"People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck.
It's scary to think so much is out of one's control.
There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back.
With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win.
Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose." From Match Point 2005.
It is constantly amazing to me how a split second decision made in a race can ultimately change the course of events for all those who are directly or indirectly involved in that race. As I was running up the small run up in the Bedford race this weekend, I made a last minute decision to run down the hill instead of trying to clip in admist all of the chaos. This small decision turned out to be crucial since the young gentleman in front of me hit a small divot in the ground and flipped over the bars since he did not take the time to clip in. I would have surely gone down with him, and into the trees.
I am going through a strange time where I am really suffering and having a tough time on the cross course. It is not like last year where if I wanted to pick it up a notch I could and make up 5-6 spots. Now I feel like I am riding almost right near the max and I really can't even get going for a sprint at the end. I think I am going in the right direction. I remember a particular race in in high school when I ran the 2 mile. I felt good so I sprinted the last lap. Much to my surprise, my coach was totally pissed at me and told me that if I can put in a 65 second quarter for the last lap, I was totally slacking off during the race. At the time I thought that the dude was just a J-Hole but now I think I understand.
Cross is a pretty interesting sport. At times you can use different sections of the course to your advantage, at times it can be your worst nightmare.
This week, I would like to write a bit more of something that is fascinating to me...
Nosferatu
7 comments:
Yash-pal, do you think you are feeling worse because you are racing the 3/4s and are going harder for longer? I know I thought I was going to keel over yesterday at about 2 to go.
It is sooo strange how the mind plays tricks huh? I honestly can't remember one race last year where I just suffered like a pig like I have for the last four races of this year.
I can distinctly remember Sterling and Canton last year finishing the race and thinking I should have ridden much harder since I was not dying by the end of the race.
I never experienced the joys of cyclo-gas, cyclo-shivers, or cyclo-cough last year, which are the defining signs of racing hard. I think the extra fifteen minutes is definetly more mentally challenging, but it is so worth the $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
I am sure I suffered last year too, like Hogzilla, but I have completely forgotten about it, and all that is left are good memories...
I had a religious experience at the vending machine immediately after the race on Sunday. I was pumping it full of dollars to extract as much sweet Coke nectar as I could. Sweat was pouring down my face and washing the dust into my eyes and I believe I may have been using the wall to support myself a bit. I then went into the bathroom and held my head under cold running water for several minutes. I think that that post-race experience personally validated my efforts during the race.
And of course you forget about how much you suffer, would you ever have done a second bike race if you remembered how the first one felt?
mmmmm race gut
yummy
the suffereing of the lst two races is intensified from the heat and the accumulated dehydration of the two days.
sterling and canton were/are late in the season. the engine is primed a bit more and it is not running so hot.
you'll feel the smoothness and confidence you felt last year. only better.
xoxo
m
pvb is onto something.
I had a religious experience guzzling a coke literally 5 feet from the finish line after my 2nd race saturday. I shouted to sarah to "please f-ing get me a coke at the finish" at lap 2 to go and spent the next 2 laps dreaming about my coke. It was all that really kept me going. the legs were toast that point, and I was dfl. I was thirsty, hot, dirty, and a bunch of other not nice things.
and then i crossed the line and chugged a coke. and it was good.
I have a friend Adam who is perhaps the most talented bike racer I have ever seen. He was born with cleats, perfectly aligned, embedded into his feet.
He quits cycling for three years, and does not touch a bike. Out of nowhere, I hear that he is in town and decides to enter the pro race on someone else's bike, shoes, helmet and clothes. Without any fricking training, he hangs in for 7 of the 9 grueling laps.
While all this racing is going on, we have another incredibly talented rider Nikolai who rumor has it used to have a bronze worlds medal on the track. He is supposed to give Adam a coke at the top of the hill, but misses his feed because he is chatting up some bird. Adam never finishes the race and does not get the bliss of the post race black wonder.
The coke feed is splendid, though I never touch the stuff, liquid candy you know. I took a guiness feed once, that was also splendid. Maybe it was Ipswich stout.
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