1. The front cantilever brake noodle. Changing the brake cables and housing probably helped too.
2. Ankle protection. I've been scraping the skin off the side of my ankle in CX races for near three months now. Hm, maybe time to do something about it? Bought cheap shinguards, cut off the shin part, kept the ankle protector, and wore it for the race. Bingo, no more scraping.
3. Doping. I don't usually drink coffee or tea, let alone espresso like the pros, so giving me a beverage that recommends limiting intake to no more than three a day is pretty much putting me on the juice. Why this brand? 'Cuz they sponsor CCCX and I can swipe a can or two at the finish line to save for the next weekend; plus, I'm a sucker for any non-alky foodstuff flavored like Irish cream (er, sort-of flavored like Irish cream in this case).
Raced Livermore B and SSA on Saturday and it was fun, fun, fun (the best Bay Area race that no one does!). Raced CCCX B and SSA today and it was fun, fun, fun. Both bikes were working with no stupid mechanicals. I didn't have any major cases of stupid while passing or being passed. I had people to heckle me and cheer me on. My worst injury for the weekend is a set of puncture wounds from the neighbor's tomcat. Okay, the results were modest, I could go faster if I trained and did fewer races, but the weekend is not the time to worry about that.
I think the caffeine had me pretty well perked before and after the races, too, so thank you to all who put up with my inanity. Time to return to regularly scheduled programming...
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
CX futility index
A measure of achievement for those not fighting for podium spots in cyclocross races:
1. For each given race in a weekend, find your finishing position (number A).
2. For each given race in a weekend, determine how many finishers there were in your category, not counting DNS/DNF (number B).
3. For each given race in a weekend, determine A/B, your race finish ratio (maximum value 1).
4. Total your race finish ratios from the weekend to determine your futility index.
Whoever has the highest total "wins". What they win, I don't know. It's not just a competition about being mediocre, it's about being mediocre over and over again. (A DNF doesn't count because it implies some recognition of futility.)
Needless to say, I don't have any wonderful race results to report from this weekend, though I feel happy to have not destroyed any equipment or suffered any injuries beyond scratches and bruises. I couldn't pull off the "double double", not having enough left to finish a singlespeed race at CCCX after racing twice at Saturday's night race, and so lost a possible full point in my futility index--I'm okay with that. Once the results are up from Pilarcitos, I'll report my numbers...
1. For each given race in a weekend, find your finishing position (number A).
2. For each given race in a weekend, determine how many finishers there were in your category, not counting DNS/DNF (number B).
3. For each given race in a weekend, determine A/B, your race finish ratio (maximum value 1).
4. Total your race finish ratios from the weekend to determine your futility index.
Whoever has the highest total "wins". What they win, I don't know. It's not just a competition about being mediocre, it's about being mediocre over and over again. (A DNF doesn't count because it implies some recognition of futility.)
Needless to say, I don't have any wonderful race results to report from this weekend, though I feel happy to have not destroyed any equipment or suffered any injuries beyond scratches and bruises. I couldn't pull off the "double double", not having enough left to finish a singlespeed race at CCCX after racing twice at Saturday's night race, and so lost a possible full point in my futility index--I'm okay with that. Once the results are up from Pilarcitos, I'll report my numbers...
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
CX Santa Rosa #2 - Thick friggin' mud
By the end of my racing, I was sweating mud.
The forecast was for heavy rain on Saturday, not so heavy on Sunday--so we'll see whether Candlestick gets sloppy for tomorrow's race, but today's race in Santa Rosa seemed a lock for wet, soupy mud, and it was delivered. In the car on the way there, a little voice in my head was anticipating the conditions, as my best-ever results, a couple C wins, were at super-slop races. There wasn't much time for daydreaming, though, as Hwy 101 had little floods and heavy spray--definitely high-speed windshield wiper conditions.
I arrived a little after 11 and watched the women's race: dirty, dirty women...seemed sort of ominous. The spectators beside me were C racers who had finished and cleaned up, and reports were of inches-thick mud on the backside of the course.
With that little bit of intelligence, I went back to sit in the car, pin numbers and gear up for the 12.30ish start of the 35+B/B/45+B race. When time got close, I did a single lap to scout the course...and soon was filthier than I've been in a long time. Some of it soupy, some of it goopy, some of it spreadable like peanut butter, all mud. The bike was OK with it, except for one little catch of the chain that would come back to haunt me.
My B wave started at a gap behind the 35+B's (logic? don't know) with a short sidewalk stretch before hitting the good stuff. A makeshift plank bridge crossing a waist-deep creek led into the really tricky bit of mud, and the wiser little voice in my head told me to get off and run...so I did, and started passing all the riders trying bravely and "honorably" to pedal through the stuff. A more rideable stretch followed, then more thick muck that I ran--and it seemed as though, just maybe, I was leading the B's and tickling the back of the 35+B field!
