Burn out

I'm still trying to catch up our blog - still have a ways to go, however. The below entry chronicles SCPS #12 held on Nov. 22 at Lake Casitas in Ojai...oh yeah, it was the District Championships too.

The 1000 mile stare. Photo by Richard Murphy.

I'm not as talented as Taberly, I have to carry my bike over the barriers.

The burnout that set in at Bakersfield and got worse at SLO hit its peak at the District Championships at Lake Casitas outside of Ventura, CA. I had no motivation to train during the previous week and getting everything together for the races was becoming a chore. On top of everything else, because this was Districts, the A and B masters would be combined making for a much faster race. Plus it was the longest one day there-and-back drive that we'd be making for a SoCalCross race this season. At least it was a pretty venue.

The course was similar to last year's: well balanced, good flow, a standard double barrier, a stair section, and a hoppable log. There was also a ~300 m paved headwind section that really favored sitting in a draft (if you could find one). Not much to report here about the race itself. The 35-39 and 40-44 groups started together with the series Masters 35+ 3/4 points to be picked out of the final results (thanks to Chris B. for sorting through that headache). I raced as hard as I could and ended up in 13th out of 17 for the district 40-44 race and 7th out of 13 for the Masters 35+ 3/4. Not one of my better results of the season. The burn out was showing...time to pick it up or pack it in.

Dinorah had a good race finishing with a 3rd place medal in her age group. O had a great time - she had a blast riding S's balance bike from the top of a berm, down the slope, and making an off-camber U-turn around a tree....a cyclocross racer in the making if I ever saw one.

The Elite Men's race was a dramatic affair, with the suspense going down to the last few hundred meters. Although the course was more than selective enough for the other fields, a large group of leaders stayed intact until the Elite's final lap when Sid Taberlay bunny hopped the barriers and threw down a viscous attack opening a large gap on Gary Douville, Brandon Gritters, and Ned Overend (yes, that Ned Overend), while defending SoCal champion, Brent Prenzlow was chasing back after a tangle with Mark Noble. In the end, Taberlay stayed away for the win with Douville claiming second, and Prenzlow making a huge effort to move up into third place. Since Sid is an Australian national (and Australian national champion) he's not eligible for the district jersey so Douville got the gold and the Bear, Prenzlow got silver, and Gritters got the bronze.

Time for me to climb up on my soapbox...I was really happy to see the expansion of championship categories for the Masters Women fields. I think this is really beneficial to growing the sport despite the small number of women in some of the fields. However, I really think that championship medals and jerseys should NOT be awarded to non-elite or non-age group categories. That is: Elite Men, Elite Women, Jr. Boys 10-14, Women 55+, etc. are appropriate championship categories. Men CX 4, Women CX 3/4, Masters Men 35+ 3/4, etc. should not be eligible for a championship. Furthermore, I think we should consider holding the District Championships separate from any series. Trying to juxtapose regular series racing on top of all the age group categories leads to confusion for the organizers and racers alike.

Make sure to check out our photos from the day on Flickr. I especially like the below shots of Sid Taberlay bunny hopping the barriers:

9 out of 10 times, Sid cleaned the double barriers....

...1 out of 10 times, he didn't.

Goose down

The end of the cyclocross season and the onset of the holiday season was incredibly busy. With the holiday break, I've been trying to catch up on the blog entries. This first installment covers Dog Gone Cross in San Luis Obispo back in mid-November.

Oooh, a dollar! Photo by Meghan Gallagher - originally uploaded at CenCalCycling.

Remnants of an unlucky goose.

"Come on Dad, let's race!"

Despite the fact that Dino had just returned from visiting her family in Texas with the kids, we decided to make the 5 hour trek up to San Luis Obispo for SCPS #10 - Dog Gone Cross. It wasn't too hard of a decision as the SLO area is one of our favorite areas to vacation. We got a late start on Saturday and had to fight a bit of LA traffic but arrived in Pismo Beach in time to check into our hotel, do some shopping, and have a nice dinner at F.McLintock's in Arroyo Grande.

