As I arose early for coffee and breakfast the snow began to fall, mixed with occasional rain, and all I could think was, “Yep, today is going to be memorable, dare I say epic conditions.” 

I had kept my eye on the weather forecast our entire time in Oregon.  I not only wanted to know what the weather would be for all our races, but we still had to drive from Bend back to Portland.  Would it be too risky to go back over Mt. Hood or should I take another route?  I still did not want to use those chains!  The chance of rain and snow fluctuated while the cold temps were consistently between 30 to 38 degrees, but the sunshine occasionally helped make 38 feel like 45.  With my race at 9:30 AM on Saturday morning I knew there was a 100% chance of cold sloppy weather, and Mother Nature did not disappoint in that regard. 

Mentally speaking I was more at ease about the championship race than the time trial, but on race day I thought much more about the physical aspect.  The course itself was very challenging, but manageable all throughout once a pack strings out.  The way it was designed had it split in two; one side all sloppy mud with large puddles, and the other thick muddy grass with all the obstacles and barriers.  I was not concerned about the barriers or flyover, but I had never run up a huge flight of steps.

The hole I dug by crashing twice in the TT would put me approximately 15 rows deep on the start line.  I began imagining the start, clipping in smoothly, and going full bore as if I were attacking a criterium from the gun.  The start was a little over 100 meters of pavement before a left turn up a small rise that bent left into the ensuing muddy carnage.  Almost every race start I had watched prior to mine included a bad crash on that pavement section, so I was determined to be on my game in the beginning.  That first left turn was in theory the hole shot, but there was still another 100 meters of wide open sloppy mud before a tight 180 degree left forced everyone in a line.  The battle from the hole shot to that 180 caused countless pack crashes throughout the week, so I knew if I could stay upright the first 200 meters then everything would settle down.

As I rolled out of our house all bundled up there were huge flakes coming down on the slushy roads taking me the Old Mill District race venue.  This marked the beginning of critical mistake # 1 on the day.  I slowly rode to the venue hoping to not splash myself too much, but it was impossible not to soak my leg warmers.  My upper body, head and feet were dry and fairly warm, but my legs and fingers were getting cold too quick.  I found a nearby coffee shop to sit inside to avoid the steady stream of wet snow and 30 degree temp.  I stared outside and began fighting the mental battles again, “Wow, this weather is insane and it’s not going to change in the next 45 minutes,” I thought.  I waited until the last possible moment to go back out and push the pedals a little harder to get the blood flowing.  There was no way a “warm up” could happen today, but instead I should have been thinking of just “stay dry.”  Mistake # 2 was not having another set of dry clothes to put on once I became soaking wet.

As our start time approached I listened to the announcers screaming out how Steve Tilford was destroying the Masters 50-54 field, bare legs and all.  I already knew Tilford was an animal, but today his stock rose even higher.  I tried to stay in motion and not sit still, but once call ups began we all stood around waiting for our bib number to be called.  Everyone on the line was shivering cold, jumping up and down, and doing anything they could to shake the shakes.  The snow continued to fall as hard as ever, and because I was shivering so badly I became concerned my shaking would have a serious negative impact on my handling the first few hundred meters.  The 15 minutes prior to our actual start is easily the coldest time I have ever experienced on a bicycle.  Please, just fire that gun and let us start this race!

You may be thinking, come on Tim, was it really as you are describing?  I will allow the crew at Cyclingdirt.com to prove it for me with this video - Men's Masters 40-44 Cyclocross National Championships.  Can you hear me now?

The countdown finally begins and pow, we are off!  I clip in quickly and accelerate well as I pass a handful of guys right away.  I make sure to give myself and others plenty of room, after all, we are starting over 100 guys back.  We make the left turn hole shot, up the hill and down into complete muddy carnage.  I look ahead to see guys getting tangled up and going down on my left, so I go towards the right hoping not to get pushed into them.  I slowly make it through as everyone has to take a forced line since the pack has yet to thin out.  Another 200 meters into the race and the field is strung out snaking through the course.  I am able to continue passing a few guys having trouble, but even faster guys are able to blow by me.  At this point the goal is to keep the momentum going, find the best lines through the soupy mud, and keep the wheels upright.  I do keep things upright, but mistake # 3 is I should have used less pressure in my tires.  This didn’t cost me a fantastic result, but I would have struggled less pushing the pedals and rode slightly faster.

I make it through the first half and go into the section with the muddy grass and barriers.  I overcooked the drop leading into the barriers, but correct things quickly to jump over those and run my bike up the muddy chicane.  I look ahead of me and take a peak behind, and it is a sea of struggling men on bicycles.  We are all in this insanity together; us and all the crazy fans there to yell, cheer, and cowbell us to death as we cover ourselves in the elements.  I complete the first lap feeling more confident and hit the repeat button hoping to avoid all mishaps again.  I am not sure if I was getting faster, but I did feel faster and more fluid on the second lap.  However, at the top of those stairs my legs felt like watermelons.  I get through lap two with no worries, but I am definitely far back in the field.  The gap from me to the front has grown by several minutes, and the immediate gaps around me are large as well as small groups form all over the course.

