OK, so I lied...

...my racing season wasn't done.

As long as there is convenient racing and foolish self pride, it's difficult to stop for the season. Yesterday I raced in the New Jersey State Cyclocross Championships in Augusta, NJ. I had been debating it for a little while, and it was easy to not bother when there were only 4 riders registered. However, I checked the pre-reg list on Friday and noticed that ~40 riders were signed up for the cat3/4 race. I recognized a few names, including the current ECCC Men's C leader, and my competitiveness got the best of me. $25 poorer, I was registered to race.

Even though I had to leave my house (on LI) at 6:30am to get there on time, I didn't consider this unnecessary driving, seeing as it was only 15 minutes off my usual drive back up to Ithaca. A break in the 5+ hr drive and the chance to do another race...it was win-win in my estimation.

The weather was brisk, but not too cold- pretty ideal cx weather. Shorts and arm warmers did the job of keeping me warm during the race. I registered and took a few laps to get a feel for the course and my tire pressure- the verdict was that the pressure could not be low enough. The entire course was greasy mud over relatively hard ground. You had the distinct chance of losing it in every corner if you took the wrong line. The course was also tending to deteriorate rather quickly- I can't imagine what it was like after 6 races. Having tubulars would have put me more at ease. In anticipation of a pinch flat I put my mountain bike in the pits, sans pedals. But I did have a pedal wrench to swap in case of the worst. I really don't think I would have bothered to go through a pedal+bike swap, but I felt special having equipment in the pit nonetheless.

I got about a third row position in the field of about 50 riders, which was ok by me given the course and the perceived competition. There really wasn't too much of a holeshot and there were a couple extended open sections and climbs that I knew would suit me. The start was pretty uneventful as the first 15-20 riders instantly put a gap on the remainder of the field. The dual-suspension mountain bikes in the rear didn't get off the line too quickly. When we turned off the pavement, I was probably in 10-15th place and the Rutgers rider had a 10m gap back to second place already. For a brief moment I was worried that he could get a formidable gap as I fought through the riders to get up front. Nevertheless, the grassy uphill allowed me to pass a bunch of riders and pull up to the top 5 before an off-camber downhill turn.

Trying to be slick and overestimating my ability, I took a really inside line and unclipped, anticipating the motocross foot plant. However, I didn't quite plan on the fact that the mud would be far too slippery to even plant a foot. So that didn't work out too well and I laid it down. Fall number 1- only a kilometer into the race. I regained my footing, remounted, and found myself in just about the same position as before in the top 5.

Following the initial uphill/downhill, the course did a bunch of flat switchbacks before returning to another hillside for a similar series of uphills followed by off camber downhill turns. It was too slow and technical to make any real ground here so I remained with a small group that was occupying positions 2-6.

Finally the course opened onto a crushed gravel path where I cranked and dropped the chase group. The leader was still 150m ahead on course. I was making ground fairly quickly until I slipped on the run-up and put my foot into my rear wheel, which required some careful maneuvering to remove myself from. The run-up was essentially a couple sets of stairs with grease mud in between. On future laps, I settled upon a pseudo-herringbone step to dig my shoes in. It didn't work all that well, though, as I slipped 3/5 of the attempts.

The run-up led to a small section around a man-made pond. In warm-up I joked to another rider that someone would forget to turn at the top and go straight into the water on one of the laps. It never happened, but I like to think that it could have. In any case, the entire loop around the pond was pure mud and it was a blast to ride. There was only one tricky turn where finding the correct outside line was key. Following this, the course did a steep drop-down adjacent to the run-up, led us through some tight turns, over a couple barriers, and finally back onto the road to lap through. I made contact with the leader as we turned off the pavement.

I came right around and instantly put a 10m gap into my competitor, which I opened in the following downhill and turns. It became pretty clear that I had control of the race. By the next turn around the pond, I had opened the gap to 45 seconds. Unfortunately, I hadn't yet found the good line around the difficult turn and I ate it right in the deepest section. I quickly remounted only to find that I had dropped my chain in the crash, forcing me off the bike again. The question was...how would I ever get it back on with so much mud and grass stuck to my frame and drivetrain?

I did my best to clear off my chainring and get my chain back on, but my leading gap was falling precipitously. As I finally got everything back on, the Rutgers rider came past and put a few seconds into me. The third place rider was still a fair amount back, so I didn't have to worry too much about that, luckily. It was pretty much just a race for first and second.

