Disappointment, Redemption, Cyclocross Celebration

 Author:  Dwaine Trummert

This blog post ends with the the grandest Cyclocross event on the Pacific Northwest calendar - but the month leading into that event was anything but grand.

A month ago, I competed at Fort Steilacoom Park. My on-the-bike performance was on par for me. My performance on the extended length run up could not have been more poor. Lap two was my worst.  I lost seven positions at the top of the run. My nearly DFL finish forced me to ask the question 'What went wrong?' I sat on the floor of my van and pondered my preparation.

This year's training plan for pedaling strength was solid. Yet, I forgot to add any running work into my schedule. For most of the year, I was able to hide my weakness when the run up was short or rideable. Fort Steilacoom Park showed my running legs for what they were. 

It wa snot my best day at the run up. I suffered. And still earned an 'F'.

In the moment, sulking on the van floor, I knew it was too late in the season to add much running fitness. I felt sad to have spent so much effort on a training plan that was flawed and did not, and would not, allow me to race at my full potential. Disappointment.

My teammate Jonas shows proper composure and pace on the run up.

Going into the next race, I pivoted my approach. There was little point in sticking to a flawed training plan. I introduced variety into my training. Instead of structured threshold intervals, I would participate in a Zwift indoor cycling race. Out were the 30/30 intervals. In were the even more painful run up intervals. The Fort Steilacoom Park run up broke me on race day. I returned to the park to complete my intervals on the very same soil. I did not believe I could become a runner in two weeks. I did intend, however, to overcome the mental challenge that the run up posed.

Two weeks ago we raced near Graham. Frontier Park is not well liked in the cross community. It is often cold. The layout is uninspiring, but it's the rocks that create the negative vibes.

Despite this poor reputation, most everyone I chatted with said this was the best Frontier Park course in memory. The soil had the perfect amount of moisture. The rocks were less prominent. It was warm enough to feel our fingers and toes.

My consistent attendance earned me a front row callup. I lined up next to Doug Graver. Without knowing it, two racers were intent on leading into the first corner and the subsequent single track sections. My jump off the line was perfect, and I pressed hard towards the first corner intent on the "hole shot". Doug knew the risk of being behind traffic in the single track and challenged me at corner one.

We squeaked safely through corner, one and I latched onto Doug's wheel entering corner two. We had a small gap into the tight single track and were able to choose our own lines.

I maintained this extraordinary effort for just the first 90 seconds of the race. When I dialed back down to a pace I could sustain for an hour, riders began to trickle past. 

Riding my own pace. Hitting my lines. Keeping my good luck leaf at hand.

The remainder of the race was uneventful. Eventually, I faded back to mid pack. I kept my head down. For most of every lap, I was racing against the clock and my own fitness. For fifteen seconds of every lap, I was racing against the run up.

The Frontier Park run up was short and steep. On every lap, I gave everything I had. My choice was not tactical. I needed to experience run up success. I was clearing out the emotional residue from my previous run up defeat.

I finished well enough in tenth of twenty-three. More importantly, I didn't roll over at the run up; and my lap times were a bit ahead of my expectations. Redemption.

My teammate Jonas had a good race and didn't even looked haggard in the process.

One week later, I raced at Woodland Park. MFG Cyclocross brought this party/race/event back after a one year hiatus, and it was highly billed. It was crazy how many fans and racers were in attendance. The single speed race had 120 starters. Other races included riders in costumes. There were even three tandem teams taking on the course.

This link to some photos of the day might help communicate the atmosphere: https://mfgcyclocross.bike/mfg-6-the-finale-at-woodland-park-photoset/

I enjoyed the festive scene until my race time rolled around - and, then, I got to business.

The Woodland Park dichotomy ensured I would experience both joy and anguish. I understood the need to burn the matches on the 'climbing up' half of the course. I relished the opportunity to rail the corners and rest on the 'descending down' half.

My expectations were not high as I lined up on the third of three rows for the men's 50+ cat 1/2 start.  I knew the start was already half way up the hard part of the course and recovery was near, so I chose to start burning matches from the whistle.

I found myself about sixth into the first corner and held that position till the second of the camel humps at the top of the course. I was out of the saddle and feeling humiliated as the second hump humbled me for the first of many laps. After letting a handful of riders slip by, I completed the lap in eleventh position and just seven seconds behind the leader.

