London Cyclocross League 6 - Penshurst Off-Road Circuit

Just getting to the starting line of this race was an achievement for me!

I had an off-road experience just getting to the place from the train station. Not really sure of where the race venue was, I decided to abandon my soggy paper map and instead followed the signs to the Penshurst Country Park when I came upon them. This took me along a dirt path, very steep in places, through brambles and nettles.

I arrived too early, too, thinking that the race started at 13:00 when in fact it only started at 14:00. So I spent the hour I had to kill alternately sheltering from the pissing rain under the tarp hanging over the signing-on table and trying to warm up next to the bonfire.

After one terrifying recce lap, I'd decided that there was no point even starting. But Emma Wood (London Phoenix), who had so kindly and patiently guided me around the practice lap, suggested I just start at the back and ride at least one lap on my own. So I composed myself and did just that. And it wasn't too bad, so I rode another lap, and so on, until the hour was almost up.

All through the final quarter of my last lap I was expecting to be overtaken by the leaders but wasn't thinking clearly enough to realise that I really should wait to be overtaken so that I could finish my race. I crossed the finish line and, realising the end of the race for the leaders was imminent, pleaded with the judge not to make me do another lap, "You don't want to be standing out here, wet and cold, for another 15 minutes waiting for me to finish, do you?" So he sent me back across the line and duly recorded my finish time when I rolled over it again having applauded the winner. But it turned out that the winner had actually previously, erroneously, been sent around on another lap. Mud everywhere made the lap counters' jobs very difficult!

I, however, got off lightly by riding around mainly on my own and staying well away from anyone's rear wheel - to avoid the mud spray, of course. And I didn't fall! There were a couple of occasions where it seemed to me a miracle, but I didn't come off. There were a couple of run-ups, so my shoes and cleats were completely soaked and clogged with mud, but the rest of me was relatively clean.

"You should've seen the others!", didn't prevent disapproving looks on the train home, though.

Mud.

There was really no other way to clean the bike than to set it in the bath and hose it off gently with the showerhead. I scooped pounds of mud, grass, and leaves out of the drain and spent ages wiping and rinsing the frame from every angle, but every time I thought I was done I would lift the bike out of the bath only to find my hands or my t-shirt or the bath mat all mucky and splattered with globs of mud from hidden-god-knows-where.

For me, bike-cleaning is a labour of love and I am horrified by the state of some of the bikes people bring into the shop. I sometimes joke that I'm going to found the NSPCB - National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Bikes. I'll leave that rant - and some bike-cleaning tips - for another post, though.

Sliding around on two wheels through inches of mud was a hoot! Having to rely on public transport to get around, and travelling alone, makes me pretty cautious, though. Next year, I must get better organised and find a regular training and racing buddy. I'm just figuring things out this year, but it became obvious pretty quickly that racing is hard to do all on your own. So far I've been lucky with transport and weather and avoiding injury. Let's hope that continues.

The Difficult Decision

This weekend's "London" Cyclocross League race was in Lydden, near Dover - it would've been 3 hours travelling each way and I was all prepared to do it --- until the alarm went off Sunday morning and I realised that if I didn't race I could save myself 50 quid (train fare & entry fee) and get some housework done.


Manchmal muss es sein.

London Cyclocross League 4 - It's all good!

After a week off, I returned to another school playing field course where once again I had a great result! i.e. I didn't crash and I didn't come last!

There were 2 really steep sections that I walked up - including one not long after a section of planks where it was pretty difficult to get any momentum to tackle it after remounting. I took that part as a "break" and most laps stopped at the top to have a look at how the better riders tackled the section. It was pretty much 50-50 between those who rode up and those who ran. Towards the end of the race, the runners were definitely making quicker progress than the riders. The course was nice and wide so I was able to stay out of everyone's way. And as the race went on I really improved at flying down the banks (without braking! Woo hoo!) and attacking them again to get back up. On a couple of occasions I had to be careful of my line so as not to run into the back of someone grinding to a halt in front of me. 34X25 (about 36 inches) is my smallest gear. I don't think I need anything smaller because it isn't power that I'm lacking (what that doesn't get me up, I'm probably better off running up) but confidence and a sensitivity for traction. I've never encountered such climbs before (well, maybe once on the 2nd day of the Tour of Wessex last year) but I'm having a go and it's getting easier.