My drop to second was brief, as it only took 200m or so to pull back and regain the lead before the barriers and the road section. When we hit the pavement, I opened up another 50m without too much effort. Over the next half lap I extended my gap to what it was prior to the crash. With 3 laps left and a fair command of the race, I dialed back the effort a bit and just looked to maintain the gap and ride cleanly.

I only fell one more time (not counting slipping on the run-up) when I leaned too much through a right hander...ugh. For all the improvement I've had in bike handling through the fall, I had a really hard time with the conditions. On dry ground, it would have been a really fun grass crit for the most part. With the mud, it was a whole different story. I wonder how the real pros would have handled it...was it really that hard?

In any case, I maintained the lead at 30-45 seconds and came in for a solo victory- calm, collected, and hands raised in my best imitation of Sven Nys. New Jersey State Cyclocross cat3/4 champion. Not quite like winning a SuperPrestige race, though...


Hard to say, but I really do think that's it for me this year. The only remaining races are too far away and ill-timed for a long weekend. Not a bad way to go out, though. Can't wait to sandbag next year! Despite very leading questions about how many upgrade points I have, I think I'll wait...my ego will probably need some help after racing p/1/2 all summer.

The weekend and ahead.

As I stated in an earlier post, I think my bike racing season is over until at least March, when the collegiate season opens. But that doesn't force me indoors on the trainer all winter. While I have been doing a fair amount of spinning on the rollers, I took the opportunity to explore some of Ithaca's less traveled roads this past Saturday. Me and about 6-7 of the more intrepid cyclists from the Ithaca area met up for a proposed 'dirt road ride' based out of Slaterville. Temperatures were just breaking 40 degrees at 1pm, when we rolled out. The plan was to ride for a couple hours or so, hitting some dirt/low maintenance roads- areas we rarely see when on road bikes.

Most of us had cross bikes with fairly low profile tires; that morning I swapped my mud2's for my older 28mm michelins. However, one guy showed up on an older road bike, complete with slick tires and sidepull brakes. Given the difficulty most of us had with knobby tires and cantilevers, I'm glad I wasn't him.

I won't go into so many details, but once we climbed a bit into the hills, there was a good 2-3" of snow in the woods. Just a little more and some of the better dirt roads could have been skiable, provided you had a burly pair of rock skis like my Vischers (visu+fischer). Extended downhill sections made for some very hairy descents and the short uphills made sure you kept your weight over your rear wheel. The ice made for ample opportunities to eat it, but everyone stayed upright, due in part to some solid motocross foot planting in the turns. I can only imagine how much fun last year's cross nationals must have been with the snow.

While cycling in that was fun, it really made me want to ski again. I was fairly focused on the spring and summer ahead, but now I'm really excited to get back on snow. It only took a small reminder. If I weren't going home for break, I would think that some snow hunting on the Tug Hill would be in order. Maybe it'll be ready for when I get back upstate.

Following the ride, I checked Mont-Sainte-Anne's website to see if they got snow yet this season...apparently they had 15k open the weekend prior and the downhill mountain is just about ready to go for weekday skiing. Given the start in year's past, this is a good sign. I also looked at their photo gallery, which ultimately provided me with a poignant reminder of why I love skiing and Mont-Ste-Anne so much:

Trail 24...


Does it get any better?

ECCC Collegiate Cross and why you should do MAC Verge races

...apparently I was the leader of the C Men's collegiate series until this past weekend. Ok...

However, I was dethroned due to absence by the current leader...who placed 45th and 23rd at Chainbiter and Cycle-Smart, respectively. Still, I wondered, how did this guy surpass me in the rankings that I previously knew nothing about? He must have done well in the most recent races. And he did, placing 2nd and 4th. As it turns out, MAC cross races are far less competitive than those of the NECCS. So embrace your superiority, racers of New England. And race in the Mid-Atlantic series because you'll clean up, even if you're pack fodder for the C/4 Men's class at your usual races.

If ECCC Men's C = American cross scene, I guess I'm Jonathan Page?

Keeping with tradition...

The tradition being the fact that I rarely get photographed while racing. I always notice tons of photographers at every event, yet I never find any shots of me. Here is a prime example-a photo from the race today. I am 95% obscured, so this doesn't break the streak of non-photos.

