As much of the Boston cycling community knows, I had 4 bikes stolen from a shed in my back yard in early August, two of which were mine: my much-loved (and upgraded) commuter and my mountain bike. Through hard-headedness, some work, and a bit of luck I managed to get them both back, and want to share advice for others trying to get their bikes back.
First and foremost: document everything for all the bikes you own! Record serial numbers, know what parts are on your bike, and if it’s not stock or was bought off craigslist or something get an estimate of replacement cost from your shop, which can serve as proof of ownership and proof of cost. I was lucky in that though I didn’t have any of the serial numbers for the stolen bikes when they were taken, I was able to acquire them all within 24 hours, from receipts and other records. The folks at Landry’s were also super helpful and printed out all the receipts they had in their system for my purchases from them (I had a saddlebag and lights stolen as well), provided me with service reports that could count as proof of ownership, and did a replacement estimate of my commuter (20yo frame with 2012 105 components and very nice wheels) for insurance. I had also registered the commuter with MIT, and they were able to send me a letter for the insurance company saying that I’d registered with them two years ago.
The next important thing is to call the police. Call the station, don’t call 911; unless the thief is still there and you need him to be caught, this isn’t an emergency, even though it may feel like the end of the world. Most insurance companies will require a police report, and if you have a case number you can get help from the police later (more on this to come).
Next, the thing I didn’t do that meant I didn’t get my commuter back for 3 weeks: poster your neighborhood, knock on doors, ask people if they know anything or saw anything. I don’t know who took the bikes, don’t know if they had been watching me for a while (I used the shed for storage for about 2 months, and washed my nice carbon race bike in the driveway more than once), but my mountain bike was sold to someone in a MacDonald’s parking lot on Soldier’s Field Road (not far from where I live) for $200, and my commuter was dumped a block and a half from my home (probably because they decided they couldn’t sell it because it had no pedals on it). If I’d gone around the neighborhood I probably would have spotted the bike, or at least gotten someone to tell me about it sooner.
The thing that I spent the next two days doing: let everyone know that your bikes were stolen. Especially if they’re unique. I’ve never seen a match for either of my stolen bikes around Boston, so I told everyone I knew who knows bikes that if they saw a red Lemond Tourmalet with a particular paint job in the city, it was almost certainly mine. I printed posters with color pictures and descriptions of what was on each bike and distributed them to nearly every bike shop in the area, both by email and in person. I pretty much tried to get everyone in the greater Boston cycling community to help search for my bikes. It turned out to not be necessary, but it made me feel better that there were shops where, if my bike came in, they wouldn’t let it leave without letting me know.
The thing I did almost immediately after making posters: set up alerts on Craigslist. I didn’t want to post that I was looking for stolen bikes, in case I scared the thief away, but I did want to see if they came up for sale. You can check various boxes to include nearby areas; I did that in both Boston and New York and the search areas were large enough that they overlapped! I included New York because I was told by multiple people that bikes stolen in Boston can end up being sold there. Of course, I was lucky in that I was looking for a Lemond, a Superfly, and an orange bike (which I didn’t own, but had rented from MITOC and was thus responsible for), which are very uncommon on Craigslist so I didn’t get more than a few emails a day even though I was looking over a very large search area.
The thing that I almost didn’t do: call the cops if you think you’ve found your bike and it’s in someone else’s possession. If you see someone riding it, call 911, if you find it locked up or on Craigslist or something, call the station. 36 hours after my bikes were stolen, a 2014 Trek Superfly 7 popped up on Craigslist for 700, cash only, with “clip pedals on the bike,” and using the stock catalogue photo. I was pretty much certain that it was mine and first called a friend who has a car and plays rugby. Luckily that friend was busy, and at my flatmate’s urging called the cops instead. They had me set up a meeting with the guy (with my not-suspicious email address) and went to get the bike themselves. The seller was in Chelsea, so my case officer in Boston called up the Chelsea PD who did the sting, and then, after matching the serial number, took my bike from the guy who was selling it. They were only able to take it back because I had the serial number, which was proof that I had owned the bike. I’ll say it again: if I hadn’t had the serial number as proof of ownership, they would have had to let the guy keep the bike even though we were all certain that it was my stolen bike.