"It's all good", as I'm wont to say about anything cycling-related.

There were 8 or 9 women in the field - a great turn out. Including Nicky who was one of the guides at the GPM10 women's alpine training weekend that I did back in May.

Rode home, got lost a couple of times and then ended up in a traffic jam in Greenwich. Had to stop in Bexley for a sugary drink. By the time I got to the Greenwich foot tunnel, the lifts had stopped running so I had to walk down and back up the stairs while carrying my bike. It's all good training, I suppose. Yup, it's all good.

Firsts! - Part II: Manchester Velodrome

Working in a bike shop, I feel it behoves me to at least have a go at all forms of cycling. That's the main reason why I've taken up 'cross this year, and last weekend, since I wasn't working and the National Track Champs were on, I went up to Manchester to watch the racing on Saturday and then do a taster session on the track on Sunday. This was my first time ever riding a fixed gear bike, let alone on a track, let alone on as renowned a track as the Manchester Velodrome! It was awesome.

I've often thought that the track would suit me - no hills, no corners: it's essentially an endless flat road! I even had a track frame built last year intending to ride at Herne Hill this past summer, but I haven't quite gotten 'round yet to getting all the bits together (the chainset I have my heart set on has been on back order since April). So one day I logged on to buy tickets for Saturday's racing, booked the train, reserved a couple of nights at the Sports City Travelodge and called the Velodrome to book a place on Sunday's taster session and was all good to go within an hour.

The National Championship action on Saturday was good, with the Cyclists With a Disability events especially inspiring, but there was only just enough of a crowd to provide some atmosphere (about 200 people by my reckoning), and a paucity of participants in the women's events. There weren't even enough entrants in the women's keirin to justify rounds; there was just the one medal-deciding race. And even in the men's races the entry lists were less than stellar. I guess it's not a priority for many of our track riders.


Watching Saturday's racing was just a bit of a bonus; what I was really interested in doing was riding the track myself.

I was quite nervous before the session. Being in club kit, I didn't want to totally embarass myself, and I am nearly 10kg over a decent racing weight these days and not at all fit. But I was sure I wasn't the slowest or least capable rider ever to hit the boards at Manchester and I was just so excited and I knew I was going to enjoy it.

There were only 2 other people on the session - both of whom were even less experienced cyclists - and 2 others on the track rolling around the blue line as part of their training towards gaining accreditation. So there were only 5 of us on the whole track, with 2 coaches to guide us from the centre - lots of room to stay out of one another's way!

When I'd booked the session, I had to tell them how tall I was in order for them to determine what size hire bike to give me. When I collected it, armed with the measurements for my proper saddle height and setback, I was a bit disappointed to find that the coaches weren't at all bothered with that. "If it's obviously too low or too high," one of them said, "we'll adjust it." And that was it. Riding around, it was obvious that the saddle was a bit too low, but not stupidly so, so I just got on with riding. This was completely anathema to the way I set my own bikes up - as my weight, fitness, and flexibility change I get one of my colleagues to check out my saddle position. I can definitely feel that the extra half-centimetre of fat on my ass means I need to lower the saddle!

The novelty and excitement of the experience meant that I rode harder than I had for a very long time and, at the end of the session, I found myself with that rasping-lungs feeling that I only too-infrequently push myself to. Brilliant training!

First Mud

There was no London Cross League race this weekend so I thought I'd take the opportunity to show my face at my club's Saturday morning ride - the Park Ride - but to ride Jan (that's what I call my 'cross bike) around the off-road paths around the park to get in some off-road training.

I know the roads of Richmond Park well, but it's a completely different ride on the paths. I did one complete lap and then just stuck to riding up and down the hill between Robin Hood and Kingston gates. Off-road training, hill intervals, sociable post-ride coffees, and I'd even ridden in with a potential new member who lives in my area of East London. Killed a whole week's worth of training and socialising birds with one session.

AND it was a bit wet, so Jan's finally got a taste of the mud he's been designed for!

London Cyclocross League 2 - All Downhill

This week I did crash and I did come last.

Cyclocross course design seems to me a peculiar expression of sadism, with sharp turns on steep banks being particularly powerful fetishes. On today's course at Hillingdon there were 3 sections that I found impassable on the bike.