The next morning, we headed north to the venue in SLO. Since we were transporting the beer from series sponsor Stone Brewery, we were allotted a prime parking spot (thanks, Jeff!) so that we could easily unload our hoppy cargo. Race prep was pretty much the usual for us but Dino was a little too chatty and didn't immediately take off to pre-ride the course at the end of the race previous to hers. She was going to go to the start line but I looked at my watch and told her to take one lap as fast as she could and she'd be fine and very warmed up for her race. Well Dino rode fast but the ref was sticking to his watch which was 5 minutes fast (I'm not kidding here) despite the other women on the line asking him to wait...so Dino missed her start. It was painful watching her race solo the entire race, slowly working her way up through the back markers. After the race, Dino drew dog-sitting duties for Gu, the Great Chiweenie, so she didn't have a chance to dwell on her misfortune.

Needless to say, I went to the line extra early to avoid a repeat of what happened to Dino (yes, we started 5 minutes early too). The course was mostly long straights with a few technical sections thrown in. It turns out that the original course design (which would have been great) had to be abandoned after the city threw a fit and made the promoters stick to established trails only. The result wasn't a particularly wonderful course - but it wasn't awful either. My biggest criticism is that two of the barrier sections were logs that had dirt on the approach and pavement on the exit - neither dismounting nor remounting on pavement is ever fun. On the first lap I stayed near the front as we made our way down the long (~400 m) paved starting straight. Dave Turner and Robert Langone got a gap soon after the second barrier section. I could see them on the start/finish straight at the end of the lap but didn't try to bridge up as I was worried about pulling the three other riders on my wheel across the gap and setting myself up for a counter attack. That was probably a mistake - oh well. Our group of four continued together with Miguel Sutter and I pulling most of the time and occasionally throwing down an attack. Our third lap had an interesting feature: just after the last barrier before the finish straight, a group of spectators had brought a fishing rod and reel, a clothes pin, and a piece of bacon. Yes, it was a bacon prime. I went for it and was rewarded with a mouthfull of smoked pork goodness. Probably not great race food but tasty nevertheless. The next lap also had a bit of excitement as just past the finish line, we rode through a flock of geese and ducks who had decided to reclaim a favorite piece of sidewalk despite the fact that bikes were flying by at over 20 mph. Nobody was injured but one of the geese lost more than a few tail feathers. On the last lap I made a move to get to the front going into the tricky BBQ section (3 tight turns in loose eucalyptus duff) but blew it on the last turn of the section and ended up in the back as all three zipped by me. I chased as hard as I could but and had closed onto the back of the group but lost contact as the guy in front of me bunny hopped the last log as I had to dismount to get over it. We were sprinting for 3rd and I ended up 6th...not good. Afterwards, I let the SLO-Nexus rider who had sat in the whole race know my displeasure in his race tactics. I believe I said something to the effect that if you sit in and sprint at the end, you don't make any friends. He didn't like my comments. Too bad.

O&S had a great time in the kids race. It was O's first race without training wheels. I didn't realize how much those thing slowed her down. Without them, she's a rocket - spinning out the tiny gear on her 12" bike. Both O&S gave a big thumbs up to the organizers for the best kids race prizes of the year: stuffed puppies.

I decided to punish myself for the poor outcome in my previous race and signed up for the Elite Men's race just to get a bit more time on the bike. I lined up at the back and when the whistle blew, I hung in the draft to the end of the starting straight. I narrowly avoided plowing into John Bailey who had hit the deck after washing out in the loose dirt of the first turn. Once through the turn, I watched the pack speed away as I went into tempo mode. I felt like the elderly cheetah from the nature shows - the one that just can't keep up with the antelope anymore and won't live to see another spring. The bacon bunch was still at the start of the finish straight so I figured if I couldn't race with the big dogs, at least I could entertain the crowd: grabbing a dollar bill from a PBR can (see the photo above) did the trick. On the next lap I was rewarded with a PBR hand-up. I couldn't down the entire beer just then so stopped, set it down and said, "Next lap." Sure enough, the remaining beer was handed up to me on the next circuit - I'm glad the USAC officials didn't see it as I'd likely be DQ'd for taking a feed. Not suprisingly, I finished last- a lap down on the winner John Behrens of Bailey Bikes - but it was fun and a good workout.

