Yesterday, December 31st, 2009, I did my first race on a bike... and surprisingly, I only embarrassed myself a few times, and in the end, held my own.
The tale started the day before, when just after eating a few extra cookies after dinner, Tom emailed me with a link to a New Years Eve Cyclocross event. I felt immediately guilty for having eaten those cookies, and tried to imagine some way that I could get in some high quality training prior to the event, and possibly lose 5 pounds.
Given the fact that the race start was about 12 hours away, I determined that sleep was more important than getting out for some late night intervals.
Actually I didn't sleep that much. My mind was racing long into the night as I tossed and turned. What should I wear? What does a broken collarbone feel like? Am I going to have to pass some kind of test to be allowed to ride in the presence of others?
When I woke up, I actually had convinced myself that I should pass. I had 10 or 15 excuses lined up, ready to go. Stiff legs, too much work, fragile bones...
A phone call sorted me out. Better get out a first race out of the way now, at a race not many people will be at, then one next summer or fall where I'll definitely get my legs ripped off.
So, I pulled the bike out of the shed, poked at it a bit with my seldom used bike tools, collected an array of clothing, packed up the family in the wagon, and headed into the unknown.
Fortunately Tom was at the race, providing advice and reassurance. Julien from Vitess was spectating and gave me a few cheers which was very nice.
I was feeling fairly nervous as Tom and I warmed up around the course. Never having ridden off road more than once I was somewhat surprised at how rough the frozen ground felt. Going through the taped off course, trying to figure which way to turn had my caffeine deprived brain frazzled. I managed to fake my way around the course and sort of keep up. And then my bike appeared to stop shifting.
Embarrassment One - After we finished our warm up lap Tom patiently reminded me that the rear derailleur is operated with the right shifter, not the left as I had been attempting.
Soon after I heard the yell to form up at the start line and I settled into the back row.
I hastily put my helmet back on my head, and managed to do so while keeping my glasses underneath yet on top of my noggin, causing my helmet to sit at a highly nerdish angle. Thus many of the pictures taken by my lovely wife will never see the light of day.
And so, helmet askew, I lined up. Fortunately the field was small, and everyone seemed quite friendly.
I managed to fall in the first turn, embarrassment three, although I wasn't the first to go down, and almost rode into a tree on the second.
By that point the leader were gone, and I latched onto the wheel of someone who looked like they knew what they were doing. My guess was accurate as "Mr CXO" chatted with various onlookers as we passed. I tried my best to copy his moves.
The next 45 minutes were a bit of a blur. I pedaled as best I could, fell a few times, and kept my heart rate up at a respectable 160.
Unfortunately after I fell, it took me 100 m or so to get clipped into my pedals. Embarrassment four. A few people passed me asking if I was having trouble.
And then I nutted myself when I hit a pedal on the bottom of a tree. That was fun.
In the end I came 14th out of 22 people, and was only lapped 5 seconds prior to the winner crossing the line, thus saving me from another lap of rattling around.
The blisters on my hand tell me that I need new gloves, and that my hands are not extra large despite the sales persons assertions. But overall the bike worked well, my fitness was not horrible, and all the trees of Humber Bay park managed to avoid me.
Now that I know what to expect, I'm pumped to get in shape and try and learn how to tackle those off camber turns. You'll see me out at some races next year. You can call me slowdad, but please, make sure I have my helmet on properly.