1. A very steep descent ending with a dead turn right onto a steep climb. I was afraid of twisting an ankle just walking down.

2. Switchbacks up and down a steep bank. I could make it through the first up and down no problem, but the turn on the second crest had a near-vertical little kick at the top which meant that the speed and momentum I needed to get up it was more speed than I was comfortable taking into the banked turn at the top. Aargh! Lack of confidence let me down on this one. This wasn't really as difficult as it seemed. Especially in hindsight.

3. This is a silly little turn at the top of a grassy bank. On the 2-lap recce I walked over this blasted hump, Beelzebub's zit! Then I came off on it when I attempted to ride around it on the first lap of the race. After that, it took me a few laps to attempt riding around it again but I made it! Next time 'round there were faster riders passing me so I bailed and never did ride all the way around it again.

This course really laid bare one of my worst weaknesses: an inability to unclip and set down my right foot. I am extremely strongly "handed". I first discovered this when I learned to snowboard a number of years ago. The first thing you have to do when taking up any sideways-sliding sport - snowboarding, skateboarding, wakeboarding - is decide which foot is in front when you normally ride. I knew immediately that I was "goofy", that is, I ride right foot forward. No doubt about it. To have my left foot leading just feels wrong. I've even subsequently noticed that when I have to stand sideways on the tube or a bus or train I am always uncomfortable if I'm not able to stand so that my right foot is forward to the direction of travel.

Whenever I need to put a foot down off the bike, I always only unclip my left. This is a problem when I've ground to a halt on steeply-banked left turn. Twice I ended up falling down a hill - well, just a grassy bank actually, luckily.


How can I train myself out of this?


Well, just do it, you might say. Easier said than done, though. If I try it during my morning commute I'm liable to fall over onto a stopped car. That's actually probably safer than trying it somewhere in the open where I'd otherwise fall right over on to the ground. But the embarrassment of falling over in front of all those smug car drivers, not to mention all the other bike commuters - oh, it doesn't bear thinking about! I never get a chance to "train" for cyclocross. But then, I didn't start out thinking of these races as races in and of themselves; they're all just training - bike handling, confidence building, thigh-burning effort - for "proper" riding on the road next year. Aren't they?

London Cyclocross League 1

I didn't crash and I didn't come last! - A great result from my first ever cyclocross race. (Although it was touch and go on both counts at times.)

A very civilised 13:00 start time meant I was able to have a lie-in and a leisurely cup of coffee before realising that I had to shift if I wasn't going to miss the last possible train that would get me to the race venue on time. As I sat studying my scrap of Googlemaps trying to memorise the chain of streetnames that would lead me from Rochester station to Temple School, Strood, another cyclist boarded the carriage and asked did I mind if he secured his bike next to mine. "It looks like you're going to Strood, too," I said. "You'll want to steer well-clear of me - it's my first ever cross race!" We exchanged a bit of chat and then he went off to find a seat. It took me a few minutes to realise who I'd been talking to. There was something familiar, not about him, but about his bike - an Indy Fab Planet X in baby blue and chocolate brown with pipe lagging duct-taped to the top and seat tubes for comfortable shouldering. Aha! It was Matt Seaton - one of the UK's foremost writers on cycling.

He was good company for the short ride from the station to the race venue, and it was nice to be absolved from navigatorial responsibilities even though he wasn't much cop as a guide. Up Frindsbury Road I clung to his wheel, too breathless to point out that we'd missed the turn we wanted until it levelled off and, to my horror, instead of turning around and going back down the way we'd come, he turned left up something-or-other Hill Road and we entered an Escher-esque landscape of streets that only went up! By the time we got to Temple School, my thighs were burning with lactic acid and I made a mental note to slip a Salbutamol inhaler in my saddle pack when I got home. Bah, it wasn't really that bad - a good warm-up actually.

I had a nervous natter with most of the other 6 or 7 'Mos at the race, signed-on, and rode 2 slow laps to recce the course. It was a warm, dry day and the wide, flat, grassy sections of the course were blessedly easy. But if the easy sections were easier than I'd expected, the difficult bits were more difficult.