Race Report - Dave Panella Memorial Cross

After a rather long hiatus from the Central NY Cyclocross series where I did my first two cross races, I made my return today at the Dave Panella Memorial, in Binghamton, NY. Since the initial two, a lot has changed in both my equipment and my ability to ride off-road. Even if the races aren't of the pedigree of the New England Verge series, I was curious to see how I would stack up against some of the high rollers of NY.

Unlike the Verge races, there is only an Open Men class, meaning I would be riding against both cat1/2's and teenagers on mountain bikes. But it also means that you really can't get a bad start position. Give and take.

We staged, and the top riders of the series were called up, most of which are part of the Syracuse Bicycle/Spokepost team. I did some reconnaissance on these guys prior, and found that several of them are cat1/2's on the road. So that means they have roughly the same strength, but tons more 'cross experience. Maybe I could hang with them?

Due to the small field and 60 minute race length, I wasn't too concerned with the start, but it's still not a good idea to mess that up. I fumbled a bit on clipping in, and let a bunch of people by before we hit some turns and they slowed me up. After about 600m, we came to a pseudo construction site, which was fairly reminiscent of a BMX track. There were a bunch of puddles and a banked series of turns which were fairly technical, but a lot of fun. True to form, the field screwed this up really badly and I dismounted to run around stalled riders, making up 3-4 places. I don't know where I was at this point, but I'd say top 15.

The next section was a series of off-camber 180 turns on a hillside. Turn downhill, ride parallel to the slope, and repeat several times. A couple months ago, I would have lost major time in this section, but not today. I took some really good lines and made up some additional places. As we came out of the section, I was probably top 10.

In true CNY ghetto style, the section following the downhill included two large PVC drainage pipes as barriers of sorts. They weren't placed parallel, either. They looked more like a "less than or greater than" sign. Some riders chose to ride these, popping their front and rear wheels in succession. I passed them by dismounting and running through. I'm sure the first couple riders could jump them at full speed, but without the skill to do that, the dismount was easily the best option.

A couple quick 180's and a steep hillside came next, followed by a fast descent into an open field. I forgot that there was a significant 180+ turn at the bottom, and slammed my brakes last minute coming into it. No matter, as I locked up my rear wheel, I guided the skid perfectly through the turn like a pro (well, a pro who screwed up the turn). Another couple turns and another ghetto barrier (this time no one could ride/jump them) and we were at the bottom of the field which was full of standing water.

After the run over the barrier, the course turned very sharply every 10-15 feet at this point, making for a very annoying and slow section. Add the copious amounts of standing water and mud and this part was clearly everyone's least favorite. But you weren't done yet. Then followed the most stupid of cross course elements- the pinwheel. Pinwheels are hard enough to navigate when there's tape everywhere. HOWEVER, when you line your course with tiny flags, it makes them virtually impossible to follow. People could generally find the way, but many ended up going off their lines and into oncoming traffic. Well done, CNY cross series.

Things opened up after the pinwheel, with a fairly straight section which dropped into some singletrack before emerging on a graveled road. This took us up to the start/finish area. Nothing interesting happened prior to the road as far as place changes, but I took the opportunity to make some passes before we came back into the BMX section and the S-turning downhill. At this point, the race was fairly well separated, and I was sitting in 6th place. Not much changed over the next couple laps, as gaps generally closed ahead and opened to the rear.

As we came through the start/finish on one of the laps, I noted that one of the Syracuse Bike guys had flatted and was changing his front wheel. So that meant I was now moving into 5th and the 4th wheel (Jeremy Gardner) was 50m ahead. I eventually made the catch and pass on an open straight, but couldn't get the gap and ended up dragging him around for a couple laps.

Jeremy ended up sneaking around me through a turn, which was fine by me since I was tired of taking the wind. We also were making significant progress on the third place rider, Peter Ozolins, so I was content to sit in and possibly make a big move on the both of them later on. Peter held the gap at 20m or so for quite some time, and the upcoming sections were not conducive to making a big charge and passing. So I let Jeremy lead the two of us. Then Peter was gone. I don't know where he did it, but he was instantly out of sight. I guess I wasn't paying attention.

