My first bike race was 6 years ago at Northstar. I was a freshman in college looking for something different, and felt like since it seemed I could go reasonably fast with my friends, I might as well give it a shot. The University of Nevada Reno hosted its collegiate mountain bike race at Northstar and my buddy Peter Graf and I decided to give this racing thing a shot. Pete took home the win in his race while I came in third place, but we were both instantly hooked. I had caught the cycling addiction.
My next 5 years of racing were spent moving up the mountain bike ranks from a young skinny kid with a camelback to a full on fire breathing skin suit wearing, gram and calorie counting training number maniac Semi Pro. With mixed results. I was lucky enough to be "taken under the wing" very early by some of the areas finest racers such as Jeff Angermann (former Webcor Pro and multiple time National Champion) and Kyle Dixon (Former Jamis MTB Pro whose collegiate parlames include multiple top 3 finishes at National Championships against the likes of Tyler Hamilton and Todd Wells). One of the somewhat difficult things both Jeff and Kyle have taught me is cycling is an extremely hard sport, which takes a long time to get good at. I started racing as soon as I really started riding bikes for anything besides running errands. A relative young pup as compaired to most in both years on the bike and age. So, in many senses I was ahead of the game, but like most competitive natured humanoids- I am very impatient. Taking your ass whippings in competition sucks, but is a necessary evil in order to ever be the administer of pain we all dream of.
As my training hours increased trying to run through the National Series as a Semi Pro, so did my time on the road bike. Trying to put in 15-20 hour training weeks all on the mountain bike just doesn't work. Going out on road group rides, entering the occasional local road events and hillclimbs I instantly found descent results. I also noticed and was told by my peers that I was somehow better suited, if not designed for the road. I am, after all, a skinny climber white boy. Let's get one thing straight here, I have never been a wheelie popin' fearless Mark Weir type bike handler, so the term "roadie" is nothing new to me, but I love mountain bikes. So, for a few years I fought the "Call of the road", vowing to never ever become a sissy arrogant crappy bike handling roadie. Then my back started hurting. Every mountain bike race was testing my pain threshold in terms of how much my back and brain could take. Some days were great, while other days I felt like a small child. Results were either really good or really mediocre and it was getting to me.
It was Conrad and the rest of my CWC squad who showed me the fun, less stereotypical side of road racing. Last year while racing for the awesome Northstar Mountain Bike team I finally broke my vows and began to embrace the road, entering a few more events and having a great time and good results. The FUN in cycling which brought me to this sport in the first place was back.
So, this year racing with CWC I have focused a bit more on the road side of things, while still staying true to my love for mountain biking. The most challenging aspect of road racing for me has been the learning curve. Mountain bike racing is more like a individual time trial- no sitting in, no drafting, no team tactics and hold nothing back- either you are in the front or chasing someone. When the opportunity to get in front of a mountain bike race, its like a Lion smelling blood, there's no second thought. Mountain biking is all about ditching your competitors in the singletrack- out of sight out of reach.
In road racing, especially in the Cat 4's- there is LOTS of sitting in, in fact, the most important skill is patience. I have witnessed guys win all of the Cat 4 races I've been in this year do NOTHING the entire race. Actually, I've rarely seen the winner until the final km's. This leads to the conclusion the overall strongest racer does not always win the road race (at least in Cat 4's). Generally in the 4's the victor is the smartest little shit who lurks in the pack, covers no breaks, and saves everything to come around everyone in the end.
These new tactics are challenging to accept as a seasoned mountain bike racer. This is also quite different from racing our local training races- hammering out at Boca in the A group (P/1/2s or Masters bad-asses) where I don't make (or stay in) the winning break to the end if I'm not feeling 100% and aggressive. Having to hold all my fitness and training back until the final miles of these Cat 4 road races is like telling Tom Cruise he can't save the world in his next flick! Also, while my mountain biking technical skills do not rival Hans Rey by any means, I have found the Cat 4's to be damn near terrifying on descents and bumpy roads- read my Pescardero report. So, while my machismo side yells like William Wallace in Braveheart for me to take no prisoners, my wit tells me in order to get these last few points for a Cat 3 upgrade (where things will undoubtedly be more challenging) I'm going to have to suck up my pride, use a little patience, and save it for the end.
What about my back hurting? Have I stopped mountain bike racing? Hell no! In fact, mountain bike racing has been better than ever for me. Partially due to my roadie fitness, but also due to a top secret training non-traditional additive I will finally reveal in my next post.
I'm gonna go race my mtb tonight and try to win with some road tactics.... How tricky this cycling world is! Maybe part of this cycling addiction that grabbed me way back as a freshman in college is the fact none of us ever quite figure it out...