1. A narrow section of switchbanks. On only 2 of my 10 laps did I manage to steer through here without unclipping. The only way to do it, I decided, after watching many more-skilled riders negotiate it, was to let the bike slide out around the corners. Hmm. I haven't yet got my head 'round the concept of doing that on purpose.

2. 2 planks on a gentle uphill. The race winner, Glider Boxercross-rider Darren Barclay effortlessly bunny-hopped over these. I, on the other hand, had to inelegantly stop, get off the bike, carry it over the tiddly barriers and remount - usually pausing in awe to watch more-skilled riders managing the same sequence of actions in a much more flowing manner. In this photo, I'm even taking the time to chat to a clubmate, optimistically asking whether, as he passed me, he was off the front of the race. No, turns out he'd had a puncture just at the start and was catching up from behind.

3. A very sharp off-camber turn between a tree and a bench that seemed to change every lap as the tape was frequently ripped, blown off, and re-attached in different spots. Joking with some of the others after the race, we proposed that this could actually become the purposeful work of the race organisers in a new-format magical mystery maze cross race - move the markers to create a different path every lap!


The results? I ended up 62nd out of 64, and 3rd out of 4 female finishers. It can only get better.

This weekend's race is at Hillingdon where I've done a few circuit races in the Quest Women's Series in the last two years. I think the course will be more technical (and more muddy if the current forecast for the weekend is correct) but at least I know the way.

Firsts!

No, not race results! I rode off-road for the very first time ever last weekend!

Last year I bought a little steel cross frame, put mudguards on it and put it into service as a winter training bike. (Since it weighs about 2kg more than my racing bike, and had 25mm tyres, I christened it Jan - my big, fat, winter bike.) Now I've taken the mudguards off and put even bigger, fatter, knobbly tyres on and am determined to have a go at the London Cyclocross League races this winter.

Up at the shop, Tony's going to have a go for the first time, too (although he's already pretty handy off-road, being a regular competitor at singlespeed MTB races) and Jules is resurrecting what I suspect was a pretty glorious career in the mud. When one of the members of my cycling club offered to lead a Cyclocross skills session last Saturday, about a dozen of us turned up. It seems everyone is going cross crazy this year!

If you're now asking yourself, "What on earth is cyclocross?", have a look here.

If it doesn't kill me, it'll do my bike-handling a world of good. And it's given me a great excuse to get a sexy new pair of wheels! They won't be delivered for about 3 weeks yet, so I won't say any more until they arrive - first race is this weekend and I'm worried that my cross career might be over before I even get to the all-the-gear-no-idea phase.

I'm frightened, but I reckon that lots of people less fit and able than I am manage to do it, so I should be able to, too. We'll see soon enough, eh?

A girl and her bike

It's a well-known fact that I love my bikes - but not quite in this way! (And I feel compelled to point out that her saddle's too high.)



Sometime soon I'll get 'round to posting pictures and vital statistics of my lovely boys.

A Tale of Two Race(r)s

Sunday, 29 July 2007. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

While my Cyclefit colleague, Warrick Spence, topped the podium in the invitational E/1/2 event at the Sutton Town Centre races, I ended up as the last listed finisher in the Women's race.

Typical performances from both of us.

At our respective mid-week races, Warrick once again had to muster some post-race energy to climb up to the top step of the podium, while I got to practice my inner tube changing technique after a visit from the merciful puncture fairy cut my pitiful effort at Hillingdon short.

Our results couldn't be more different, but I like to think that the thrill and excitement we feel at riding around in circles as fast as we can is exactly the same. It's just that my "fast as I can" is a lot slower and to less successful effect than Warrick's!

Warrick's an Elite, rides for the shop team and has sponsors; he's gifted, fast and male. I'm a 3rd Cat. woman with neither genetics nor youth on my side. And having only taken up racing last year at the age of 37, less than a year after having taken up cycling full stop, I don't even have the benefit of experience.

Now Warrick's got a blog I thought I should start one, too, to provide a different perspective on the thing we have in common, and to demonstrate how even if you're not a shit-hot super-fit racer you can still, unashamedly, be passionate about cycling and bikes. While Warrick will tell you what it's like "looking down the barrel of a pro-crit sprint", I'll tell you what it's like to bring up the rear at a local women's circuit race.

I think that's just as fascinating!

- Kimbers