I was roused early with the sun glimmering through the curtains waking me up at 7am, this was pretty much perfect leaving me with plenty of time to pack the car, have breakfast (why can't I ever get up this easy for work? ) and generally be calm before the storm. The drive down to Codham Park was far less ridiculous after getting completely lost on Wednesday, needless to say this time the Sat Nav didn't see the light of day. (See previous Mud Sweat and Gears post related to this event) Upon arrival I had plenty of time to do the registration thing and have a few little blasts round the last part of the course before getting called to the start line at 9:50am, Sitting on the start line was a crowded affair with the Males and Vet Males all starting out at the same time rather than staggered like at my first race, sitting on that line seemed to go on for ages and the nerves really started to ramp up as the anticipation built to a climax. Go! Off the line I used the tactic which had served me well in my first race, just pick off as many people as possible before shooting into more technical sections without shagging yourself up, (not really sure that's much of a tactic actually) I didn't feel that great after the first climb but this feeling was swiftly replaced with rage as a guy tried to ram past me without warning on a corner and clattered into me, my rage was compounded more when he repeated his reckless manoeuvre and passed me on a corner. Now I have only competed in one race before this but at no time in that race did anyone do this to me. Etiquette at my first race dictated that you tell someone if youre about to pass them on their left or right, not just come barging through on the inside elbows out. The temptation to yell some abuse was quickly overcome as I realised the guy was not gonna keep up his mental, elbow flailing, sporadic braking pace for long, soon enough I passed him and did not suffer the unpleasantness of seeing him again. I enjoyed a moment of brief satisfaction....eat my dust. Lap 2 seemed easier and I was feeling better, my lungs were open wide and I felt like I had plenty in the tank, spent the lap mostly alone picking off a few riders along the way, towards the end of the lap at the top of the biggest climb I had a good view of the last bit of the course and counted 3 people in front of me, could I be in forth? this spurred me onto a head down arse up pedal mashing spin through the start finish area where the head wind was like being hit in the face with a battering ram. On to lap 3 and I was aware that a rider was creeping up on me, as the lap went on my legs started to feel next to useless and I wasn't sure if I could hold this guy off, it seemed as if at every turn he'd edged closer and whatever I did didn't seem to put any distance on him. Through the wooded section and onto the open final climb and he was closer again, as much as my legs wanted me to ease up I was pretty sure I was a forth and did not want to lose out on the last lap., At some point I stopped paying attention to how close he was getting and just focused on mashing the big chain ring round the lake and onto the home straight, as I came through to the gravel start finish section I really went for it, and then to my horror a front wheel crept into my periferal vision. He had matched my effort all the way round and now as a chaser had the incentive to go for it, it couldn't happen, I wouldn't let it and out of nowhere an unintentional and slightly embarrassing Chewbacca type roar came out of my mouth and for some reason this gave me an extra bit of speed, had I edged him to the line? he'd pushed me hard and I felt sick but was sure I had nabbed it. I turned round to ride back down to the start finish area to find the guy looking as bad as me, "was that you?" I asked, "yes" came the reply. After chatting as best we could through the heavy breathing it turned out his name was Matt and that he had raced some other races around Essex, after congratulating each other on a good race I went over to check the results, I'm pretty sure he regretted pushing for the place as much as I regretted fighting him off for a good 5 minutes after. The results weren't scrolling up like they had at the previous race so I couldn't find out where I'd placed. I decided to head to the car and get a hoody and some sustenance then go back to find out later. As it turned out I'd came in forth one place better than my first race but still a bit off the pace off the top three. Now the questions are forming, how can I close the gap? Training more is something I have been slack on so that is the first point of call but ultimately my Trek Fuel ex7 isn't exactly a cross country whippet, after just two races I've already found my self unconsciously browsing light weight cross country bikes on the net. In 2000 Lance Armstrong released a book called It's Not About the Bike. It was more a philosphical title considering what he went through rather than a statement, but to push onto a podium position I'm affraid it might be a little bit about the bike.
So much for not taking it too seriously!
Thanks to Matt if your'e reading this, for giving me a real run for my money and pushing me till the end, also a massive thanks to Alistair and everyone else involved in Mud Sweat and Gears for putting on such a well organised friendly event, I can't recommend it enough.
Can't wait for tomorrow to have an in depth browse through the results and times here :
http://www.mudsweatgears.co.uk/
And to check the photos!
