Push left to go left

So I've been practicing a bit at the local park. I'm showing up in the mornings, pulling out cans and bottles from some of the trashcans, and setting up small loops. I've been practicing counter steering (or what I think it counter steering) and I'm learning that pushing left really does go left!

I've also been doing longer loops around courses marked by trees and really sprinting from turn to turn. Great practice! Even if I don't get any stronger, improved cornering should keep me safer and shave off seconds - maybe minutes?

Racing is Training

I’m not really an athlete. I never have been. There were one or two seasons in high school that I got pretty good at soccer, but I was never the fastest, strongest player. In the neighborhood I had good plays every once in a while, but I lacked the confidence to make every catch or every tackle.

I am a strong swimmer, something I credit to swim team in elementary school, but I consistently finished 2-5^th in my heats. I might have got a first place once.

Weight training in high school and college wasn’t much better. I never saw the gains my friends did, and though I didn’t quit, I sort of wondered why I bothered.

So when I took up biking a few years ago, I never dreamt I would be interested in racing. A friend and I would poke along on 20-40 mile rides at 13 mph, and looked at the club rides who whizzed past us wondering if they were actually having any fun.

It wasn’t until I saw a cross race, bought a steel-framed do-it-all cross bike, and conceived of rides like D2R2 that I realized I would have to get into better shape to accomplish my goals. I spent the spring and summer riding with Ride Studio Café to build a foundation, learn the vocabulary, learn skills, make contacts, and generally have an awesome time. Long group rides were the perfect training tools for a ride like D2R2, which I successfully finished in late August.

But approaching my first cross race, I was starting to worry I didn’t have any of the speed, strength, or stamina training that I needed. I didn’t know what SST, V02max, or intervals were, and I was starting to get nervous about that.

On the otherhand, several people at cross camp told me that fitness would come, but proper technique was paramount. Others said that racing is training – learn from your experiences on the race course.

For better or worse, I’m taking that advice to heart. Perhaps because historically I’ve never been a great competitor, I’m not too worried about not winning, especially as I’m getting my feet wet. I’m considering this season a trial run in which I spend more time learning than killing myself training. It might not be the winner’s strategy, but I’m taking it easy, having a blast, and considering what goals to set for next year. More on that later, but here’s a teaser: there’s a guy I saw on cross results who raced Cat 4/5 seventeen times and has ended up in the 50^th percentile each time. That’s not going to be me, because at some point, why bother?

Cutting corners

So after four races, and looking at a possible three week hiatus from cross (largely against my will, due to scheduling conflicts), I spent some time today researching cornering techniques. I’ve been asking some of my riding buddies for help with cornering, but they haven’t seemed to be able to communicate with me what I need to think about. Like learning the sand at Gloucester. Here’s what a few minutes of research turned up – you’ll find me in the park over the next few weeks working on my skillz.

Lee Waldman writes for Cyclocross Magazine:

He explained the technique. The counter steering is created by pushing down and forward towards the outside of the turn with the part of the bar that’s on the inside. It’s completely counter-intuitive. But, it works. We started slowly; Chris setting the line and my following. Slowly but slowly, I started to understand. He peeled off, following and offering immediate feedback. About half way through our second lap I started to really feel it. The bike would fall into the corner and almost rail itself out the other side. My turns began to get tighter, I was exiting on the inside of the course rather than the outside edge. The wheels weren’t skidding! And even when they were, I was so balanced over the bike that I hardly even noticed, I just kept on pedaling. What a difference! My speed picked up as my confidence grew.

Sean Ahmadi writes that corning skills are important(!):

Take a look at a typical Cat 4 race, which is about 45 minutes long. Usually the difference between first place and 10th place is less than a minute. A technical course could have as many as 20 corners (conservative estimate) in 5 minutes. Now let’s imagine you and another rider with the same power output. Let’s say this other rider takes a corner .5-1 sec. faster than you. That adds up to 1.5-3 minutes by the end of a 45-minute race. Now if that doesn’t get your attention and make you want to jump on your bike and start doing ovals and figure eights until you’re as dizzy as me when I get off the roller coaster with my kids, I don’t know what will.

