First race of the year in the bag leaving me bagged

So there we have it. First race of the year done and despite losing some 20-25lbs over the winter months, I was brutally exposed when it came to my stamina. Which was to be expected given I haven't gotten the miles in I might normally have by now. And that's okay. I suffered for it, but I finished the course and it felt good to have gotten around. I know where I need to improve for the next race, which is pretty much everywhere that isn't downhill.

The race was at Mansfield Outdoor Centre about 90 minutes north of Toronto on Airport Road. Nice place and great for mountain biking. The kind winter and dry spring ensured for a very dry, dust and therefore fast course. Not too technical but plenty of sharp little biting climbs that force you (or it did for me) into the granny ring with the body hanging over the front of the bike to stop the front wheel lifting while compensating enough weight at the back to stop the wheel slipping. Oh the joy.

Saturday was practice and gave me a chance to see what lay ahead of me. I rode two laps in all with a back disc break that was rubbing quite badly but found a kind mechanic who fixed it up for me ahead of the race the next day. My only complain, was as ever, the fact the race would start at the foot of a steep climb. I understand why they do this, but for someone like me, it's painful to see!

On Sunday I decided to warm up hard and long. With that climb right from the start I wanted a heart-rate that was thumping out of my chest. I achieved that, and while it settled briefly on the start line, it roared up close to my limit within 50 yards of the start.

I was dismayed by that. I had planned to watch it closely and keep it under control allowing me to ride the entire race at a decent overall pace rather than blowing up. I didn't quite blow up, but I didn't maintain a decent overall pace. Try as I might my HR stayed high and made me suffer. It was somewhere on the second lap when my wheel slipped on one of them super-steep short little bits forcing me to unclip and push up over the top that I decided that despite my weight loss, I was in no good racing shape.

The only way to regulate the HR better and get it to take a longer time going from 130bpm to 190bmp was to get more miles in my legs and get fitter.

I guess this was as good a place as any to start I figured. For that reason I was still glad I attended and it kept me pushing on to complete the race. As I said, isn't the first race of the year partly for working out the kinks anyway?

I think I crawled home in 12th place of the 16 in my category and one place off last of those that finished, though crucially, not last!

Still, the entire thing wasn't without some pleasure. You see, in a circuit race it's only natural that what comes up, must come down. So for that hard hill at the start with it's layer of sand on the surface, there was a steep, fast, descent to the finish and I made the most with it.

Sensibly I told myself on the approach to ease off for the descent and allow the body to recover for the climb to start the next lap, but when the path began to point downward and I seen plenty of people looking on, common sense went out the window and I attacked that downhill each of my three laps. I'd be lying if I said I didn't put myself on the limit and didn't feel the wheels really biting for grip on a couple of the gravel/sand covered bends, but I held it together each time and if it didn't help my heart-rate go down, then it did increase my laps average speed by a tiny margin as well as decrease the time gap to whoever was in front of me.

Looking on Strava that evening when I uploaded my ride I may have been well down in almost every other segment listed, but on that descent I was fourth quickest for the day, two seconds back on the fastest bloke -- and I put that down to having to overtake someone each time down. Yes, descending was never my weakness!

I recovered quick enough, packed up and hit the road home. First race in the bag and a marker laid for improving upon. My so-called 'professionalism' kicked in on the drive when I celebrated getting to the finish of the race with a post-race meal of champions: battered fish and chips and a Coca-Cola. With that in the stomach I hit the road again looking forward to a post-race evening R&R with a bag of chocolate buttons, a bottle of beer, a movie and a crying baby!

Ride details below:

Also on Strava here