PIR Mstrs 1,2,3

After such a beautiful weekend it was depressing to read the weather forecast and see they were predicting rain and wind just hours before PIR. But I was determined and loaded up my gear into my water proof bag and went to work under sunny skies prepared for rain. And rain it did. I rode to PIR with only enough time to sign up, throw my pack on the ground and line up. I was already cold and would have liked a bite of something just to trick my stomach into thinking I was prepared.

12 souls lined up. A small group to be sure. For me I was pleased, small group means less chance of a crash. (Although the reason I like the masters group is that to this day…knock on wood…I have not been in, nor witnessed a crash). The race was interesting. I was only wearing my skin suit (everything else was being washed) and each time I got behind someone it was like standing under a frigid mountain water fall…in the winter…in the evening…naked. The experience kind of takes your breath away. But a draft is a draft.

Erik Voldengen seemed to be having fun as he was constantly shooting off the front. I decided to do the same and looked back to find Erik and another chap on my wheel. This was for a preem so we forged ahead leaving the pack behind. Heading down the final sprint I knew my position was foolish as I could feel my legs burning and the two guys behind me where rested and itching to go. The thought did cross my mind that maybe, just maybe they’d let me have the win out of pure gratitude for me pulling them around for half a lap. But alas this was not to be. (Can’t blame them, it’s how the game is played) Id did get my revenge later when Erik was off the front, quite a distance away. I dug deep and managed to bring the whole group back up to him. :-p

The race went on like this for some time. One guy off the front, the pack would work together to reel them in. After each preem the pace would slow to a crawl. On each preem I tried to position myself but just don’t have the legs nor the timing to pull off a sprint. And it was this thought that crossed my mind on the final lap. I found myself in front heading down the backside of the loop. The wind is at our backs and I was grappling with my situation. Do I ease up and reposition myself. I knew all to well how that turns out. It occurred to me that I could and probably should just attack. So far, each person who has attacked has survived for at least a half a lap, and that is all I would need. But this is the final lap..surly they wouldn’t let me get away…add to that there is no element of surprise, I’m at the front for all to see. I decide with my poor sprinting skills it was better to try and get caught than to hold up and finish in the field.

Off I went. I didn’t stand, I just picked it up enough to get away. When I looked back to see that it was working, I pushed harder out of sheer joy and the thrill. I kept saying to myself this was a death sentence. My legs where burning, my lungs bursting and I had not yet turned into the dreaded wind tunnel. As I was rounding the corner I looked back to see the pack still a ways back. Far enough to give me hope. This made me dig deeper. The final straight into the wind is the longest damn stretch. You can see the finish but it’s far and distant. By now my breathing is audible. I’m looking back every 3 seconds. The pack seems far but I fear it’s just deceiving and that once fully ramped up it was only a matter of time.

Crossing the finish line, alone, and in first was a thrill. I realize the circumstance where different with a small group, bad weather and such but it’s my first official win since moving to Portland and everyone came up afterwords and congratulated my win. That warmed me up more than anything.

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Derwyn, April 27th 2010 | Tags: , ,
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End of the Cross Season 09

I did not post my USGP race because it was something I’d rather forget. It wasn’t that things went badly but more that it represented the bottom of a slow downward spiral since this start of the cross season. I felt for this season I had trained reasonably well and after my first two races felt confident my fitness would improve, but it didn’t. there was a moment in USGP where I was riding in the front of a group and someone, in the group, yelled – “are we on a Sunday stroll?”. At the start of the race I felt as if I was half asleep only going through the motions because I’d paid to be there. Any time I felt I was warming up I’d get passed. Each lap I kept looking back to ensure at least SOMEONE was behind me. There always was, but moments later I’d look back again to see them all backed up behind me. They’d pass and I’d try and stay on the the last wheel only to loose it on the first corner. There are many factors but the sum of it all made for an unpleasant day. So on Sunday for the second USGP I called a friend and we went for a leisurely ride with a stop for coffee in the middle.

Fast forward to Nationals. I was nervous, hesitant and not 100% committed. The snow, cold and ice only served to shake me up more. My race was at 9:30am on Saturday. I arrived Friday to watch many people crash hard. I just wanted it to be over so I could finish the season and move on to other things (XC Skiing). Saturday morning arrived and I headed out at 7:30 to pre-ride the course. It was beyond slick. Many others had also come out with the weak dawn light to slide around. It was almost comical. I did two laps and went home crippled with fear. As 9:30 approached I headed back out to warm up a tad and then line up. 127th to be specific. My goal was simple, no injuries and try to place somewhere better than 127th.

