First cross race of the new season last Sunday and one I'd been looking forward to for a while. I'd been riding the cross bike on the long off road commute all summer and enjoying the fast rolling "summer only" Kenda Small Block Eights. I'd say I was 100% certain these would have to come off for the first race of the season, especially as it's in October. How wrong I could be.
Setting off from a warm Brighton, I headed north for Herne Hill Velodrome, traveling through the surprisingly deserted streets of South London. The air conditioning in the car had lulled me into a false sense of security and it was only when I opened the car door once I arrived, that it hit. It really did feel like stepping into an oven and a double check of the temp gauge in the car said 28.5 degrees! Being affectionately known as 'Sweat Boy' to some of my friends, this didn't bode well. I can wear shorts and a tee in winter and still feel over dressed!
I hooked up with Phil from the KMP, his good lady Katie, Gareth from Singular and James (who kindly took the photos and helped me not die - more later). The usual chat and faff and we were on the startline. Already I was sweating and I hadn't even turned a pedal. This time I thought I'd get to the front and not leave myself such a hug amount of work like I do most cross races. Despite my best intentions though, the top 75 from the last couple of races were gridded, so it was by default I was near the back once again. Not to worry, the bike (the Italian made CSix) has been pinging all summer and I felt confident, if not a little hot.
First lap and Gareth come flying past, I try and hold his wheel but cant handle the pace. It takes me about 20 minutes to get used to the all out assault of racing so I settle in and slowly pick off people. By the end of the first lap my mouth is dryer than Ghandi's flipflop and with no bottle I wonder how long I'd be able to keep going. Passing James I wheeze out the words "Bottle..." and luckily he gets my drift. Due to the exceptionally hot weather the organisers have thankfully allowed hand-ups. Still I'll have to wait for another lap until I get some relief. I tried instead to focus back on the racing and had found myself slowly catching Phil and in with a bunch of two or three riders.
James's life saving hand-ups gave me some respite for a moment but it was always short lived. I could have drunk a gallon and still be thirsty that day. About 2/3rds of the way through I was starting to fade. Hot, vague and tired I missed a couple of hand-ups which added to the problem. I was loosing time on the flat grass sections but always gaining on the singletrack and dismounts, so the elastic nature of the close racing kept me going.
The bell rang out that the pain was almost over and I was within sniffing distance of Phil. Try as I might I just couldn't give it the extra beans to get close and a mistimed sprint at the end meant I actually lost a few place rather than gained. Still, despite the heat, the resulting vagueness in my mind, it was a welcome if not slightly unusual start to the cross season. I could have almost prayed for mud and rain. Chances are by the next one at the end of October I won't be running those Small Blocks . . .