Here are some other interesting links on cornering - I'm sure there are many more. Please share if you know some!

http://www.pinkbike.com/u/mtbstrengthcoach/blog/exercisesforcornering.html

http://www.pinkbike.com/news/strength-training-3-steps-faster-corners-2011.html

http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~fajans/Teaching/Steering.htm

Gran Prix of Gloucester, Day 2, ’13, Gloucester, MA, Mens 4/5

Ahh, Gloucester, the place where cross started. For me at least. Last year, I stood in the pouring rain watching people attempt a crazy off-camber turn on a hill of mud. This year, the course was comparatively drier, but shrouded in a dense fog. Visibility was probably 50-100 feet – fine for racers, but not so much for spectators. The fog would burn off by race-start, but not before I got a couple practice laps in.

This course was fun – much more interesting than the Midnight Ride. Something for everyone here. I had the same problems as on previous courses, in particular tenuous turning and poor confidence on loose dirt and gravel. I almost took a bad spill at high speed on a long section of gravel – somehow I stayed up, but not before my heart almost escaped my throat!

One thing I did practice and learn during my practice rides was how to ride in sand! Awesome! I put all my weight on my rear wheel and simply used my front wheel as a rudder! I had heard people talk about this, and finally it clicked for me. The sand section was straight, and I was confident I could reproduce it during the race.

My first half lap was pretty good. I battled pretty well from the line and was probably about mid pack when a nasty collision ahead threatened taking us all out. I stayed up and continued on. The course was thick with people and I managed to hold my own in traffic, all the way, in fact, until about 2/3 through the first lap. A guy in front of me took a spill in the sand, and down I went. I hopped back up, shouldered my bike through it, but the damage was done, many riders who I had passed whizzed past me, out of breath and momentarily demoralized.

The second lap wasn’t much better. A heckler (or a helper) tried to warn me about a patch of gravel, which I already knew about. For some reason, I ate it right there. Again, people whizzed past as I got up and remounted. I didn’t realize until my next lap that my knee was bleeding down my leg. Awesome!

But the third lap was the worst. About the same point I fell on the gravel, I realized I had a flat tire. Recalling my buddy at Midnight Ride, I grabbed my bike and started running. I knew I had a long way to go. Along the way, riders past me and cheered me on. That felt great. One guy said he had done the same thing (I remember passing him earlier). “Good on you!” said another. Racers were really supportive. Running sucked, but I made it to the pit and got a replacement wheel. A few hundred meters later, I realized the mechanic didn't fasten my rear brake. Great work, thanks man.

Suffice to say, I got lapped again. I was beat and ended up doing only four of five laps, and I finished at the rear. Not last, and in front of the guys that DNF’d. I hope they were ok, but if they were, they should have kept going!

I was also pretty stoked - I did manage to ride the sand in my other laps, and am looking forward to trying some turns in it.

The Midnight Ride of Cyclocross ’13, Harvard, MA, Mens 4/5

Jeremy and I got there around 2pm and got a few laps in. This is a flat, flat course. There was hard packed sand, a small table-top sand jump, some barns with lots of mulch, and my first uphill barriers.

This was a course in which cornering was key. There were lots of short, fast, straight sections, and lots of tight turns. My lines through the turns were atrocious. I slowed down a lot and had to use a lot of energy to get back up to speed. Other riders cut right past me on the turns.

My handling in the barns on the mulch wasn’t much better. I slipped several times and might have fallen once (I don’t remember). I ended up riding unclipped for that section for the remainder of the laps.

Again, my strength was the barriers. I managed to overtake people going over the barriers, and even the uphill barriers I managed to run past people and remount. But then they would overtake me on the turns again.

