Cycloinsanity

There were a couple of important lessons I learned while participating in Saturday’s cyclocross race, the most important being my leisurely afternoon bike rides around Polson are a poor substitute for the training necessary to actually compete in a cyclocross race.

The second lesson is that cyclocross racers are extremely encouraging, even if that encouragement is somewhat of a bald-faced lie.

Cyclocross is the love child of mountain biking, road racing and craziness. Basically, it’s Satan-inspired merriment and huge amounts of fun.

True competitors take the lightweight frame and thin tires of the road bike and slap some nubbies on the tires, like the kind found on your mountain variety. To the casual observer, it appears as though racers are using road bikes on a course clearly better-suited for mountain bikes.

Not being a true competitor, I borrowed a mountain bike from my peer, Sasha Goldstein, and saved my poor hybrid city/touring bike the rigors of the course. I’d say mistake number two, after my poor training regimen, was not adjusting the bike to my height. Sasha and I are pretty much the same height, but judging by his bike set-up, he’s taller in the torso and it was pretty uncomfortable for me to reach so far to the handlebars. The peddles were a little too short for me, but the jumping on and off the bike made that a blessing.

After getting a run-down of the course Friday afternoon when I tagged along with sports editor Heidi Hanse during her preview, I was nervous, but confident I could conquer the rumpus.

Such bold confidence has never been more ill-founded.

For the three days between my decision to ride the race and the race itself, I absorbed articles on the Internet, YouTube videos and every scrap of advice I could gather on the sport I’d only heard whispers about.

On race day itself, I prepared with a delightful chocolate chip Clif Bar and got some last minute advice from a more seasoned rider.

She advised a quick start in order to demoralize the competition. Of course, the quick start is probably not as important as a solid rest of the race.

Still, I lined up on the line with six other “first-timers” and jetted off as the whistle blew.

Quick start, check.

For the first quarter of the first lap, I was solidly in the middle. On the first hill, I actually would’ve appreciated those in front going a smidge faster so I didn’t lose so much momentum. I hit the rugged “rumpus” and sailed into the down-hill-up-hill “W” with relative ease.

Then came what I’ve come to call my Everest of the race. I am only vaguely speaking metaphorically as, using various movies, books and documentaries as research, I’m sure this hill was as steep as many climbs on the actual mountain.

Granted this particular incline was only 25 feet, a generous estimate, and I’m pretty sure I cheated when I pushed the bike up instead of carrying it. I’m also quite sure I’m not the only person who did not like that particular part of the course.

Immediately following the up hill was an-equally steep downhill. Now, to the casual observer, I seemed to be a coward for walking the bike down, not riding. However, I was being smart. With that steep a decline, you have to keep your weight way back on the bike to keep from flipping. Sasha’s bike was too big for me, and to lean back I couldn’t reach the handle bars. I didn’t want to be that one racer that flips the bike on that hill and have everyone gasp, and think to themselves, “oh my gosh, is she okay?” while trying to stifle their laughter. I just didn’t want to be that girl.

Instead, I was the girl that entered the corral backwards and got lost on a marked course. It occurs to me that no one would be the wiser, however, I value honesty, especially in the newspaper.

Which gets me back to the lying cyclocross encouragers. I truly appreciate the “good jobs” I received while riding the course, but I also would’ve accepted a chorus of “you suck.” I probably would’ve given a thumbs up, kept riding and yelled over my shoulder “thanks for the honesty.”

But, that definitely isn’t the sports culture. So as much as I like honesty, thank you so much for lying to me, it did make me feel better.

As much as I sucked, I like to think every race needs someone like me. I’m the person that makes the rest of the field feel better about themselves.

Despite my laughable performance, I had a blast doing this race. It was absolutely some of the most fun I’ve had on a bike. However, much to the relief of both myself and the members of Five Valley Velo, I will definitely train and prepare a little better before I once again embark on a cyclocross adventure.