With 2 laps to go, I turned the screw and managed to gap Jeremy; I kept checking my shoulder and glancing back on each 180 to determine his position. It didn't seem he was getting any closer. I was fairly certain I had at least 4th place locked up. The rest of the lap was uneventful, except that I began to see Peter again as we came to the bell lap. If only I hadn't let him go earlier, I might be sitting in third.

I was closing significantly on the final lap, but there just wasn't enough room left to pull him back, so I sat up a bit and rolled it in for a 4th place finish. I've gotta say I'm pretty happy with my finish. Everyone who finished ahead of me is a cat 2 or better on the road and 3 or better in cross. More importantly, I was impressed with my ability to really attack the course and the turns confidently and competently. A couple of times, I had a minor slip but I always managed to stay up. Were it last month, I would have been inspecting dirt.

I think that's it for my first 'cross season...can't wait until next year. Hopefully all that road stuff will go smoothly and be done quickly so I can hop back on the cross bike and have some fun in the fall.

The upcoming season.

As much as I look forward to the snow each winter, this winter skiing is going to become more of a past-time and a training tool rather than the focus of my training year. Given my relative success this past cycling season, I'd like to think that if I designed some sort of training plan and stuck to it, I might be able to do well in the pro/1/2 ranks. That's not to say that I won't be seen on the ski circuit this winter, but I won't be approaching it as I have in years past.

Fueled by some sense of motivation and recent talk with Jordan about it, I sat down last night and tentatively mapped out the season ahead. My goal races of the summer include the Fitchburg-Longsjo Classic (July 3-7) and the Green Mountain Stage Race (very late August-early September). As it turns out, they're perfectly spaced to plan a two-peak season a la The Cyclist's Training Bible. Fitchburg is on the USA Cycling National Racing Calendar (NRC) and is arguably the most competitive stage race for cat 2's. It's also a cat 2 only field, which means I won't have to race against pro/1's as I will for the other races I will end up doing. I don't really know if the race is as suited to my style of riding as GMSR, but it's something I have to do before I can consider myself a serious roadie.

Following the 4-week periodization cycles laid out in the Bible, I find myself theoretically starting the majority of my base riding in mid-February, which isn't too bad. In fact, the projected start of the so-called "Base 2" period begins the day after the Gatineau (formerly Keskinada) Loppet. According to the prescription, this is when one begins to specifically train for cycling. The periods prior focus on general fitness and long, slow endurance, which will be perfect given the kind of training I will be doing in preparation for the 53k race.

It seems like I will end up training through most of the races for collegiate season and early summer, but doing crappy in meaningless races is a small sacrifice for a strong performance at Fitchburg. With a good season plan and the desire to stick with it, I'm hoping I can capitalize on my weaknesses and possibly have a cat 1 upgrade by the end of next season. It's a long shot, but I also thought making cat2 would be out of reach only last summer. And yeah, it's a pretty arbitrary achievement, but there's just some mystique about being cat 1. And it gives you the status to deflect arrogant roadies.

Whatever, it's all for fun.

Sunday - Cycle-Smart

After Saturday's mechanical maladies, I knew that with a clean race I had the possibility of a pretty solid finish. I came into the weekend looking for a podium position at minimum. As far as I could tell, anything less would be a bit of a disappointment. However, I was unable to get a bash guard the previous day, so I had the distinct possibility of the same problems for Sunday.

At 10pm on Saturday night, it occurred to me that if I were to use my 39T ring to drive and the 42T to run as a guard, I just may be able to avoid dropping my chain on undulating trail sections. The only issue was properly sized chainring bolts. So I took a bit of a gamble and used the single-ring bolts on the double ring setup. Thanks to my engineering intuition(...), I made the educated gamble that they wouldn't vibrate loose in the 40 minutes of racing the next day. I also re-positioned the chain watcher on the inside. While far from perfect, it was certainly an improvement on the existing setup.

Sunday's course was even less technical than Saturday's, if possible. The only course "difficulties" included an un-rideable sandpit, an extremely steep run-up, a rutted drop off, and a very steep ride/run. All the rest was extended sections on pavement or grass. This course also suited my strengths.

Once again, I got a decent starting position, in probably the 5th row. The first turn would be tight and possibly sketchy, but once we dropped into the field, I knew I could move right up the field. Staged directly next to me was Tyler Sage, the winner of the Chainbiter. At least I could keep an eye on him.