The sun had come out and there had been a race just before mine. Unbeknown to me the course had softened quite a bit. The gun went off and all 200 of us took off in a flash. At the start there was a pile up, I can still hear the sound of tires, metal and many grunts and exclamations. I was far enough back to react and not fall prey to the carnage. My main worry was the group behind me (although there were not that many people to be honest). Having survived I navigated around the blur of bikes and people. By the time I as on my bike the group ahead was rounding the first corner. A quick sprint and I was on a wheel.

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Much to my delight the course was surprisingly tacky and fast. I moved up the field passing, passing, passing. I felt great. Each corner I’d shoot the inside and get the lead of those in front of me. On the first lap I ran the hill on the far end and even ran it all the way down the return. This worked great the first lap but proved to be more effort than was necessary. Subsequent laps I would ride the whole thing as was everyone else.

Feeling great and completely enjoying myself it was about lap 3 or 4 that I came down a sharp drop off and heard the oh so telling sound of Pfffffft sffft sfft sfft followed by the jarring sound of dirt and rock to metal when only separated by a piece of rubber. Time to run… To be honest I feel like I’m a good runner and can hold my own speed wise, but somehow with a bike on one shoulder and hard ass shoes with metal spikes on the front I found every step felt like a hammer to my heel. By the time I made it to the pit I had lost a good 15+ places and literally strolled up to the Shimano tent. They reacted with speed and efficiency while I took a moment to gather myself.

Back on the bike the rest of my race went just fine. I regained a few of my lost places due to the flat but otherwise felt like my first Nationals experience was a success. Final result 75th.

That same day Sabine and I went XC Skiing with the dog. While I was tired from the race it was great to be on ski’s surrounded by clean white snow. I have great plans for next year…I know, I know, I say that every year but I honestly feel like I learned more this year than any other.

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Derwyn, December 14th 2009 | Tags: , , ,
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Crosscrusade #4 : Washington County Fair Complex

The frustration continues…

I will begin this post with a declaration of my love for this sport. I am, without a doubt still having fun. Why the oddly out of place announcement? Because if I’d said this after my post you wouldn’t believe me.

I showed up early enough to ride the course and get warmed up, however fate would once again wield it’s undesirable power to screw things up. I was practicing one particular corner when I noticed my rear tire was flat. Again!? Flabbergasted, I figured I’d screwed the valve up when releasing some air. 30 minutes later after running around looking for pumps, tools and a miracle, I was back at the car grabbing my spare wheels. (Things have gotten so bad for me that I now bring two bike AND a spare set of wheels)

At the start I was cold and not very warmed up. Taking off I did not feel very spunky and lost some ground. I can’t explain my apathy. My wife says she thinks it’s a combination of me working too much and all my technical problems that is slowly sapping all my enthusiasm. I know I can do better and the continual disappointing placements might be having an effect on my desire to push those boundaries. At the end of each race I’m not coughing, I’m barely tired and that is a clear indicator of not trying.

The worst of it all is the fall. Not on the mud, not on the grass, not even on the gravel…instead I decide to fall on the pavement. I was leading a group that I had just passed so I was probably pushing too hard. My front wheel when out and I went down. Right hand first, forearm, then the shoulder. I can still feel the absorption of the impact. Nothing broke but the I have some glorious road rash in 4 places. (The knee is the worst)DSC_0241

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I finished the race feeling kind of cool with my bloody knee. When done I sheepishly tried to cut into the bike wash line to rinse the horse poo out of my open wound. Someone calmly pointed me to the first aid tent. Duh.

This was my first time with the first aid. The looked at me and without a word started getting the sponges and bandages out. The cleaning and scrubbing hurt but I was still numb from the race. I was very thankful and they did an awesome job.

So lets summarize, flat tire, back half of the pack, road rash…can’t wait till next week.

I’m just thankful that my team still finds it in their hart to cheer for me when I pass.

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Derwyn, October 27th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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Crosscrusade #3 : Sherwood Forest

You go out, you do your best and the universe shits on you.

The last number on my bib is 9. So far this season a lucky number, but today it placed me second the last. The folks in dead last get a six pack of beer and a guaranteed spot up front next week, so second to last is really the true complete losers of the field for that day. I didn’t care though, I had my new tubulars, my head was on straight, I had pre-rode the course and I felt like I ate enough but not too much to throw up. Even at the start with the spinning wheels, bodies everywhere, dust in the air, and the cheering crowds things went well for me as I moved up a fair amount. Descending into the forest towards some mud, I muscled my way into position and followed the perfect line and continued to work my way past people. Things were looking up.

