New Zealand Cyclocross Champs 2010

Once again, the team at Il Treno Dolore (The Pain Train) put on a top notch event, with excellent support from some generous sponsors, and even the weather played its part this year.

I rolled up just after 10am to sign in and get my kit ready. The bike was ready, having been shod with my trusty second hand CX tyres and flipping the rear wheel onto the freewheel side earlier in the week. True to form, I hadn't changed a thing from last year. Still running too high a gear at 39:18, and I still hadn't trained.
My body was not ready. I'd had two weeks of no training - no reason, just lazy. I was excited to be racing, after hearing that 10 women had entered this year. I was hoping to see some fast women out there, even if it meant coming DFL.

The weather was cool, and when it rained it was c o l d ! The event started off with a fun 'race' to do a bit of course reconnaissance and get warmed up. I cruised through the first lap (or so I thought), and soon discovered that I had forgotten just how hard 'cross racing was! I had nowhere near the required level of skill or ability when it came to leaping over the barriers. And I avoided the rhino pit by taking the slow lane and clambering over two more of those enormous barriers. After one lap I could have easily taken a break, or a beer. But, I continued on to keep warm and learn a few more lines on the ever-changing course.

Each set of tyres that passed over the soft ground would carve another groove into the mud. The tricky part was choosing which grooves to follow, and guessing which ones would suddenly veer left or right as hidden beneath their muddy cloak was a root, a rock, or a newly carved rut.

Chuckie Cross Kids Race

I soon remembered to ride loose and just relax. Let the bike squirm around all it wants, keep some weight over the front to get the bike going in the right direction, and just keep pedalling. Ah yes, pedalling. I was certainly having trouble with the 39:18 gear combo. Ron King wasn't having the same sort of trouble, but then he's Ron. Ron rides. Ron trains. Ron can suffer. I'm just me. I cruised on doing a total of 3 laps and feeling quite warm and ready (and tired) for the race after lunch.

During lunch, the Chuckie Cross kid's race was held. The whole NZCX Champs event was being held as a fund raiser for Charlie 'Chuck' Woodward, to help him and his family through the rest of his chemotherapy treatment for a brain tumour. The kids turned out in force and showed some of us adults the meaning of determination. You try lifting a bike that's 30-50% of your bodyweight over one of those barriers... then do it again, then keep doing for 15 minutes in between riding as fast as you can through thick mud. Awesome effort!

The main race started with only two women lining up amongst the starters. We were spread out across the access track ready to sprint 50m, pluck our bike up off the ground, gracefully leap onto them, and pedal our arses off! Well, it wasn't quite like that; we ran awkwardly in our spd clip-clop shoes, fumbled with our bikes (after tripping over the one next to it), threw a leg over it and somehow got bum on seat and hands on handlebars, then semi-enthusiastically pumped at the pedals to get under way.

Looking forward to the end
Photo: Alan Ofsoski
fotoengineers.com

The fast guys were gone, the next fastest were well under way, or now whizzing past me, and I was hearing all sorts of noises, laughs, jibes and good stuff that ensured a smile spread across my face. I thought, "here we go. How long is this race? 50 minutes? And then another lap?? Oh man, this is going to be hard. But, I'm here now, just enjoy it. Ride to survive, but go fast. Yeah, that's it. Still go fast, too. Where's Helen? Am I in front?! Oh shit, now I have to try and stay here." Or at least something like that.

After two laps I asked Rachel what the time was. "Twenty five minutes." Cool, I'm halfway. So two more laps? Then a bell lap. The cursed bell lap. Ugh. I was tired after just two laps. I'd had a scary moment on the sand chute every time I had ridden down it. First time, got too close to the edge of the timber ramp and almost pulled a rail slide (scary!). Second time, toe-overlap almost got the better of me (big feet or a small bike?). Third time, it was just a muppet moment that had me wobbling down the chute. I was hopping off and running/walking down after that, but it was pretty hard going - the clay at the top was pretty slippery. Still, I figured if I crashed my race could be over. I guess I did think of it as a race. A race against one other woman, and a race against a couple of guys I though might be about the same pace as me.

As I struggled through the last swampy grass section before completing my third lap I saw the other female competitor riding towards me with a full grin saying, "it's easier this way!" I replied with a, "what the...?!!" Helen had retired from the race with failing brakes and a flat tyre (not that she even knew about the flat tyre until afterwards!). I was riding solo.

Dirty. Happy.
Photo: Alan Ofsoski
fotoengineers.com

I carried on, feeling the fatigue setting into my legs and robbing my body and brain of the ability to properly control my bike. I had a couple of tense moments, sliding towards a tree with my front wheel turning left, but still going straight ahead until the tyres found some bite and I changed trajectory. Whew!

My barrier technique was getting worse. It was relatively fluid, but in a slow-motion, stop-motion film, stilted sort of way. (Yeah, it sucked!) After 20 barriers, 0 rhino pits, 5 stair climbs, 5 Hoegaarden hill climbs, countless pushes, some swearing, and an endless grin that morphed into a grimace, I was done. I was the New Zealand Cyclocross Champ.

Apparently the boy's race was pretty exciting. Ken Feist withdrew with a derailleur explosion (just try one gear, Ken), and Garth was handicapped with a flat tyre that he had to change. He put in a massive effort to chase, but he couldn't quite catch Ron King at the end. Ron battled through with a heavy man-flu chest-infection cough-cold sort of thing to take the honours. Hard.

Thanks to Matt at Velo Espresso and the Il Treno Dolore team for the inspirational showing of "The Cyclocross Meeting" on Saturday night. I also have to thank ibuprofen, panadol, nasal spray, Enervit, bananas, an awesome husband who survived a day indoors with the kids, and my fantastic cheer squad. I couldn't have done it without you all!