When the starter shouted, "Go!" (and excellent way to start a race) I clipped right in and made a few places in the scramble, only to be slowed by the field through a gravel strewn 90 degree right turn at the end of the paved path. Still, this was my best start to date; things were going well. The first couple corners could have been bad, given the loose gravel, but the front of the pack negotiated it nicely. Following the drop into the field and mini-railroad crossing, I could see that the front of the race was not very far ahead. I knew that I could count on more than a handful of riders starting way too fast- they would come back to me pretty quickly.

I picked up a few places in the grass straights and found myself in the top 10 as we made it to the sandpit. I had attempted to ride it in warmup and quickly found that it would be much more prudent to dismount. Everyone else figured the same, so the pit was the usual mess of wheels and bikes being swung about in random fashion. On the 180 turn, Tyler slid his wheels out, and I moved past, probably in 8-9th place at this point. I did notice that the leader was significantly ahead already. How did he do that?

Our small pack of 4-5 riders remained together for the conclusion of the first lap- through the run up, drop off, and over the barriers. I sat in on the start/finish straight, looking to make my move in the upcoming open field. As we crossed the train tracks, Sarah alerted me to my 8th place position. With room to work and the 6 other riders close-by, things were shaping up rather well. For once I wouldn't have to chase the race from the back. At this point, Tyler made a strong pull to pass the group, and in a momentary lapse of judgement I let him open the gap.

During the following laps, I dropped the grupetto and bridged up to the third wheel. We stayed together, trading leads, with Tyler holding 100m on us through the majority of the lap. However, when we hit the pavement stretch through the start/finish, I pulled around and began my move to catch up to Tyler, now in 2nd. I had moved solidly into third, as the gap to Tyler closed slightly and gap to fourth opened significantly. The chase was on.

The next lap or so followed with me trying to get up to Tyler's wheel, as I very slowly closed the gap. I probably could have mustered a big effort to close the gap quicker, but I was focused on maintaining constant pace and not going under. I knew I could make the catch, and I also knew that I would need a strong effort to make the pass and hopefully open a gap. At this point, the race leader was visible, but had just enough gap to make it seem unlikely that I could close on him in the remaining distance. Nevertheless, the battle for 2nd place drew significant attention from the announcers as we passed by them at several points on the course. I was famous.

As we approached the barriers with three laps remaining, the gap hovering at 30m, I heard the announcer exclaim, "Sage must have made up 4 seconds on those barriers alone." I was too busy avoiding roots to take notice of his apparently smooth transitions. In any case, I knew that I would need a solid run through the barriers to maintain the current gap.

I approached the barrier in typical fashion, kicked my leg over, placed my hand on the top tube, and prepared for a very professional dismount. However, at this critical time, my left pedal was not in the business of releasing my foot. Frantically, I jerked my foot and the bike and managed to release before crashing head on into the barrier. However, I was left in no position to take this section smoothly. For some reason, I lifted the bike with only one hand, pulling the front wheel right into the barrier, causing it to flip wildly to the side. My body was over the first barrier but the bike was flailing over the top. As I continued over the second one, still lacking control of the bike, I slammed the rear wheel into that barrier, causing another wild bobble. Then, in a spectacular final display of agility, I tripped over the bike and came crashing to the ground.

All through this, I hear the announcer (Alan Atwood) alerting the crowd to my unfailing grace- "Lawney is having quite a bit of difficulty and has fallen...good thing the announcer wasn't there to see that!" As I remounted, I could hear him remark that I "looked like a gazelle over the barriers." Normally I feel that would be a compliment, but in light of the fall, I imagined a gazelle in this situation:


In any case, I didn't lose too much time and the fall forced me to regain my focus. Over the next half lap, I pulled him in at a faster rate and made the catch right after the sandpit. I suspected he was starting to drift back to me in fatigue. Or at least I hoped he was, since it would make the final laps easier on me. I sat in for about 10 seconds, then perhaps foolishly I passed on the paved section before the big run up. He didn't have much trouble grabbing my wheel and we came into the dismount together.

Tyler sat on for the next lap and a half as I intentionally took really poor outside lines in an attempt to make him come by and pull, to no avail. I also may have been taking bad lines just because I couldn't see out of my left eye...because my contact lens fell out AGAIN! Two days in a row. At this point, I had abandoned the idea of riding him off my wheel and was content to let the race play out tactically. First place was out of contention and 4th was at least a minute behind. I figured it would come down to a drag race, which I was fairly comfortable with. I don't have the speed I had in the summer, but I feel like I still have something left. As we came to the final lap, we were together, with me in front.