Of course I’m panting as usual but there is a sense of fearlessness surging through me. Some of the descents felt more like fast mountain single track, I was flying, in control and beaming with joy. For one hill I did mistime my shifting and ended up losing a lot of ground as I heaved my way up…one…slow…peddle stroke…after another…until I could get to a spot to downshift. By the time I saw 3 laps to go I was loving this race. I didn’t know where I was at but I was not losing ground to my rivals and gosh darnit, I was having fun.

I did go through my ritual mental anguish of pain and doubt, wondering what drives me to do this and debating a quick exit. The money, the time, the stress, it all comes down to this odd hour of racing that forces you to dig into places you don’t normally go. Today, I dug deeper in search of my strength. What emerged was a bit of crazy and a flat front wheel. The crazy I could deal with but the flat brought me to tears. I flatted just before the pit where I decided a mere 45 minutes ago to NOT put my second bike in because it was too far. I was mad at myself, the organizers for putting the pit just out of my lazy zone, and the universe for callously throwing away what little joy I was having. Even the time seemed odd. I was in a non bumpy, non rocky, smooth fun section. I had just used some of that crazy I had found to nudge passed this guy who was determined not to be nudged. I was elated at my determination and forcefulness when my tire went dead. And just like that the universe changed it’s tune and sent me home crying.

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Derwyn, October 19th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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Crosscrusade #2 : Rainier High School

This should be brief. My lungs are thrashed, I’m coughing and sound like I’ve just recovered from a 2 week long chest cold. I recently finished shoveling down a home made chicken burrito and fell asleep on the couch listening to a documentary on the birth of Jazz in America. I awoke and decided I’d best log the days events before slipping off into a deep post race sleep.

Once again I was lucky with my number 9 and was placed only a few rows back from the leaders. Rainier has a long hill, half of which is paved that I seem to dread each time. Although, in years past I have used this hill at the start to my advantage by going all out to move up. Today would be no different. I went hard from the start and was in the top 15 at the top of the hill…the price? Leg spasms. I eased back, breathing hard and tried to recover. A few passed. Down the long dusty dissent I found myself getting passed so more, maybe I felt a bit timid with my clinchers pumped to full capacity. I was getting bumped around and did not feel connected to the dirt. Later I would get my groove on this section but needless to say I lost some ground.

Progressing through the course there would prove to be some areas of utter disdain. One rutted out section was so bumpy that no matter how hard I pushed my petals I seemed to move backwards. There is also a back section where the incline pushed my legs to the brink and throughout all of this I was breathing to the point of gasping.

The race continued much like this. where I ended up I do not know. People claim I looked good and did well. The reality though is that I need to figure out my mid week training if I want to do better. I’m already thinking about next year but it’s way to early for that.

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Derwyn, October 12th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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Crosscrusade #1 : Alpenrose

A complete and utter disappointment. Everything started off well enough. I rode to the venue and felt nice and warmed up. I ate well all day and brought my new secret pre-race combination. My number ended in “9″ which put me right behind the called up folks. Everything was hunky dory. Even my start was good. I was well positioned in about 15th and considering the size of the field I felt good about that.

But then everything started to go horribly wrong. Normally on each corner I feel my tubulars grip and I feel one with the dirt, today my tire kept sliding out. Not a slip but a roll, my tire felt flat. I kept looking down but it seemed fine, maybe a bit low but not flat. This was lap one. For three more laps I’m uneasy, I’m losing position and feeling timid on the corners. Then on lap 4 it’s totally flat, rim to dirt flat. It’s a horrible feeling as the rim grinds over the rocks and bumps. I roll into the pit, change wheels and I’m off. I’m feeling a bit better despite losing so much ground.

I’m way off pace and can’t tell how far away I am. I do about two laps with my new tire when my front catches on a corner and rolls. I jump on and ride it with the tire going phumpf, phumpf, phumpf for every revolution. At the foot of the steps I decide it’s unsafe and stop to take another look. I roll it back on and head out. Timid once again I decide it’s best to not hit the pits but to just be careful on the corner. As I approach the pits I hear Dave yelling if I need a tire. What the hell, riding with the rolled tire sucks. I roll into the pit a second time, change the tire. (I need to file down those darn lawyer nipples because that along cost me two places)

Off again with probably 2 laps to go. At this point the race is a wash. Maybe I can gain one place. I see a guy and chase him down. I finish, tired but in no way exhausted. Just a downright lame ass race. Add to that the new pressure to not gain points for the overall team. Sorry guys, the technical crap today probably added a good 15 points to my place.