Next week...district championships.

Bakersfield squared

Still in yellow (but not for long) at Bakersfield. Photo courtesy of Jesus Ortega.

The head is starting to tilt - a sure sign Dave is suffering. Photo courtesy of Jesus Ortega.

I've got to admit that I wasn't really looking forward to the Bakersfield races. Before I started doing well in the series, I'd scheduled the weekend to get in some big miles on the road in an attempt to recharge my base fitness heading into the second half of the season. With the leaders jersey tenuously situated on my back, I felt compelled to chase series points...yes, even to the extent of being willing to spend the weekend in Bakersfield.

Saturday - SCPS #9A

One thing that you have to worry about when riding in the Central Valley is goat head thorns. In preparing for the race, I mulled my two options: Stan's in the tubulars or Slime strips in the clinchers. My rear Grifo had just received a dose of Stan's a couple of weeks prior so I decided to just pump 20 ml into the front and call it good. It was a decent plan but had an unforeseen flaw.

I got up before dawn on Saturday and loaded the car. With Dino and the girls away for the week, I was amazed on how much easier it was to pack. I drove up to the OC, picked up teammate Jeff, and got back onto I-5 northbound. We arrived at the venue in plenty of time for a leisurely warm-up including a few recon laps on the course. Hart Park is not my favorite course. It tends heavily towards the jungle cross side of the spectrum and I've become too much of a course snob to like that sort of riding. The course had grass, off-camber, lots of loose turns, asphalt, a steep run-up, a few feral cats, and tarantulas (yes, really). The balance and flow were fine. What I didn't like was the lack of passing room through much of the course. Something else I didn't like was the gazillion goat head thorns hiding in the course. After 2.5 recon laps, I pulled back onto the pavement and heard a clicking sound at the same frequency as my wheels rotating. Not good. I stopped and looked down: at least a half dozen thorns in the front tire. I looked back: another half dozen thorns in the rear tire. Really not good. I carried my bike back to the car, set it down, held my breath, and started picking out thorns, spinning the wheels between each pluck to distribute the sealant. Post-plucking, I added a bit of air, gave the wheels another spin for good measure, and crossed my fingers. Wow - they seemed to be holding! All hail Stan and his wonderful sealant! I hopped back on the bike and headed out onto the adjacent road to continue my warm-up. I rode a small loop adjacent to the course and was listening to the announcer over the PA to gauge when I should finish up: 3 laps to go, 2 laps, 1 lap...okay one more circuit for me then over to the start line. All of a sudden, my rear wheel went flatter than a roadkill 'possum after four days on the interstate. Crap, crap, crap! I walked the 1/4 mile back to the car so that I wouldn't ruin the rim. I gave the wheel some air and a couple of spins but it just wouldn't hold. So I walked over to the pit and switched in my pit wheel, rode to the start, lined up...and we were off.

I didn't try for a hole shot. Rather, I tried to conserve with the intention of letting the course sort things out. After a couple of laps, I found myself in about 5th position and feeling good enough to start moving up. I was just behind Josh Kepler and just in front of a string of riders going through the loose single track section. I kept running up on Josh in the turns so decided to try a pass. I got around him cleanly in a tight right hander but my front wheel slipped and my shoulder smacked into a tree adjacent to the course which threw me to the ground. I ended up underneath Josh and about 5-6 other riders. I think I was the last one to get up and going. Only slightly the worse for wear.... time to chase back on. I picked off a rider, then another. Then, approaching the run-up, I was tripoding through a loose left hand turn. As soon as I picked up my foot, my front wheel washed out and I hit the deck. As I'm laying there, I get passed by the riders I picked off while I was on the ground. Grrrrr! Okay, back to chasing. Catch the riders then set my sights on Mike Wilson. It takes me the whole bell lap but I catch him in the U-turn onto the pavement just 150 M from the finish. I crank up my best sprint and throw the bike at the line - I get him by about 12 inches. Josh Keppler and two more riders are just out of reach up the road. Damn. If it wasn't for the crashes....

