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?