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Derwyn, October 5th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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Hood river double cross Day 2

These early season races are meant to be a learning experience designed to work the kinks out. Today was a perfect example. I DNF’d after doing a super man over some barrier to avoid the rider’s bike ahead of me, which had stayed behind while the rider kept going. The sad thing is I could have continued, which leads me to my first lesson.

1. Know your equipment: When I did the super man my bike took a hard hit and appeared to have broken the left brake. I looked like it was just dangling there. This will be my first year on Sram Rival and it’s been taking me a while to get used to. Turns out after the adrenaline died down the shifters have a kind of break away. (Intentional?) Regardless, I could have just popped it back in and continued. Bummer.

2. Ride the chain back on: This hurt me the most. My first biff into a barrier (It was all about timing) dropped my chain. I tried to manually put it back on. I lost 5+ places when I gave up and jumped on shifted up and popped it back on. Dumb, Dumb, Dumb!.

3. Work on remount: Whenever it’s fast and bumpy I hesitate and do the little hop jump. Need to work on remounting with speed and a bumpy surface.

4. Work on the start: I was in the back which I can deal with but my start is still slow. I watched others move up quickly while I remained in back.

The good news is that I felt good, was well positioned and riding well. I was able to get on people’s wheel over take them and move up. I felt solid and in control, my cornering was fluid and overall I felt fast over the barriers. A good start to the season despite the DNF and some minor scrapes.

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Derwyn, September 21st 2009 | Tags: ,
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PIR 08.03.09

Aaaaarrrrrgh! Yup, that about sums up my PIR experience today. A DNF! That totally sucks. I just don’t get it. Am I getting weaker or is everyone else getting stronger? Ok ok, I’ll cut myself some slack. I mean, hell, last week was about the most lethargic week off one can imagine. 100 degree days with little relief at night. I still diligently rode to work each day but my motivation beyond that that this side of zilch. AND THEN! (That’s right more excuses) today as I’m leaving to ride to PIR (Uh huh, I rode to PIR!…excuse count 2) I notice my tire is a bit squishy. I’ve been noticing little nicks of glass and it’s been on my mind so I take a closer look. Well wadda know, there is a section of tread missing down to the guts of the tire. I search for a wheel in the garage, but this is a 10 cog so, um, no. I have a 9, can I throw a 9 on there? Not sure, best not risk it. Do I have a tire? Yes, but it’s an all weather beast and it’s on another rim. Best take that. (excuse count 3) Umph, grunt, pull, prod, pump….shit! Pumps not working. Where’s my second pump!? Ah! it’s in the car, with the wife, drat! Hmmmm? How broke is the pump? It seems to get the tire to 50psi and begins to piss air out the side. Have I mentioned that this is the heat of the day and I’m starting to run out of time so the stress level is rising (excuse count 4).

Breath. I’m getting all worked up over nothing. If I don’t make the race who cares. Anyhow, new beast of a tire on, 50psi and I’m off with 45 minutes to get to the race. If I hustle I can make it. I’m pushing hard (excuse count 5)…really hard. Legs burning hard. Some guy (George) hooks on the back. Turns out he’s going to PIR too. Cool. No I mean reeeeally cool. I was going a route I had only gone once and was obviously confused. He showed me the way. Thank you. This was a huge blessing because through the max and bus mall at the rose garden the lights refused to turn. 3 light turns later cyclist began to run them. Darn city lights. Of course this sent my panic state to a new frustrating level.

Anyhow, after all that I make it to the race and find myself hanging out in back with the hairies. (I just made that up…no offense, I realize the absurdity and geekiness of shaving my legs). I’m hurting and hanging on after only two laps. I do spend some time up front. It was interesting. There was this moment of euphoria where it seems my legs popped and not the popped as in we’re done but a clarity, a rejuvenation, a spring. They felt cool and comfortable, strong and willing. I was quickly moving towards the front. Of course this only lasted about 2 or 3 laps but it was pure bliss. Can’t explain it. Well, 5 laps to go I fell back…waaaay back. The last guy said “I’m the last hop on”. I did and then 1/2 laps later I popped. This time it was a pain in the legs kind of pop. There is a side of me that says I could have fought through the pain, I know I’ve done it before but with the ride home, my neck muscles hurting, cramp in my calf, blah blah wine wine. So I popped 5 excuses later.

I did, however, ride home strong. I must say, I was feeling and looking like a racer after a tough race. My legs are getting tan from the riding (mostly commuting) and garden work and the grime from changing the tire, sweat and road debris just added to the post stage race look. It motivated me as I pushed the 12 miles home. It was a cycling geek moment.