I also had more problems with number of laps. This time, I never even saw the lap cards. The only way I knew the race was over was that I saw people peeling off the course after the judges table.

I had a respectable finish, just barely in the top 2/3, but if my cornering and handling on the sand and mulch were better, I think I could do much, much better given the same level of strength and stamina.

One more note. A friend of mine got a flat and bailed on the race after the second lap. I thought to myself, why isn’t he running his bike? Yeah, he had a long way to go to get to the pit, but if you’ve come to work for 40 min, who cares if you’re running. It’s probably better to finish than not.

White Park ’13, Concord, NH, Mens 4/5

It was cool and foggy. Mens 4/5 was the first race of the morning, and I got three practice laps in before the start. The first lap seemed treacherous – this was a well-rounded course, more spread out that quadcross, and a real variety of terrains. There were several seemingly-improbably off-camber turns, a couple steep hills, and some pavement. One thing I learned was just how much worse my brakes were riding in wet grass. I almost ate it coasting into the barriers. I was moving faster than my legs could carry me running through the barriers (this would come up again in Gloucester). I’m not sure how I managed to avoid crashing, and I learned a good lesson. The second and third laps were much better. The off-cambers weren’t that bad in reality, and I gained confidence.

The race started, and as I have come to learn is usual, the first lap was chaos. In particular, everyone except the leaders who sprinted following the start and around the soccer field were all held up at the first off-camber turn. Lesson learned: if I’m going to be middle or back of the pack, inspect the early part of the course for potential bottlenecks and see where I can reserve energy.

For most of the rest of the race, I ended up battling with 2-3 other riders. One guy was great in the twisty woods and he would pull away from me. Then I would overtake him in the long, straight sections. I actually managed to beat that guy – awesome!

But I had problems with the laps again. This time I learned how the laps worked – after the second lap, the judges would extrapolate the number of laps the leader could finish in under 40 minutes, and then tell us how many laps remained. Unfortunately, even knowing this, I still messed up. I didn’t see the sign that said “4 laps to go” and instead thought I only had four laps in total. When I finished my fourth lap and saw “2 laps to go,” again, my heart sunk! I grit my teeth and kept going.

Then, halfway through my fifth lap, I noticed someone gaining on me. My first thought was that it was some jerk doing a practice lap. Then, by the time the guy came up on me I probably only had 1/5 the lap remaining and I realized it was the leader – lapped! I got on his wheel, but couldn’t pass him. The judges were clapping and said “good job” to him, and something else to me – I wasn’t sure what. I didn’t know if I was disqualified or what. So I kept going and did my sixth lap. Lesson learned – when you get lapped, you finish on the same lap as the leader.

Aside from getting lapped, I did fairly well for a beginner. I finished mid-pack, didn’t fall, and managed to clean almost all the turns. The one time I didn’t I had the presence of mind to unclip and get a foot down, so I stayed up. Another skill to work on!

Quadcross ’13, Maynard, MA, Mens 4/5

This was my first race. Although I was able to move quickly on straight, flat sections, my cornering was pretty bad and I lost a lot of time on twisty paths in the woods. There were also a couple steep climbs that I chose to run-up while other riders rode. I went fairly well over the barriers and even remembered to downshift properly beforehand so my remount would be ok. I consistently ran over the sand after a quick fall during a practice lap.

The hardest part was that I got tired quickly. I felt like I was going to puke during lap two, and I didn’t understand how the laps worked. The juniors’ race prior to my race ended after three laps, and I thought my race would be three laps, too. But when I pounded to finish my third lap and realized I had one more to go…my heart sunk. I was delirious and had a terrible time concentrating. I was parched in the dust-ridden air. The Masters 4/5 who started a minute after me all managed to pass me. I managed two fall twice on my final lap, both issues with cornering. Handling is definitely an area in which I need to improve.

Huge thanks to Erin S. who cheered me on!