Quieting the voice inside

There's been quite a bit of talk in the past couple days about the weather forecast for tomorrow's Red Hook Crit bike race, and it's understandable. Skinny tires, sharp corners and a slippery pavement does not inspire confidence among the casual bike rider set. The first question I heard was if it was going to be cancelled. The organizers were quick to dispel that notion and guarantee that the race would go on. Regardless of the severity of the rain and what the actual conditions are, I am sure that some people will talk themselves out of racing. I think that is the wrong move.

Last year, in my first year racing bicycles, I finished 20 Cyclocross races. The devil is in the details though, as it's the footnote that continues to bug me to this day. I actually signed up and paid for 22 races. One was missed due to miss communication on what time transport was leaving. The other was because I let that little voice inside my head shut me down. Baystate CX was close to the end of the season (12.1.13) and the mercilessly cold winter we have endured so far was in full effect. When I started up my rental car that morning to head to the race course for day one the dashboard told me it was 9 degrees, and with my race starting in 90 minutes, I knew it wasn't going to be much better than that. Sure, the race ended up being a cold one, but I dealt with it and got through it. I wasn't happy with the result but I was glad I finished. Day two featured the course in reverse, which is typical, but overnight a small amount of precipitation had fallen, and with such cold temperatures the past week or so the course has turned into a frozen slip and slide. While I was willing to deal with that, the course reversal turned two climbs from the previous day into (in my mind) dangerous descents. One was small but gave you the chance to careen int a wooden field house, the other was (for a CX course) quite a big hill where you had to make a left turn or go straight into some netting.

Before the race, as I was pre riding the course and struggling mightily to stay upright, I paused at the top of the large hill and watched other people attempt to descend it. I don't know how I let it happen, but I talked myself out of racing that day. I felt better for the moment, but when I joined my teammates at the start to take some photos of them, I heard the officials explaining to the racers how they had decided to have a controlled start, since the initial part of the course was on pavement and made a sharp right turn onto grass. Once the race was underway and I saw how much slower the entire field was going, I started to get upset with my decision. That's not to say people didn't fall down, of course they did. That happens all the time, under any conditions in a amateur bike race. But it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be, and I'm still annoyed that I allowed my inner voice to make that choice for me.

The photo at the top? That's Rich Soffar, who grabbed his first podium of the CX season that day. My other teammate in the bottom photo is Sammy Moseley, who grabbed sixth, also his best showing of the year. Did Rich fall a few times? Yes, but he got right back up, kept pushing, rode smart and did what he was there to do. The drive home from Sterling , MA was three + hours of contemplation, and I still think about that weekend. I'm determined to not let that happen again.

Use your ability and training to quiet the voice inside that is trying to keep you down.

Don't be afraid to ask people with far more experience for advice how to approach a course.

If the conditions have made it tougher for you they have made it tougher for everyone. Ride safe and smart, and let the chips fall where they may.

See you tomorrow at qualifying.

Suffering in warm weather beats suffering in cold weather every time.

I went to Los Angeles a couple weeks ago to escape the bitter cold that has enveloped the east coast for what can only be described as one of the coldest winters I can ever remember. Last year was my first year racing bicycles, and I used that fact that I had not competed in anything other than drinking and binge eating for almost two decades prior to account for middling performance. You can't use that excuse in year two, so while I was in LA with my friend Chris we jumped at the chance to have Kyle Kelley from Golden Saddle Cyclery take us on a ride of the hills around Griffith Park and the Hollywood sign. While the photos taken were awe inspiring and the camaraderie unbeatable, one thing remains clear: I cannot climb worth a damn. Having only owned a track bike the past few years before building up my Cyclocross bike, it is clear that I have some major work ahead of me. There's not really much you can do when your HR hits 180, the lactate in your blood thickens to a thick sludge and you simply have to stop and get off the bike. "Just switch to an easier gear" they will say. I was already there. My limits are my limits, and they are simply not good enough at the moment.