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Derwyn, August 4th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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PIR 07.20.09

Hot, dry, windy, hot. Perfect day to ride from home to PIR to race my butt off then to home again. I’m still drinking water. I even took a cold shower when I got home. During the race around each sharp corner I could have sworn that my tires were slipping on the soft asphalt. It was a very strange feeling. However by the last 4 laps it felt less mushy…my imagination? Hard to say. I could have been hallucinating, there were moments where I was asking myself if I’d know the signs of heat exhausting. Especially with 5 laps to go and the last drop of my water was gently rolling down my tongue.

Somehow I always survive despite always trying and talk myself out of finishing. I probably only fail to fail because I’m too stubborn. It’s not determination as much as it apathy. Pushing myself forward is almost easier than finding the right moment to quit. So I sit, then I get bored so I go up front to play until my legs scream then I fall back to recover and debate quitting until I get bored round and round. But today I was mostly up front. So how is this fun? Its a game, a back and forth match play between the mind and the legs. The mind tries to call the shots but relies on the legs to cooperate. The legs are sly in that they pretend to do the minds bidding but never reveal the whole truth. The mind says “Give me everything?” but the legs only give 80% and then complain bitterly when it’s too hard. The mind relents and allows the legs to recover. The legs then sit back and milk the rest for all it’s worth. However, when it really matters the legs can surprise the mind and pull out a whopping performance. This moment of cooperation is nirvana.

I felt nirvana today. I was not winning, I wasn’t even close but it was the end of a very hot race where I had pushed my legs numerous times to the limit and felt there was nothing left. Yet there I was sprinting for the finish relaxed and feeling strong. Albeit in the middle of the pack.

One final note. To all you side-nose-snot-blowers, suck it in and swallow it! I’m not interested in having your snot sprayed into my face in the middle of a race! Or at least fall to the darn back. Geese.

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Derwyn, July 21st 2009 | Tags: , ,
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Final Tabor 09

I have only been on my bike once except for a 1.5 hour ride in 10 days (and not counting my daily 15 minute commute but I don’t think it counts). So going into Tabor today I had a sense of dread…but then again I always do. The race started as usual other than me being in front at the whistle but that quickly changed. Today I had a grand experiment. A friend started racing again in the Cat 4’s and works with a Cat 2. My friend, the Cat 4, was asking me about gearing and I mentioned that I tend to hang out in my big ring for the whole hill. He mentioned that the Cat 2 said most tend to shift down into the small ring. Hmmm, this got me to thinking. Maybe I’m whacked and this is what’s killing me each race.

So the first hill arrives and I’m about to set my grand plan in motion except I’m feeling good. Regardless I force myself to downshift. I sit the whole way up and feel pretty good with the end result, but it is the first lap. 2,3 tick off without incident but I definitely feel my lungs. My other experiment is more positive thinking. I’ve been hard on myself and did some mental prep at the beginning. Deep breathing and visualizing me at the front. About lap 4 or was it 6 my mental optimism is beginning to crumble. Visions of DNF start appearing. The though of quitting brings a smile to my face as I visualize me sitting in the grass. It’s about here that I always go into a state of numbness. I loose count and never remember to look at the lap counter. I’m in a fog. At one point as the pack races down the backside for a 15 dollar preem. I start considering killing myself for the preem. The argument goes like this. I have NO chance of winning, I’m feeling the hurt and for all I know in my fog it’s lap 4 with 5 to go. And 15 bucks would pay for my race. However, I’m seriously considering it when I realize that we are starting up the hill and I’m in the very back. Oh well, the chance was slim any how.

The fog continues and I am always surprised to hear one lap to go. Already? I never believe it but at the same time I’m always relieved. I survived. On the final climb the field gets away. I’m not sure if I let them go or if I had nothing left. A combination I suspect. As for the experiement I watched the 2 fly by and felt it was about 50/50 big ring to small. For me I felt the small allowed me the spin but it worked my lungs more and my legs still hurt. I could go either way at this point.

Tabor is bitter sweet. I dread each race going in, exhausted coming out, it’s short, painful, emotional draining, and confidence deprecating. I’m glad when it’s over and once again look forward to PIR. Why don’t I just do PIR? I have no idea. Maybe a love for pain. PIR is less pain and more an opportunity for a good ride with teammates on the weekday.

Tabor also gives me a clue into my Cross fitness. So I never expect much but always hope for more. Till next year.

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Derwyn, July 16th 2009 | Tags: , ,
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