Beautiful day, warm and sunny all evening like a throwback to August. Cyclocross enthusiasts en masse, just huge turnout. Course was wide like a runway. So good to see so many people out and be able to catch up with the crowd. Lots of new racers, including some FirstEnergy faces. Lots of deadgoats. Lots of new faces. Lots of blingy bike rolling around. Lots of women are finding this fun - terrific!
I pick the first corner to "marshall" which means make conversation with dog walkers that wonder what this Mayhem is. And yell encouragement on that tough climbing corner - because it picks people up by a fraction of a second. It's great to see the effort being put out, the strain, the technique.
A's start second. Big group. With 200m of relatively flat start for drag racing then straight up a hill with an ever steepening off camber up to the left, the 'cross season was full bore within 30 seconds of the start line. I qualify "full bore" as meaning I'm at max heart rate am already begging my innards for more oxygen than my VO2 max is capable of supplying by the top of that climb... and this was the result of planning a "comfortable" start. These races aren't about numbers, but I count people on the first hills just to get a sense, and to try for 10 seconds of distraction from the searing. I feel good overall, it was a good day. My mind was able to disrespect and overrule my body's pleadings for mercy reasonably well. I rode the whole race in +- 10th and only exchanged spots either up or down maybe 3 times. Devin rockets by then I reel him back. Thomas pulls away for good. The laps were long. We did 7. On the 5th I was begging to hear a bell, then saw the sign for 2 left to go. Jeff Neilson passed me, to my surprise... no, I didn't think I was going to finish ahead of Jeff once this decade... I thought for sure I'd been chasing him/his group for 5 laps (brain must be on limited function mode).
1/3 into the last, it's like disappearing under the water peacefully. The pain subsides, as well as the urgency, but the speed holds constant. It can't matter for the last two thirds, as the end is near. It's calming, or maybe it's shock. I can hardly spit after, my mouth and lungs are gooey. I get my mind in order and go pick course flags.
Rode home with Devin and Andrea. Happy. Like blissfully happy; perhaps even oxygen poisoned, ultra relaxed happy. On a beautiful night along the river. Tired, yet we rolled effortlessly like there was a tailwind. From just after the starting gun to present, my mind couldn't really create things like "thoughts", it just existed in the present. I don't do that a lot.
Cyclocross is like bicycle crack. Once is enough to get you addicted, and it's intense. It just doesn't destroy lives (I'd say it doesn't have a social stigma, but it does - I just like that stigma).
Slowly my mind is entertaining thoughts again, like "I will love cyclocross until the day I die" and "I really want perogies now" and "the guys who named that cyclocross movie Pure Sweet Hell sure got that right".
I'm guessing the Bow 80 will rob legs of power for next Tuesday, but I want to hang out regardless.
Thanks Midweek Mayhem crew!
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