Sunday - SCPS #9B:

Being only ~15 minutes from the course and not having to wrangle two pre-schoolers meant that I had a relatively leisurely morning. Once at the venue, we found the course was being run exactly backwards, just as advertised. I didn't particularly like it - certainly I didn't think it was as good of a course as the previous day. Lots of course recon and a bit of time warming up on the road brought me to the start line ready to go. Right off of the pavement was an extended section of single track where passing was nearly impossible - so I figured a hole shot was in order. I was second into the turn when some dude on a MTB who had shoved his way through the pack, power slid through the turn almost taking a few of us down (what an idiot!) I started of okay but could tell immediately that my legs weren't responding. I kept slipping further and further back in the field until I couldn't see anybody in front of me and I couldn't see anybody behind me. Mentally, I was done - so I put it into cruise mode. With three laps to go, I saw Paul Avila behind me. Frequent glances backwards indicated he was gaining steadily. I didn't know where I was in the field, but a place is a place so I decided to defend it. Not wanting it to come down to a sprint, I pick it up and seemed to be holding my gap. With about one and a half laps to go, I looked back and saw that Garnet Vertican, the leader of the 35+ 1/2/3 race, was coming up quickly. Even though being lapped would have let me be done for the day, something in my head said to try and stick it out. I went as hard as I could to try and keep ahead of Garnet. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough in the tank and he caught me just as we transitioned from the grass onto the pavement. It's not the sort of thing I'd usually do, but for some reason, I really was on a mission to not be lapped - I asked Garnet to let me go across the finish in front of him. He asked, "Are you sure?" and let me go (thanks,Garnet!) After crossing the finish line to start my last lap, I realized I'd made a good choice: with the surge to stay ahead of Paul and a second surge to try and keep ahead of Garnet, I could now see another rider not too far ahead - it was the MTB'er who'd almost crashed the entire field on the first turn. I suffered like a dog and closed the gap inch by inch. He still had the lead as we made the turn onto the downhill finish straight and he started sprinting - but I still was able to close the 50 m gap and then sprint away. Sometimes the best races are for the places at the back of the pack. Today it was for 11th place.

In retrospect, I'm glad I made the trip. I got a chance to road trip with a teammate, meet some new people at the mixer at the host hotel, and do a couple of hard races. The best part of the weekend was finding that I was able to keep my focus and have a good race on Saturday despite the last minute flat and two crashes. Last season, that would have taken my head completely out of the game.

For some photos from the Elite Men races Saturday and Sunday on our Flickr photostream.

Playing in the sand

Trying not to crash in the sand pit. Photo © Richard Murphy.

On my way to the beach. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Celo Pacific put on their annual Storm the Beach Cyclocross race last Sunday. As you can see in the photos above, it's really on the beach. Lots of work goes into promoting this race so a big tip of the hat to promoter, Mark Campaigne, and all of the Celo volunteers for making this the best Storm the Beach to date. That's not just rah-rah go-team-go talk. This really was our best race out of four editions. We had the most riders (210), the most spectators, the largest expo area, and the most positive feedback.

The morning was busy for me doing the volunteer thing. No need to go into the details here. I got to the venue early then Dino came a bit later with the girls (one of the benefits of having a home town race). The whole Celo crew was there - so with the extra kid-watchers, Dino and I even had the luxury of taking a course recon lap together (thanks Elaine!). Chief course designer Brent Prenzlow made a couple tweaks to the course but it was fairly similar to last year - though much faster. The fire roads were smoother, the tide was out so the beach section was rideable (and fast), and the sand pit was moved inland and reconfigured making it possible to transverse without running. I have to chime in here with my most important contribution to the race this year: the day after last year's race I pulled up the tide charts and identified possible dates for 2009 when we'd be guaranteed of running under low tide conditions (high tide last year made the beach section completely miserable).

The beauty of Storm the Beach course is that it has a sort of yin-yang balance. It starts with fast fire roads on the first half of the course followed by a series of relatively slow sections: a deep sand run, an energy sapping beach section, another deep sand run, a steep hill, the sand pit where you're kicking up rooster tails like a Mississippi tractor pull, another steep climb, then a short U-turn in the deep sand before heading back onto the fire roads. Yin and yang, darkness and light, pain and more pain.