The final lap played out without much incident until the ride/run-up out of the lower field. I had managed to ride this every other lap, which I was pretty pleased with. However, with waning power in the legs, each subsequent trip up became more difficult. Additionally, I couldn't mess this one up too badly since it was so close to the finish. This final time up, I came off the good line and spun my rear wheel in some loose dirt where people had been running the hill. Damn. I was close enough to the top that I just had to grind out the remaining 3 feet at 20-30% grade, but it wasn't easy. I practically pulled a trackstand on the cusp of the hill as I fought my gear over the top.

Even though I didn't intentionally screw up the ride/run-up, it was exactly what I was looking for. This had to force Tyler to come around, and he did. The announcer loved the drama- as I struggled to complete the hill he was quick to proclaim that I had "bobbled near the top!" and that I "left the door open for Sage!" It took me a few seconds to catch back on as we hit the annoying rooted section in the trees. The only other thing that would mess me up was the approaching barriers, placed not more than 800m from the finish- the announcer reminded the crowd of my fall.

We both had relatively uneventful trips over the barriers, and I set up on his wheel in the winding section approaching the final straight. As we made the sharp turn onto the final stretch, Tyler slid his wheel a bit in the dirt to pavement transition. Luckily he stayed up, since a fall would have made for a lame finish. There was nothing left in the race but a 300m straight paved path. The sprint was engaged.

I shifted down a few gears to gain some speed and stayed behind and to the right. Unaware of the actual finish location, I hesitated a bit in a visual search for the line. Still couldn't place it. Once we began to spin up, I clicked into my largest gear (39x12) and we were both standing in full flight with probably 150m left. I began to pull up and almost got even, but I was spun out and the line was approaching far too quickly. As we hit the line, both bikes were thrown, with mine being half a wheel too late. 3rd.

Suffice to say I'm a little disappointed I couldn't win the sprint for second, but I'm also really happy that I placed so well at a Verge series race. I think this is my last big 'cross race of the season, but I'm excited to sandbag some 4 races next season before upgrading to the B(cat 2/3) class.

Saturday-Chainbiter 9.0

After some decent finishes at Gloucester (18th and 13th) on the singlespeed, I was anxious to put myself and the new ride to the test against the New England scene once again. The only excuse I have left is waning bike fitness, right?

Saturday morning turned out to be cold and rather windy, but the rain managed to hold off until the later parts of the day. Not that I would have minded the rain, but it would have made hypothermia a distinct possibility and made spectating miserable.

After check-in and a couple warm up laps, it was fairly obvious that this was a course that would largely suit my strengths...it wasn't technical at all, and had lots of open room for me to use what was left of my legs. I got staged in 27th, so I was probably 6 rows off the front. Already much more manageable than Gloucester. Of course, staging took far longer than it should have, as beginning Masters riders with high numbers and zipp 404's jammed up the start lanes and couldn't grasp the idea of lining up by bib number.

The start was on a bit of a paved uphill, so proper gear selection was really important for getting out of the blocks quickly. Of course, the best start in the world won't help when you're boxed from all sides...After rubbing elbows and handlebars for the first 100m, things started to open up and I could see the race strung out ahead of me on the initial paved downhill. Time to get to work.

The first major test of the race was how the field would negotiate the left hand turn at the base of the hill. 90% of the transition to dirt/grass was made marginally more difficult by the presence of a curb. In later laps I would use the non-curbed part, but in the scramble for position on the first lap, some careful maneuvering over the curb landed me a handful of places. The rider crashed in the middle of the trail also slowed some racers down a bit. As we hit the first trail of dirt and sizable rocks, I tried to advance my place in an effort to hit the sand pit with less riders around to foul up my line. This was going according to plan until the combination of a strategic bump and lag in pedal stroke caused my chain to drop. Damn.

Lacking a front derailleur to facilitate getting the chain back on, I had to dismount to return my drive train to proper working order. As I repaired this malady, I witnessed 50+ riders pass me. So much for a good start. I was now sitting solidly in the middle to back of a 90+ rider field. Over the next few laps, I displayed my usual brand of frantic riding in an effort to make contact with the front of the race. I passed my way back up to the first third of the race without much incident, oddly enough on the strength of my sand riding and smooth cornering. About halfway through the race, I was beginning to see that there weren't many riders ahead. In my immediate sights was Jordan.

