Stormin' the Beach

Storm the Beach Cyclocross Race Report

Tim Lewis 10-20-08

So I’ve got a problem. I like to race. Even when I don’t have a chance in Hell of being competitive, I like to get out and race. So, seeing as this is my weakness, I made a little trip down to Oceanside on Sunday.

My wife’s best friend was having a wedding shower in Fallbrook, and she was spending the night on Saturday at her house. That means I had the girls, Haley (4) and Olivia (20 months) for Saturday and Sunday. We arranged things so that Char (my wife) would meet me at the race. If she wasn’t feeling up to stay, I was just going to hit the road back home. I figured it was a good enough thing to take the girls out and let them see a real-life bike race. We got a couple bells so they could ring their little hearts out.

The girls and I watched a couple races after showing up about 10:45. Haley was ringing her bell and seemed to be having a good enough time. Olivia alternated between trying to run out on the course and sitting and filling her bell with rocks. By 11:30, the girls were getting hungry, so we were back to the car for our picnic. I think they ended up eating as much sand and dirt as food, but it seemed to fill them up. I guess chocolate milk will pretty much wash anything down. After lunch, Char showed up and we talked about whether or not I’d race. Why not? I’m here.

So I did the quick change routine and grabbed my bike out of the trunk. I had seen Frank earlier, and he had his mountain bike. That’s all I have, so I was glad to see that someone who has the choice was on the same page. I got registered and had about 30 minutes before my race. Frank recommended that I take a recon lap to check things out and warm up. Char wanted to go back to her car and get her camera. While she did that, I took off.

Doing the recon lap was a good call. It let me have a little idea as to what was coming. The fire road time stuff wasn’t too bad. There were enough bumps and ruts that I could see having a front suspension was probably a good thing. There was a fair amount of sand everywhere. We’re on the beach, what do you expect? The hardest part for me was the run through the loose sand, ride down the beach, and then back through the loose sand again to the hard-pack. The climbs always suck, but I’m fine with them. At least I know that when I’m climbing, there will be a downhill where the gravity god will pay me back. The sand running and riding is just like being stuck in molasses. You’re pushing, but not going anywhere.

I didn’t see the girls before I lined up to race. I left a water bottle by where I told them to stand. I was hoping they’d be able to give me a hand-up when I needed it.

We lined up on the fire road. They blew a whistle and we took off. I learned at ‘The Muck’ it was no good to start in the back, but I’m an idiot, so I was starting in the back again. The guy right ahead of me can’t clip in. I pass him in the five feet of the race. Sweet. I’m not last. I put my head down and start to get with it. The wheel ruts are where you have to run. They have a good hard-pack line on them, but anywhere off the wheel ruts gets sandy in a hurry. A couple times I pull out to pass people only to slow down and have to tuck back in. It’s like trying to pass someone on the road with a 30 mph headwind. What I didn’t expect was the amount of dirt in the air. I was breathing in a bunch of sand and crap. I could feel my teeth and tongue get coated with the fine powder. Yum. We’re racin’ now.

I felt I could hold my own on the fire roads, but the sand was a different story. I couldn’t run through it very well and I was probably even worse at pedaling on it. I have plenty of low gears on my mountain bike, but I try to use the bigger ones to get some speed up. You feel like that if you can just get a little speed that you’ll get up on the top of the sand and you won’t have so much resistance. I don’t know if that’s reality or just a nice dream. Once off sand I figured out that my pedals don’t really clear themselves all that well. I could make the climb without too much trouble. Then there was a quick decent into another sandy area where you had to run. I rode the brakes on the way down too much and didn’t make to too far into the sand. Off the bike, run, on the bike and back up the other side of the climb. At the top I can see Char and the girls. I can also see the water bottle. What’re the chances of me actually getting a drink? I’m not going to stop, so I just point. Char’s holding Olivia, so she’s not going to be moving all that fast. Never the less, she calmly grabs the bottle and gives it to me just as I get to her. Perfect! I get a quick drink, and didn’t have to stop. OK, I’m ready for another lap.

Down a hill and into sand…..I think I can ride this. So I pedal and grind through it. There’s a guy in front of me running through the sand, but I go right by him. Riding is definitely the way to go. Head down and get some people, now. I can see a bunch up the road. Like I said, the fire road section is where I felt the best. I can see the guys ahead of me getting closer and closer. By the end of it, I’ve passed some and I’m riding with some others. The sand kills me again. Whatever, I live through it. At the top of the last climb Frank tells me I’ve only got one more lap. Down the hill I go and into the sand again. This time, no brakes and I go a lot further. Off, Run, On, going uphill. At the top, Haley is holding the bottle this time. She’s not the steadiest at the hand-up, but it works. It’s pretty nice to have your little girl help you in a race, to be honest.

I ride the next sand-pit again and catch a guy coming out of it. A couple hundred yards ahead of him is another clump of riders. He isn’t really going fast enough to catch them, though. I yell at him to let me by and we’ll work together to catch the group. He pulled over and as I passed I told him that we’d trade pulls. He seemed up for it. We went at a pretty good clip and caught that group ahead of us. We traded pulls a couple times and that worked well. I got bottled up behind the group that we caught and just couldn’t get by. I decided to sit in and get just a little rest. It was either that or do something really aggressive to get by, and I wasn’t feeling all that aggressive. Sitting in here was where I got to see my minimum heart rate for the race, 174. Cross is a hell of a work-out, you gotta give it that.

Back onto the sand. Man, I suck at the sand thing. I don’t know what it was. I wasn’t feeling particularly powerful for one, but it also felt like I had a lot of drag. Whether it was my tires, my line, my whatever, I just wasn’t doing a good job. The group I gathered up easily on the fire road left me. I just couldn’t hang.

So on the last climb Frank yells some encouragement and tells me that there’s no one directly behind me. I still go into the sandpit without braking…just to see how far I can go. I felt OK on the last climb and relief as I crossed the finish. I turn around and see the family running over. Olivia is in the lead. She’s carrying the water bottle…which she’s just finished drinking. Oh well, there’s more in the car.

Spooky-Cross is in Irvine on Saturday afternoon/evening. I guess I’ll be there. The first part of beating an addiction is admitting there’s a problem.