Cross Crusade #1 - Allez et frites at Alpenrose

(Writing this with ice packs on my ankle/knee/hip (alternating), having snuggled up with an IPA. A quiet night around Hollywood...)

Backstory: rode my first cyclocross race today. I've spectated before, sure, I've been that cheerleading girlfriend - but never raced. Coming off of my first short-track season, it seemed a vaguely-feasible idea. Nevermind the no training, 'cross or otherwise, the tweaked hip, so on, so forth.

Friday marked the end of a somewhat odd week, for reasons various that I won't detail here. On a whim, mid-day, instead of buying myself a new sweater or booking a flight to Hawaii or whatever else people compulsively do - I signed up for two cross races. The first Cross Crusade race, and the second Blind Date at the Dairy.

Only a plank, not a six-pack. Still hard.Photo credit: Oregon Velo. 
I promise I'll buy pics @ the end of the season.
Please don't sue me.

Eeeee and gulp. Maybe I should learn some skills. (Um, now.)

Yesterday, I asked Ben to come with me and hit up the gentle slopes of Tabor, so I could practice this elvin-jumping routine that people do so well. You know - the leprechaun-leap on/off a bike at full-speed. Youtube will tell you how to do it, people can explain it in accessible ways - but it's still a hard thing to wrap one's mind around (at least for me).

So, nevermind hosting a party that went until 4am the night previous; Ben happily grabbed his mtb and we headed off to practice jumping on/off our bikes without disastrous crashy consequences, leaping over imagined barriers.  As someone who never did that whole "going to cheat and semi-ride my bike across the crosswalk" thing in 2nd grade, and who is not naturally graceful or coordinated, this felt particularly Promethian.

Cue some careful thinking, lots of eeping, grassy-soft-landing spots, and repetition. And I was appalled... I could kind of do this. Slowly, clumsily - but it was not completely impossible.

This morning we had a sensible breakfast of too much coffee and bagels with hummus. And I packed my racebag (foods, liquids, clothes) and hopped the MAX and a bus (listening to various tunes on the way) - to get out to Alpenrose in time to help with Kiddie Kross. (12-and-under, it's a no-fee non-competitive 'cross "race", sponsored by the BTA and facilitated by my rad coworker Tom.)

Greeted by coworkers and other bikey friends, the sea of (literally) thousands of racers and supporters seemed less overwhelming. I met kids at the KK finish line with medals, congratulating them on their fantastic races and cheering kids through the finish line. (Note: If there's anything more adorable than excited children on skuut-style bikes racing "cross"...)

That done, I took my lil' old singlespeed mountain bike out for a ride in the neighborhood, practicing mounts/dismounts on gravel patches and grass strips on the side of the road. I did laps up/down the grassy parking areas, fumbling through my elf-hops and trying to calm down and remember this was all quite possible. I chatted with Gerik, Rob, Ed about their races - and got ready for my 45 minutes of EEEEE.

Start line.  SO MANY PEOPLE. Racing low-cat collegiate road in the midwest, you never see 200? 300? women at a start line. I looked around the crowd - who can I outride, who's going to sink me, wow-that-bike-is-worth-as-much-as-my-monthly-gross-salary. Chatting with women at the start, I identified my three goals - "Don't die, finish, don't finish last."

"Oh, and smile, and have fun!" - one of them said...  (And I thought, yes - but this is also a cross race...?)

In some strange cocktail of random and logic, they called our numbers (split by the last digit in your race number) - my group was the next-to-last to make it to the line.

First lap, the hill after the run-up was so packed
with racers there was no space to ride down.Photo credit: Oregon Velo. 
I promise I'll buy pics @ the end of the season.
Please don't sue me.

...90+ people ahead of me, 10+ people behind me at the line...

...and we're off.

Off in a pack bigger than any I've ever ridden in (n=105 just in my category), but minus the etiquette of road. Also minus the drafting-mentality... I realize I can blow by people on the left (calling it out first, yes- I'm a big fan of communication in the saddle) because these ladies maybe don't know that gaps are for filling...

...as we roll around the course - so crowded first lap that the problem is not lungs or obstacles, the problem is so many people, blocking the course (I'm running up things I can ride, I'm running around people who can't) - I'm looking at people's bibs, trying to pick the most likely rabbit to chase down...

Go go go go...

...and some people pass me, but it's nothing like what I feared, me at the back with a cricket and a lot of "you can do it, little brudder!"-style cheering. I'm actually doing... pretty okay? And I'm passing folks more often than getting passed...
And the dismounts are not natural but they're do-able - I'm not the fastest but I'm not the slowest or the clumsiest. I hit my bike on the barriers once, I flub a elvin-jump once or twice, I dismount in a non-cross-fashion - but this is actually going really... well?

Yes, I feel like I'm going to puke. And yes, I'm tired and I hurt and I'm dreaming of stopping. And wishing that dust were somehow hydrating and/or full of oxygen.

And it's awesome. 

Regardless of placing  - I'm riding well. I'm following Ray Thomas's golden rule of riding (Don't ride like a prick!) - and I'm taking turns fast enough and picking it up sufficiently on the flat bits, chasing people and not being bested by barriers or the ninja-like Cat B field (all speed, no warning, minimal manners).

Yeah, I paused at the top of the run-up. No, I didn't always sprint all the way up to the planks before dismounting. No, I didn't grin at the photographers or take the stairs two-at-a-time. Yes, I got off my bike the "wrong" way (non-cross-fairy) twice.

And yes, I was happy to hear that we were on our last lap. And I passed the last beginner woman within sight, eyes halfway through the turn on the track infield (h/t Dale Hughes), and finished my race. 

Tired, sore, thirsty, dusty, sweaty, pink-faced.

The blurry photo gives the illusion of speed...Photo credit: Oregon Velo. 
I promise I'll buy pics @ the end of the season.
Please don't sue me.

And really freaking proud of myself.

Rob, Ed, Ben, and I watched the Cat A race, wondering at the agility of the riders as they danced through the infield. (Also stretching and eating fries - ahem - frites.) Ed and Ben and I rode back from Alpenrose together, with a pause for water and food for hungry me. 

On the way home, Ben and I stopped at Freddy's to pick up the essentials: two ice packs, one beer, a rotisserie chicken. I showered off the dirt, sweat, and sore while he made dinner. (Dear Ben, you are fantastic.)

Chicken, six kinds of veggies, and a cava-toast to my first-ever cross race. Delicious. 

Thanks to everyone out there who said hullo and screamed a something - Gerik, Susan, Chris, Margaux, Ed, Tom, Beth, Rob, and Ben. Special thanks to Ed and Rob for responding to frantic Friday messages and pushing me, gently, to go do it; to Beth for getting me out to short track (without her women's ss push, I wouldn't likely have done 5/7 races- without short track, I wouldn't have been ready for today). And, claro, thanks to Ben.

I'll update this with results and/or photos as I can get 'em -- otherwise, Cross your collective fingers for me on Wednesday. Smaller field, bright lights, and a school night, to boot. Whew!

Update: Results are up - but I don't think I believe them. I rode well, but did I pass 90 people? I doubt it. So I think that top-10 finish is a bunch of optimism. I've written OBRA to have them double-check -- I think I might be closer to the 3/4 lap split, more like 70 out of 100. Which, while less glorious, may reflect la verdad. We'll see what Candi says...