In an effort to quickly make the catch, I took a grassy left hand turn too quickly and had a pretty solid wash out. Right in front of a cameraman. The gap opened up. I spent the remainder of the lap and then some to catch back on, and I made the pass on the difficult uphill section following the first sandpit. After exchanging slobbering pleasantries between labored breaths, I made my way up to catch the several riders ahead. Before not too long, I was told that I was in 3rd position. With about 1.5 laps to go, I could begin to see the second and first place riders. I knew I could reel in at least one of them, if not both. As I made distance on the cyclonauts rider, I lost my left contact lens. Great. This happened once already this season and has happened numerous times in ski races. It's not the worst thing in the world, but it makes technical navigation quite a challenge when one eye is seeing at 20/400. In any case, I made contact with 2nd.

As we passed through the finish for the start of the final lap, I made a strong pass to put myself into second position. I could see the first place rider from Cambridge Bicycles, but it would take a pretty ridiculous effort to pull him in. Following a not-so-stellar sandpit, I still had the cyclonauts rider in tow. That wasn't for long, however, as I dropped him on the extended climb to the top of the course. 2nd place was locked up. Or so I thought.

On the off-camber drop into the field, I heard the familiar sound of a chain in distress and a general lack of resistance to my pedaling at the bottom of the descent. Once again I had dropped my chain at a very critical moment in the race. This time I was slightly more efficient at getting the chain back on, but in my rush I failed to spin the cranks to get everything lined up. Upon my remount and first pedal stroke, I found the chain returning to it's unfortunate position of being NOT on the chainring. At this point, two riders passed me and I could see three more on the way. Lacking momentum, proper vision, and being generally frustrated, I let the places slip by me, and I drifted back to 7th. A final rider attempted to take a place away from me, but I kept him at bay in the final sandpit and put him away in the final uphill stretch. It didn't take much of a charge to make him give up.

The post-race followed with ample bitching about equipment failures and various other excuses, but all in all it was a solid effort and I really couldn't complain. Dealing with the unavoidable (or in my case, fairly avoidable) problems is part of racing cyclocross. Barring those issues, a 2nd place was solidly in my grasp, so I had to be positive about that. Going into Sunday's race, I knew the podium was mine to lose.

More on that when I get to it.

The weekend.

Finished 7th and 3rd this weekend. More on why and how in the next post. Too busy at the moment to do a proper race report.

The week.

As has been the case for the past month or two, this week has again been pretty casual. ANY WEEK NOW(!) I'll start it up again...Fitchburg is only 8 months away, after all.

Tuesday involved squeezing in 40 minutes of ghetto-cross in the plantations and around Beebe Lake before I had to proctor exams from 5:30-9pm. In an effort to not miss the stellar Tuesday night programming on Fox, I volunteered to proctor exams for students who get extended time. In the process of riding, however, I managed to surprise an Indian guy taking photographs of his extremely pregnant and shirtless wife(?) . Uncomfortable.

Yesterday I rollerskied for an hour or so in the plantations and around Forest Home. I kind of remember why I like skiing, but I also am beginning to remember that I haven't done anything with my upper body for the past 8 months. My arms and core definitely need some time to adjust to providing more than just static support and the rare celebratory gesture. Once I build my own rollerskis perhaps I'll put on faster wheels and pretend I'm already that much stronger. [Yes, I will be manufacturing rollerskis at the machine shop. Gone are the days of paying $300 for two 1.5 foot aluminum shafts with cutouts for overpriced wheels. Join the revolution.]

Today I was looking for some lengthier cross riding as I planned to head up to Swan's to use his trails, but a leaf-covered root and pinch flat felled my efforts several miles in. Being prepared as I am, I was carrying neither tube nor patch kit along with my mini pump. So I got a lot of practice shouldering and running with the bike on my 4 mile journey home. Always try to make the best out of easily avoidable unfortunate situations.

In other news, the #5 Tandem Track Sprint team in the nation combined once again for glory...this time in the jersey design competition for the new Cornell kits. To be unveiled in the spring of 2008 in ECCC action, expect to see some slight variant upon this design...sponsors may vary.