I begin lap three with about five of us all within reach of one another, and it is at this point I begin to wonder if we will avoid getting pulled.  Surprisingly my feet and legs are no longer freezing cold, possibly just numb, but my fingers felt as if hundreds of needles were pricking me at the same time!  Shifting gears and hitting the brakes became very difficult because either my gloves would slip or I simply could not feel my fingers.  This meant I had to stay in one gear and make do for most of the next lap.  Adapting to my reality was quite a challenge, but I was determined to fight hard to the finish and give it everything I had.  My small group stayed together quite well as we begin to finish lap three.  I look ahead and see that a few ahead of us are not getting pulled, but as we approach the official he steps out, blows the whistle, and we exit stage right.

I am a little relieved the sufferfest has ended, but I feel slightly empty since the race continued for two more laps after we were pulled.  The results show I had moved up from my 126^th starting spot to finish 107^th.  You can see our 40-44 results here as the top 99 finishers were able to finish all five laps.  I immediately begin thinking of my TT result and its impact on my race start.  Had I started 50 spots ahead then I would have been assured completing the whole race.  However, had I finished all five laps I would probably be nitpicking about something else.

The effort required in a difficult road race or criterium is very different than cyclocross.  They are two separate animals each deserving respect.  On a cyclocross bike you get very little opportunity at recovery, and to excel you must produce threshold power or greater nearly the whole race.  I am challenged often on the road by the high level races I compete in, but the degree of mental and physical difficulty at cyclocross nationals was the toughest I have ever experienced.  Every step of the way seemed to contain an obstacle or fear I had to manage through.  It is exciting to think about the gains I can achieve with more experience and improved handling skills. 

The lap times proved how far the gap is from me to the best cyclocross racers in the country.  The top two finishers from Boulder Cycle Sport were posting lap times a full two minutes faster than I was.  I shake my head in wonder and remind myself I am new to this, a Cat 3 Master learning the ropes.  Those ahead of me have years of skill and countless races under their belt.  To put this into perspective it is the exact opposite experience for me at Masters road nationals; there I am the Cat 1 and others are struggling to survive.  This gives me some comfort, but I am still determined to overcome the gap. 

After coming back to Nashville I did some research on the top two finishers, and needless to say they are outstanding cyclocross racers by any measure.  The winner of my race, Pete Webber, also placed 20^th in the Elite race on the final day with several of teammates also in the top 25.  Webber and 2^nd place finisher Brandon Dwight are two of the best in all of Colorado.  The weekend before nationals in Bend they raced in the senior men Colorado state championship race as Dwight took 1st with Jake Wells of Hudz-Subaru 2^nd and Webber placed 3^rd.  You can watch the intensity of the Colorado state championship in this video here - 2010 Colorado Cyclocross Championships – Men. 

I found several outstanding interviews of Webber and Dwight conducted by 303cycling.com there in Boulder.  This first interview segment they discuss their success at the Colorado state championships, and in the second segment they share their thoughts on the national championship we endured in Bend.  It is good to hear the 2010 winner and defending 2009 champ Pete Webber talk about how insanely epic the day was for him as well!  Webber and Dwight are not done as they are off to Belgium to prepare for the Masters World Cyclocross Championship, and in this last segment they talk about that upcoming experience.  These guys are gunning for gold!  From listening to these interviews you realize they have honed their teamwork skills and know how to execute a game plan on race day.  They compliment one another well and are obviously a tandem to reckon with in any race.  I would not be surprised to see them both on the podium at Masters Worlds.  It will take me over a decade to reach their level, but since I’ll be on my bike anyway….. 

One more interesting post I came across was on Mudandcowbells.com by Gregory Keller, a teammate of Webber and Dwight on Boulder Cycle Sport.  Keller provides an entertaining breakdown of the same experience I went through, albeit with a ton more confidence, ability and high expectations.  I especially love what he has to say in the section titled “Epilogue”, which sums up quite well why all of us do what we do on a bicycle.

After the race I made my way back to our house to get out of my muddy wet clothes and warm back up.  Food and hot tub is all I thought about.  The experience was over and done, and I made it through without too much harm.  The previous two days had taken a lot out of me physically and emotionally, and while I was happy it was over I was secretly wishing to do it again tomorrow.  It is sinking in that we have just one more day in Bend.  I began to think about mistake # 4 - too much energy wasted on worrying about inadequacies and shortcomings rather than focusing straight ahead at the opportunity before me.  See the ball, hit the ball.  If only I would listen to my own advice.  At least I went down swinging. 

Cyclocross, you have my attention.  I will prepare and I will be back; next time without this heavy extra baggage.  Hide and watch me.