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I have my Sunday now down to a science. The morning arrives slowly and with no urgency. My cross race is in about 8 hours but it’s far from my mind as I feed the dog, which is the first thing every morning. The rest of my morning is a combination of food, work, rest and more food. Eggs, potatoes, toast…I try to eat as much as possible early because after about 12:00 I shift into semi liquid mode. Even for distant races this schedule varies little. The only difference is that my work, rest or food is on the road.

Around 10 or 11 I start to shift my mental state into the crazed attack dog psycho crosser I should be if I ever think I’ll place in the top 10. I eat my final meal and start to gather my gear, check the bikes, wheels, prepare my post race shake (bananas, walnuts, apple or pear, blueberries and recoverite from Hammer), small PB&J just in case I do need more solids, two water bottles (one with electrolytes and the other thick with Sustained Energy…another Hammer product), and finally I don my skin suit. Now I’m ready.

I used to arrive just before and line up cold and uncaring, now a days I arrive in time to gather my thoughts, register, find the team tent, say hi to friends, visually scope the course out and cheer on teammates with long trails of spit hanging from their chin. I get partially dressed and on my bike in time to pre-ride the course. After riding the course I should continue to properly warm up but I enter a strange lethargic pre-race zone. I’m content watching the people racing feeling oddly distant from it all. With about 1/2 hour to go I do start riding around to warm up.

I have as of yet to get a call up so I’m always stuck either in the middle or in the back. I’m noticing as the season progresses the field size is such that most people are getting call ups. For example I was number 9 and for this race it meant I was the first group after all the call ups. I was super stoked until standing in the middle of the pack looking forward and then back I was still at the later half of the pack.

We are now at the start, seconds away from shocking my system out of it’s casual Sunday mode. I will go from a calm, contemplative, standing position to a convulsive, lung busting, freak out. I have been told, and have read, that the race is determined in the first 3 laps, nay the first lap. The last thing my wife said to me as I headed to the start was “Kill yourself”. That’s how it is, who has it in them to endure more. I was determined to do just that, I was also determined to find every hole in the pack and take advantage of it. I wanted to be near the front long before the first lap is over. Did I succeed? Well…almost. Sabine has photos of me heading up one of the last hills in front a very large group. I was probably 10th or so. Not bad if you ask me. But her photos tell a sad story as well. Moment later on that same lap about 10 people in the large group can be seen in front of me. Several things happened in that small section near the end of the lap. I fell into the chain link fence, was painfully slow running up the hill on the back side, and was going anaerobic in a bad way. I was suffering.

For the rest of the race I fought to keep my position but lost some additional ground. I fought back and in the end got 24th…my best placing so far. It’s not much but I was pleased with the day. I love the mud and the course was challenging and relentless.

Some shots…
Exhibit A: Me close to the front

Exhibit B: The pack behind me

A much later probably last lap photo