3 Toothed Cog: January 2011

I am proud to announce that I finally received a hit from a search on the keyword phrase of "FaceBook Can Suck It". Yep, that brought a HUGE smile to my face. In other news I went running. Not only did I go running, but I went running with a heart rate monitor *gasp*! Things that I determined. One, running still sucks and is boring. I'm sure if you are actually good at it, it could at times be fun. Two, if wearing a heart rate monitor chest strap is anything like wearing a bra, I deeply sympathize with the female population. Yes, I could wear the strap looser, but due to my un-heart rate monitor strappy thing compatible torso, I would end up trying to take my BPM at my belly button. I think I will work on developing a gut to hold the stupid thing up, or maybe use that magical glue the supermodels employ to keep their bathing suit bottoms in check. So what is all this cross training for? Well, looks like I am determined to do a sprint triathlon. Why in the world would I want to do that? Pretty much because it sounds like a really bad idea. Plus the trails and streets are so crappy, that I've had to find other activities outside, and figure might as well put them to good use. So here we go, it's all about performance.

This pic pretty much sums up the course of the Charlotte Short Track Series. Fast, muddy, and likes to put the hurt on riders. I went down to Charlotte, NC for the first in the series of the winter Short Track series. This is usually the first race of the season that I do. They have since developed a team format, awarding points to individuals and tallying them at the end of the series for a chance at some 500 dollars worth of stuff. Unfortunately Joel and I failed at putting together a team (IE I asked two people and then gave up.)

I rolled into the parking lot of Renaissance Park at about 9:30 with two bikes in the racks. Contestant number 1, recently assembled singlespeed with front suspension, and downhill chainguide used as a tensioner. As of that moment, the bike had zero hours on it, and I wasn't sure if the tensioner was up to the task, especially with the anticipated slop. Contestant number 2, dumpster bike. trusty, fixed gear rust bucket of stupidness. I was a little torn on which bike to ride. I liked the idea of being able to carry speed on the downhill, so I could get all steezy for the cameras at the jumps. The logic in this being, that even if I took DFL, I would look really freakin cool doing so. The merits of dumpster bike was that the stupid thing just goes, and there are not a lot of mechanics to get balled up on it. We watched beginner mens go off to see how dirty the riders would be coming out of the woods. Neither of us had pre ridden the course, so we didn't know what to expect. After the first lap, the groups looks amazingly clean, making my choice that much harder. During this whole recon of the course and riders, I was also starting to notice that most of the riders in Singlespeed class were looking pretty pro *yikes*. We headed back to Joel's house after registration to go pick up his bike and give myself an hour to figure out which bike would be more awesome (less terrible?).

Back at the course, we see that the hour of warmish weather has indeed produced the riding conditions that I had anticipated. The sport class was coming back through the spectator area covered in a lovely shade of brown. Sweet, now it won't matter that I don't have a super stylee race kit, proving that fixed gear riders are not the horse to back in a race. That's right, after seeing the carnage that the course was inflicting upon the riders and their machines (skipping drive trains, crazy chainsuck, dragging brakes, and mud smeared glasses), dumpster bike got the nod.

Since there were races pretty much going on non stop, we relinquished ourselves to riding in circles in an adjacent parking lot. It felt like a giant game of foot down, or musical chairs. If this had been part of the course I would have had the circle of death in the parking lot on lock. We lined up about 1:16 with the clydesdale class lined up behind us (hell yeah Joel!). For some reason, some crappy, super mellow song started playing over the PA system. This did not get us pumped. The announcer, noticing the racers starting to curl up into the fetal position to take a nap, proceeded to switch it up to something a little more up beat. 3...2...1 and we're off. 21 singlespeeders take off in mass through the parking lot, jockeying for a good position for the 3 foot wide bottle neck entrance into the woods.

I ended up mid pack into the woods and took my place on the train snaking through the muddy, slick trail. Traction was slightly better than none, and I was afraid I was going to over cook the berms, but too afraid to hold people up to slow down. In the woods the course it fast but narrow. There isn't really anywhere to pass until you pop back out on the fire road. This would later prove to smack me in the ass later (literally). Exiting out of the woods onto the fire road, there was finally room to pass. I picked up about 5 spots before completing the first lap. Out on the blacktop near the announcer's booth, I noticed Joel standing on the side of the course. Turns out his bike got tired and decided to take a nap after shedding it's chain tensioner. Joel was not pleased, since physically he was feeling pretty strong, and it ended up being a mechanical taking him out of the game. He vows to take his revenge next weekend, so you all better watch your back!

The next 4 laps were pretty much repeats of the first. Despite proper eyewear (read, NOT using shop safety glasses, but legit cycling eyewear) mud found its way into my eyes several times. I also had so much mud in my mouth that I consciously took the time to decide whether or not it actually tasted bad. Turns out it had a pretty neutral taste. During the laps I got several encouraging shouts or "Go fixie" or the question of "Are you really only running one brake?" Brakes didn't seem to make much difference in this race. For the last few laps I figured I had been running in about 4/5th place, not bad for a guy riding pretty much out of control. It was during lap 5 that my luck would change. We got balled up behind a slower singlespeeder in the woods and some of the gearies started to get pretty aggro. Someone behind me called out that they wanted a left pass after the bridge. I figured why not, at least they will be off my ass. Over the bridge we go, and I pull right to allow for the left pass. Then everything goes sideways.

Next thing I know I'm hit from behind, and end up with the rider behind be completely tangled up in my bike. I try to pull my bike free, but his front wheel is tragically tangled in my rear wheel like one of those brain teaser puzzles from Cracker Barrel. He shouts out "This ISN'T working" I reply with a mournful "I KNOW!" During our bicycle wrasslin match, I watch dejectedly as 4 riders pass us. Well crap, that kinda blows. The final laps are a suffer fest. I'm tired, my legs are getting spent so I can't sprint to make back my spots, the mud is chaffing EVERYTHING, and the PA just announced that there was no more chili!! Gahhhhhh!

When it's all said and done I finish 8th out 21. Not bad, but not really where I wanted to finish. Although, I have to say that for this being one of the first races of the season, there are A LOT of guys coming off the couch super fit! After laying on the ground for a while to the amusement of several photographers, I amble over to the refreshment area and discover that there is hot chocolate. To make things ever better, they have marshmallows. SCORE! We watch the expert riders go out for a bit and then I go to hose myself off before loading back into Chester. Overall the day ruled! Riding bikes in the mud at race pace and not throwing up was awesome. Not turning in a completely terrible placement racing a fixie, doubly so. This season has started out pretty swanky!