Once Dino started her race, I hopped on the trainer putatively to watch O & S - but they were quite happy playing with all of the other Camp Celo kids and I was left (mostly) undisturbed. Little did I know that'd I'd have a ringside seat for the unfortunate incident that happened next: Leigh Adams, who was racing the Women 3/4 field, endo'd coming off of the hill into the sand pit. I did essentially the same crash last year but got up and kept racing. I guess I was lucky. Leigh wasn't so lucky and ended up getting taken to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder. As if that weren't bad enough, her boyfriend, Alex Ter-Vrugt, was crashed by another rider while leading the beginners clinic and bumped his elbow. While at the hospital with Leigh, he had it x-rayed and found out that it was broken. Two busted limbs in the same household is not a good thing. SoCalCowbells sends our best wishes to Alex and Leigh for a speedy recovery.

Time for my race...

Call up. Go to the line. No, don't want to be on the left...move to the middle. Official's spiel: "You will be racing on a course of varying terrain including dirt, sand..." Tune him out (sorry, Ramon). 30 seconds. 15 seconds. Whistle. Instinct and adrenaline say go for the hole shot. Cerebral cortex says sit in the draft and conserve. Cerebral cortex wins. Don't fight for position. Slip back to ~15th but enjoy being out of the wind. Keep below my LT. Make it to the beach. Watch a guy fall face first into the sand while running down hill with his bike on his shoulder. No time for schadenfreude - it's created a gap. Try to get across. Pull 5 guys behind me. Run up off the beach and ride up the hill. Thankful for the gap in front of me: no squirrely traffic as I hang on for dear life while fishtailing at high speed down the hill and into the sand pit. Make it through with only a quick dab in the apex of the turn. Up the hill, down the hill, U-turn in the sand then back onto the fire roads. Catch a couple of riders in front of me. Sit in shamelessly. Drop the riders when we hit the beach. Pass a couple more in the sand pit. Back to the fire roads as I begin lap three. Catch a rider. Work together. Get passed by Matt Breyer as he's chasing back after a flat. "Grab a wheel!" Hang on for dear life as we fly across the beach. Pass the guy who was leading my race and is now nursing a flat. Can't hang with Matt when we hit the sand so let him go. Up the finish hill: 2 to go. Catch Dave from PAA on the fire roads. Sit in. He pulls off when we hit the headwind just before the beach. I attack. He pulls me back. I keep on the gas down the beach and through the sand. Up the finish hill. Bell rings. One to go. My best guess at position puts us in 5th and 6th place. I need to beat Dave to get on the (extended) podium. I ask, "Work together?" Reply: "Yep." I add, "Until the beach - then all bets are off." We work together then, on cue, I attack on the beach. I have a gap. Push. I'm caught by a PAA rider...not Dave. It's the former leader (the one who flatted) and he's flying. Crap. Gotta go or I'll lose the position. Off the beach and into the deep sand before the barrier. He swings wide then screws up his dismount and goes down. Whew, some breathing room. Not enough - he catches me in the sand pit. Surprise: he dismounts near the apex of the turn making me dab. Crap. His running is faster than my riding (double crap!) but I gun it and catch him before the base of the finish hill. Come on, legs, sprint! Legs aren't listening. He rides away from me. Oh well, 6th isn't so bad - and he earned it, coming back from a flat. I see Dave (from PAA), "Good racing." "You too." "Where'd we end up?" I ask. "You were 4th and I was 6th" he says.

Wow. Fourth. I'm happy with that. And it was good enough to get the leader's jersey back too.

The real highlight of the day was watching the Elite Men race. Celo teammate Brent Prenzlow took his 100th elite cyclocross victory. I find it kind of hard to wrap my head around that figure. I've been racing 'cross since 1990 and I don't think I've even entered 100 races. Well maybe - but just barely. But 100 wins in the Elite class....wow. Good job Brent! The most remarkable thing about the race, however, was the vibe amongst the spectators. When everybody present realizes that they're watching a little bit of sporting history, something special happens that is difficult to put into words. The closest I can come to describing it is a sort of gestalt consciousness that ripples through the crowd in counterpoint to the action. I've only been to a few 'cross races where this has happened - Nationals at the Presidio in 1999 comes to mind. This was one of those times - and it was pretty cool.

