CX 2013 Race #5 - Results

Okay, so this season has been going pretty well for me. At least I feel like it's been going pretty well. Pretty well enough to be seeded to start in the front row for two races! What? I know. I can't really comprehend it either. That's me with my head down. I think my heart knows what the cross gods are going to serve up.

But like I said, I'm starting in the first row. I'm getting good starts. I've got new brake pads. The BeachCross course looks like it should work for me. I'm not sick. I'm not even sick at heart. 

And the start is fine too. I'm feeling good and the right guys are ahead of me, and right guys are behind me and it's already the third lap, and we hit the windy, grassy, leaf-covered section, and I look up and over to see who's coming up behind me (you know how it goes during a cross race where you start meeting the same riders and the same place on the course and you think, Huh, I thought/hoped I was going faster, but it looks like we're actually all going exactly the same speed) and sure enough there's RF about a turn and a half behind and I'm thinking that he might be gaining on me and I'm thinking some more (too much too much too much thinking - stop with the thinking already and keep your eyes on the track and ride hard dammit!) and then I'm watching my hand push its way through my front wheel, and I'm down. Off the bike. 

So I get up and get back on and push forward, but the wheel doesn't turn, at least not easily. Shit. It's probably just the quick release, I think. So I duck under the tape and pull it off the course to loosen the wheel and line it up again and spin it. But there is no spin, there is only a lot of wobble and bind, and I look up then at the line of riders that are long by and into the sand section, and then I'm thinking about stopping.
You know what it's like to want to stop. If you've raced a cross race, you know what it's like to want to stop. You also know what it's like to want to keep going. To need to keep going. Which is what I did. 

This all reminded me of two things. First the wise words of some fellow rider while on a technical mountain bike ride a few years ago: "Look where you want to go! Your bike will follow your eyes." Which makes so much sense. Which I hadn't been doing, because I was thinking about results and about who was behind me and by how much. And then I remembered a race two years ago at La Barriere where I was catching up to JS. I was sure of it. And I was looking ahead at him on the third time through this windy stretch and I was telling myself that for damn sure I was closer to him on this lap than the last one and I really wanted to beat JS because I should! I just should be able to beat him ... and then I was looking at the tape and then at the grass, and then my wheel was jammed against the brakes, and that time I could put it back and it was okay, but JS was long gone, and that was that. 

This is not a moral, this is a fact. Worrying about riding hard and well and watching the course and keeping your brain on the race works. Worrying about results and who's ahead and who's behind can and will fuck you up. So, here's me really smiling while racing. I'm usually looking pretty intense, or pretty gassed. I'm sure it was taken after I went down. After I'd given up the results and just decided to ride and enjoy the course, and riding after a whisky hand up changes things too.

So here's to riding with your kid (!) and recovering with friends, and not worrying too much about results. 

(But I'm terrible at following my own advice, so I'll probably be anxious as hell again, after the Thanksgiving break. Still Southern Cross will be awesome!)