All for nought, though. When it came back to the rideable sections, that little skip of the chain came back. I can't tell if it was a sticky link or a front derailleur issue, but if I tried to power down (which happens a lot in the mud), the chain would jam between the cage and the rings and forward motion stopped. After much swearing and a couple forced dismounts, I figured out that backpedaling could get the chain to reseat itself, so better; but there's a reason they don't teach you the cha-cha (two steps forward, half a step back) on a bike: it doesn't move you very fast. Soon, I was losing positions, and more positions, and more forced dismounts...
I would've liked to ride more. It felt good to be pushing under those conditions, and being able to run the ugly bits was really helpful in the B's, but if the bike don't roll, y'ain't gonna do so good. We'll see where I ended up in the results.
Once the B's were through, I suited up for the singlespeed race right afterward. Dave C. pointed out to me that the SS bike was perfect for the conditions, and he was right--who needs gears in all that goo? Things didn't start well in this race, as I almost immediately took a great glob of mud straight into my left eye, which took some furious blinking to clear out (I'm still scraping mud out of my eyesockets now). Three laps in, Josh S. lapped me, my back and a knee were whining, and I was too tired to be able to solve those sections of the course that perhaps I could've ridden earlier with a working drivetrain, so I pulled myself and was done.
Cleanup was a bitch. I would hose myself off, turn to cleaning the bikes, look back at myself and I was dirty again. So: sweating mud. Even after a shower, I'm sure I'll be picking grit out of crevices for a while. And there's yet more 'cross racing tomorrow!
Sorry, no pictures: it was pouring rain and after just a little bit of riding I was filthy enough to dirty anything I touched. Several photogs were prowling the course, though, so I hope some of those shots (though not those of me) end up circulating. Alternatively, I am totally empathizing with the top-flight riders in Belgium today: there are some glorious mud shots in this gallery at cyclingnews.com.
The forecast was for heavy rain on Saturday, not so heavy on Sunday--so we'll see whether Candlestick gets sloppy for tomorrow's race, but today's race in Santa Rosa seemed a lock for wet, soupy mud, and it was delivered. In the car on the way there, a little voice in my head was anticipating the conditions, as my best-ever results, a couple C wins, were at super-slop races. There wasn't much time for daydreaming, though, as Hwy 101 had little floods and heavy spray--definitely high-speed windshield wiper conditions.
I arrived a little after 11 and watched the women's race: dirty, dirty women...seemed sort of ominous. The spectators beside me were C racers who had finished and cleaned up, and reports were of inches-thick mud on the backside of the course.
With that little bit of intelligence, I went back to sit in the car, pin numbers and gear up for the 12.30ish start of the 35+B/B/45+B race. When time got close, I did a single lap to scout the course...and soon was filthier than I've been in a long time. Some of it soupy, some of it goopy, some of it spreadable like peanut butter, all mud. The bike was OK with it, except for one little catch of the chain that would come back to haunt me.
My B wave started at a gap behind the 35+B's (logic? don't know) with a short sidewalk stretch before hitting the good stuff. A makeshift plank bridge crossing a waist-deep creek led into the really tricky bit of mud, and the wiser little voice in my head told me to get off and run...so I did, and started passing all the riders trying bravely and "honorably" to pedal through the stuff. A more rideable stretch followed, then more thick muck that I ran--and it seemed as though, just maybe, I was leading the B's and tickling the back of the 35+B field!
All for nought, though. When it came back to the rideable sections, that little skip of the chain came back. I can't tell if it was a sticky link or a front derailleur issue, but if I tried to power down (which happens a lot in the mud), the chain would jam between the cage and the rings and forward motion stopped. After much swearing and a couple forced dismounts, I figured out that backpedaling could get the chain to reseat itself, so better; but there's a reason they don't teach you the cha-cha (two steps forward, half a step back) on a bike: it doesn't move you very fast. Soon, I was losing positions, and more positions, and more forced dismounts...
I would've liked to ride more. It felt good to be pushing under those conditions, and being able to run the ugly bits was really helpful in the B's, but if the bike don't roll, y'ain't gonna do so good. We'll see where I ended up in the results.
Once the B's were through, I suited up for the singlespeed race right afterward. Dave C. pointed out to me that the SS bike was perfect for the conditions, and he was right--who needs gears in all that goo? Things didn't start well in this race, as I almost immediately took a great glob of mud straight into my left eye, which took some furious blinking to clear out (I'm still scraping mud out of my eyesockets now). Three laps in, Josh S. lapped me, my back and a knee were whining, and I was too tired to be able to solve those sections of the course that perhaps I could've ridden earlier with a working drivetrain, so I pulled myself and was done.
Cleanup was a bitch. I would hose myself off, turn to cleaning the bikes, look back at myself and I was dirty again. So: sweating mud. Even after a shower, I'm sure I'll be picking grit out of crevices for a while. And there's yet more 'cross racing tomorrow!
Sorry, no pictures: it was pouring rain and after just a little bit of riding I was filthy enough to dirty anything I touched. Several photogs were prowling the course, though, so I hope some of those shots (though not those of me) end up circulating. Alternatively, I am totally empathizing with the top-flight riders in Belgium today: there are some glorious mud shots in this gallery at cyclingnews.com.
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