Brent Prenzlow on his way to his 100th Elite cyclocross win.

The chase group in the Elite Men's field gets squidgy in the deep sand.

Next up: Bakersfield....actually I'm posting this after the Bakersfield races. I'll post a report soon. In the meantime, let's just say the weekend didn't go as well as I'd hoped.

Los Luchadores Borrachos

Los Luchadores Borrachos: El Chongo Peludo y El Chimichanga Fantastico.

After much training and preparation, we were ready. Los Luchadores Borrachos would make their world premier at El Carrera de Bicicletas Spooky Cross. Training provided us with great velocidad. We were there to make our competitors cry like seesy-gurls. We were there to destroy.

Lo que los músculos grandes (foto de Dino)

Los Luchadores Borrachos had many fans in attendance and posters were hung proclaiming nuestra grandeza.

Hemos tenido muchos admiradores (foto de Dino)

We were called to the start line and given a position of honor on the front row. It was time. Knowing that the battle would be fierce, El Chimichanga Magnifico disrobed - he anticipated mucho calor.

El Chimichango Fantastico prepara para la batalla

The race started and El Chongo Peludo rode many laps, distracting the crowd with his dazzling cape, and even doing battle with his arch-rival, El Puma Grande.

El Chongo Peludo pedales muy rápido!

Meanwhile, El Chimichanga Magnifico rained down destruction on muchas calabazas.

El Chimichanga Fantastico: 1, Calabazas: 0

The battle was fierce and large piece of pumpkin became lodged in Magnifico's chonies.

¡Ay, mi culo!

After many laps, El Chongo Peludo joined El Chimichanga Magnifico to finish off the petulant squash.

Calabazas destruir a Los Luchadores Borrachos.

The pumpkins were destroyed as the spectators cheered - for they knew the were now safe - the pumpkins could hurt them no more. Los Luchadores Borrachos had triumphed. And it was bueno.

Muchas gracias a Ben Love por los fotos extraordinarios.

Spooked Out

Churning through the sand pit. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Duking it out with Miguel. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Goodbye yellow leaders jersey. Photo © Richard Murphy.

Spooky Cross is probably the best bike race in Southern California. Period. Not just for cyclocross - THE BEST RACE. Spectator or participant, it is the most fun you can have that includes a bicycle speed contest. Let's see...where to start?

Saturday morning arrived and even though we have our pre-race routine down to a science, the evening start times threw a spanner in the works. When two preschoolers are in the equation, timing is everything. Luckily, we made it to the venue without too much added stress. Camp Celo was already set up with the exception of our pop-up tent (which we quickly popped-up, of course). We had a great location just after the spooky sand pit along with the Ortegas, the Campaignes, the Weirs, the Jones-Lewinneks, and the Fahies.

The schedule was a bit different than usual with the kids' (costume) race running prior to our races. Of course we wouldn't miss cheering - and photographing - O the butterfly fairy and S the Meerkat through their race. I think the below photo of O chasing down a rampaging hulk is one of my favorites from the series so far this year:

Who needs a bike when you're the Hulk? Photo by Joe Lawwill.

I managed to sneak in a recon lap between races and was impressed with what I saw. Hidden Valley is easily one of the best cyclocross venues in SoCal (or anywhere for that matter). The course had a little bit of everything: off-camber sections, pseudo-stairs, a sand pit, a run/ride hill, a fast pavement section, some long power straights, and a good measure of tight turns (but not too many). My only complaint is that the barriers were set up just after a turn - something several course promoters have done lately. I don't like it because it de-emphasizes the importance of having smooth barrier technique since you have to slow down so much to make the approach turn. Nevertheless, two thumbs way up for the course.