Unfortunately, I could not sustain the effort and paid a large price. My second lap was one of my slowest. It was during the second lap that Greg Kauper found my wheel.

We rode the next two laps nose to tail. As we refined our knowledge of the course, we were also learning about each other.

Greg was getting out of the saddle more frequently. Every time I saw his saddle sway, he pulled ahead by a second or two. My mostly seated style seemed to favor the more technical corners. Instead of trying to match his power, I waited until the next set of twisties and was able to get those seconds back.

The nuances of the course were also coming into play. I was finding corners where I could roll without touching the brakes. I fell in love with the winding descent section near the food trucks where I could usually approach with speed, whip it side to side between the tapes, and make up a second or two on my rival. Through the 'most dangerous' corner, I found some grippy soil way inside and rode it motocross style with my inside foot unclipped and the rear tire stepped out. I carried crazy speed into the run up and, usually, coasted up and over the first log; but I could not time my dismount well. Hodala corner, with the huge fan presence, was a favorite. I preferred the outside line and usually responded to the roar of the fans by carrying as much speed as possible around the outside.

After four laps and 28 minutes of racing we crossed the half way point of the race. We had been locked together for over two laps. There were no riders close ahead or behind. It looked a lot like this battle was going all the way to the finish.

After four laps, we had found our roles. Almost every lap, we followed a script. Greg led over the start/finish line. I stuck to his wheel looking for the tiniest protection from the wind. At the first camel hump, I pulled out of his draft and started my climbing effort early only to sag back into line as we approached the top. At the second camel hump, he popped out of the saddle and powered away from me. I railed the winding 'S' corners finding recovery and earning back my lost seconds. We would remain nose to tail until the short climb after the tennis courts where I would slingshot past into the single track. His dismount at the bottom of the run up was superior every lap, and it was 50/50 who would would remount first. As we approached the twisties at Hodala corner, he would open a gap. I carried more momentum around the Hodala soap feature and was back on his wheel to finish the lap.

Lap Six was tough. This photo was taken just after Greg pulled ahead by five seconds.

On lap five, I was at my limit at the top of the run up. Greg sensed my weakness and kept his foot on the throttle. At the end of the lap, he had opened a gap of five seconds. This was the largest gap between us the race had seen.

Lap six started hard. I didn't want to hurt anymore, but I had invested too much to give in. I stayed the course. Every corner was open, and I hit my lines and carried maximum speed. At the top of the run up, as we neared the end of the lap; I measured a smaller gap. I carried my momentum around Hodala and found myself right back on Greg's wheel. It took an entire lap, but I had closed the gap.

Starting lap seven, we heard '2 to go'. We stayed on script - until we didn't.

Half way through the last lap (#8), I was thinking towards the finish; and I liked my situation. At the top of the run up, we were still close. Greg had been stronger leaving the run up, and I let him lead me into the Hodala twisties. 

Finishing the run up with no clear leader.

The twisties were a series of four corners included the soap feature. The grass was grippy. I let Greg have a small gap going into the twisties. Like previous laps, I wanted full view of the corners and freedom to pick my line. Just as I had practiced all race, I exited the third twist with just a skosh more speed. I carried that speed the long way around the soap feature and passed Greg on the outside. With just two corners to go, the battle was mine to lose!

At the second to last corner, I became all ass and elbows in an attempt to fill the racing line and make a pass as challenging as possible.

At the final corner, I took an inside line that allowed me to get on the power first. If Greg wanted to pass, I forced him to go the long way around. The final paved sprint to the line was uphill, and I started a bike length ahead - but Greg didn't roll over. He had the legs to power past me and win the battle. After 56 minutes of racing, Greg secured eleventh by two tenths of a second.

From my saddle, Woodland Park was a spectacular race. The course was fun and fast and fantastic. My battle with Greg was the most competitive in memory and having a large turnout of fans was the icing on the cake. Celebration.

I need to give a shout out to my Fell Swoop friends. Kudos to Z-Dog for pushing us all to get off the couch and race or spectate. I also appreciate the time Jonas took to write the great course description. Finally, a big thanks to all the other Swoopers that were course side heckling and yelling and encouraging us to keep spinning the pedals.

Much appreciation also needs to go out to my wife, Deanne, for supporting me in person at Woodland Park. She cheered me up the run up. She carried my wheels to the pits. She handed me a burrito after the race. She supported me all season. Thank you.