I would have liked.

I will say that the New England cross fans are lame. Quiet, and BOOOOOORING. WTF is up with the mild “Yeah, go” clap clap cow bell cow bell… where’s the yelling the shouting the screaming the heckling? The integral parts of cross in my mind? Eh?

I did my part. I suited up. I wore my oil stained MDOT (Michigan not mass btw) Orange coveralls. Carried my box of munchkins. And I yelled, screamed, shouted, called them slow, called them weak, told them to suck it up and get the hell up there, heckled and cheered. And I cheered hard for the PacNW boys. You got it. I found that while I am a New England guy now. I had to yell loudest for the Northwest roll call:
WickNasty
Shannon vanilla-KozyShack Skerrit
And
Loudest of all for:
Treefarm. Freaking Treefarm. 30seconds talking to him was cool. He’s tall… the thing with me meeting other tall folks is that often I wonder, do I seem as tall to them as they seem to me? They sometimes seem taller. Maybe I’ve gotten shorter. Its just amazing watchin him.

The woman’s race. The race I watched from the pits… walking from side to side, waiting and hoping that there wouldn’t be a need for Christine’s spare bike. Or the spare wheels. There wasn’t. I did space out on one pass. Why? I was waiting for our favorite, the queen, the gal who essentially was the inspiration for me to get a bit more regular with this web log thing, after she got a big link from DC. Who? Duh, KL of course. Didn’t take much to follow the links she had to the rest of the “crew” and now, now we have a competition. A competition that I’m not almost hoping I don’t have a chance to win. Although, the courses may still not suit me as well as I felt the Gloucester one did. Sure. I only managed 70th out 98 finishers and 108 starters and 122 registrants, but… to me, going in, maybe with safe goals, but a goal first, not to get lapped, and second to have fun, and third, to see how I measured up in the B race. If you take the race, and say divide the field of 98 into Cat2/3 ie 49 Cat 2s and 49 Cat 3s… that’d put me in 20th in the back half. Ratioing it up against Mt A, and the other stuff I’ve done, even not dividing the field up arbitrarily into Cat 2 and 3s… it’s a good step for me. Question then becomes, do I continue to race in the b field, or do I race the B masters? Maybe I have to try a double one of these days. Do both? Or not. Maybe I’ll save that for next year.
I don’t have any pics from the race. Maybe there’ll be some shots of the guy in the MDOT jumpsuit yelling and screaming…

Maybe there are a few shots of the tall freak in the Prov Velo skinsuit with the orange and blue helment. My sack was well contained by the addition of a set of bibs under the skinsuit. Helped immensely. That and it was hot enough there that I just had a pair of skivvies on under the coveralls. As the weather cools I should be able to maintain the same outward appearance of coveralls. It was a pleasant surprise to be able to fit into the small pair as well.

Oh and a quick “great to meet you” to Rebecca. Here’s to hoping for continued chances to talk to and meet the really fantastic group of NE cross racers. Even if they all suck as cross spectators ;)

No linkage above – apologies – written offline…