The race was a bit of a blur. The whistle blew and I was second into the first turn. I then started slipping back. And back. And back. And back some more. Uh oh...when is this going to stop? I felt good but the legs just weren't there. Three laps in, I was dangling ~10 seconds just behind a group of five riders and just couldn't make contact. Instead, I was joined from behind by two riders including Miguel from PAA. Knowing that we had three laps left, I didn't try too hard to keep Miguel behind me. I quickly learned that was a mistake: he punched it hard out of every turn leaving me to close the gap. I managed to keep up with him but it was definitely hurting. The third rider with us stayed behind us for the most part but did throw down a couple of attacks. The first was pulled back easily by Miguel and I. The second, however, with just over a lap to go was a bit stronger. We weren't closing it down and, in fact, Miguel had managed to gap me as well. Then something happened that changed the game. I was passed by Brian Lopes (ex-World Champion MTBer) who was leading the Masters 35+ 1/2/3's. Oh crap - that means that we're finishing at the end of this lap [for those non-cyclists reading this, all riders finish on the same lap as the leader - even if they are in different fields of the same race]. I pushed as hard as I could and caught Miguel just before the finish straight. We hit the pavement with 50 meters to go and I sprinted for all I was worth. A bike throw got me in front of Miguel by an inch or two netting me 17th (out of 48) for the day. I felt pretty good, I raced hard, but sometimes the results just don't come. To top it off, I lost the series leader's jersey to Josh K. We're now tied on points but his 10th place finish (compared to my 17th) tilts the tie-breaker his way and gives him the lead. He definitely earned it...and now I have a little extra motivation for Storm the Beach next weekend.

I'm still hopeful for my goal at nationals of finishing on the lead lap. Lopes barely lapped me even though he started ~2 minutes in front of our field. Plus, I had a slightly off day. It certainly won't be easy, however. Especially since, according to the preliminary start-ups recently published, it looks like even though I was the second Cat 3 to register, I'm in the 13th row. Maybe I can pull a Prenzlow and catch onto the lead group by the end of the first lap. Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?

Now some of you may be wondering about feature event of Spooky Cross: the costume race Well, for that you can read El Chongo Peuldo's race report elsewhere on this blog.

"Au revoir, gopher!"

We can all thank our little furry friends, Thomomys (otherwise known as the North American pocket gopher), for our trips to the chiropractor following El Dorado! I am pretty certain most people will agree that this course was one of the most bone jarring in recent memory. It certainly gives Hanson Dam a run for its money in terms of bumpiness. Bumps aside, the race itself was mediocre for me.

The one thing Dave and I really focused on during the off season were my starts or lack thereof. I can say with confidence that I have pretty much nailed them down and usually can get off the line pretty close to first. My ability to maintain that position---well, that's an entirely different story, one that frustrates me to no end! So, here we go.

The massive women's field lined up at the start looking down a long paved straight. I squeezed my way to the front with everyone else since there were for some reason, no call-ups. The start was messy again, elbows, f-bombs, and flies were dropping furiously as we all raced down the straight dodging the massive bumps caused by tree roots uplifting the pavement. We flew into the sweeping first turn before launching into a blanket of pine duff and into the first set of barriers. I was not "on" today. I got myself stuck in traffic and couldn't really break out. Oh well. It's racing and the best thing to do is keep racing. I managed to stay near the front group for awhile but was quickly dropped and was chasing AGAIN! I am not sure what's going on but once I lose contact from the lead group, I have a really tough time making up time. It's almost as if my legs turn off and I am spinning in the mud going nowhere. My racing buddy, Carlyn, and I have been asking ourselves frequently this season, "how come we start at the front but always end up in the back?" That being said, Carlyn and I traded places throughout the race and were chastised more than once by her husband for "chit-chatting" and "having a tea-party!" Admittedly, we could talk so we probably weren't working hard enough. As for the tea party, I didn't see any tea and crumpets (did you, Carlyn?). So, as fast as the race began, it ended. I have no excuses for my poor performance except to say, "it just wasn't my day!" Thankfully, Carlyn and I push each other and often encourage each other just at the right time. Better yet, even though we race in the same field, we aren't technically racing against each other for points since we're in different categories--so it's a rivalry based in friendly competition and an effort to get better. Carlyn went on to do another race that day; I went on to enjoy the crazy chaos of Camp Celo.

As we drove home, Dave and I dissected my race and tried to figure out what I need to do to make the leap from mediocre performances to "sizzling" performances. It sounds like the recipe involves more intervals and intensity...