I’ll finish with the thing that brought my commuter back to me 3 weeks after it was stolen: register your bikes as stolen on the various internet databases. Rejjee is a startup that has just partnered with the Boston PD and will register all sorts of things, not just bikes, and allows you to ask that a police officer come to your house at the same time you report things stolen. My bike was returned to me via bikeindex.org, after the people in whose driveway the bike was dumped, perfectly intact (with the hundred dollars of lights and everything else still on it), found the serial number on it and used that to find a phone number for me. Imagine my surprise and disbelief when I learned that it had been sitting a block and a half away all along!
The family is all back together! Why yes, I did buy a cross bike while being upset that I’d had two bikes stolen. You say I have too many bikes? Never!
I honestly can still hardly believe it that I’ve got both my bikes back. I’m incredibly lucky that I managed to get them both back, especially since they would have needed to be replaced immediately. The mountain bike is my race bike, and the collegiate mountain season started with last weekend’s opening race hosted by Northeastern, and the commuter is my transport workhorse, the only bike I own that I’m willing to lock up outside, the one with a rack that can carry enough groceries for more than a week, the one that I’ve had for years and have put a lot of work into maintaining and upgrading.
I have always loved riding bicycles. When people ask me how I got started I always tell the same story. As a young kid, my mom would put me in a bicycle seat and go riding in the evening. When she felt my helmet hitting her back she knew that I was asleep and that she could go home and put me to bed. I have no way to test if this is the reason why I love it so much, but I like to think it is part of it!
As a grown-up, my reasons to ride are different. Of course, there are all the usual reasons (extremely efficient way of transportation, eco-friendly, cheap*, etc.), but this is also how I develop my personality. To ride long distances you need to train, to overcome obstacles, to adapt to various situations. It is a great way to become more perseverant, grounded and organized. Combine that with the health benefits of cardio-vascular activities and you can become a better person on all aspects!
Before joining the MIT Cycling Team I did a few cycling events (off-road triathlon with kayaking, mountain biking and trail running, Eastern Sierra Double Century, a few centuries) but I was always competing against myself, not directly against a pack. I didn’t think that I was fast enough, or talented enough, to do true races.
Last September I decided that I would start following the road training plan in November to get in a better shape before a long touring trip this summer. I was thinking about racing once or twice, just to see how it was. Then Beth convinced me to try a mountain bike race… and I was hooked after the first weekend. Don’t get me wrong, it was painful (my heart wanted to escape my chest, I felt disoriented, my glasses were all fogged up…), but I knew I would try again and again. I raced three weekends, and I got so much better in such a short period! Being passed really helps bike faster.
Figure 1 Cross-country MTB Race
In November I started the road training plan. This was the first time that I was doing structured training and I made a point of following the plan as closely as possible. Initially, the hardest part was to stay in Zone 2. Completing a 2h training ride without heavy sweat was new to me. My training volume was higher than in the past, but my legs didn’t feel heavy like before; the plan had some benefits! The threshold intervals were really intense; I had no idea that I could keep such a high heart rate for up to 50 minutes.
The real test was to race. Before my first road race I was anxious (Will I get injured in a crash? Will I bonk after 5 minutes? Strategy?). Then the same thing as for mountain bike racing happened: I loved it! It is so intense, you need 100% of your body and 100% of your mind. You get in a zone where you have a strange mix of tunnel vision and complete awareness of your surroundings. Looking at the shadow of a fellow racer to know when to start your sprint is an awesome feeling. None of that would have been possible without the training plan and all the great advice I received from team members.
Figure 2 Sprinting for the prime points at the Tufts Crit
Only 9 months after I started collegiate racing I’m forced to retire, as I’m getting my Master’s degree in a few weeks. Joining the MIT Cycling Team was a great idea; I learned a lot about bicycles, about racing, and I met wonderful people.
Fast on the heels of the road season, the first race of the joint ECCC/ACCC track season took place last week at the Valley Preferred Cycling Center in Allentown, PA. The event kicked off with an intermediate level track clinic on Saturday with Marty Nothstein, a former Olympic gold medalist and the executive director of the Valley Preferred Cycling Center. While the initial parts of the clinic dealt with talking about the various track rules and etiquette, we soon got an opportunity to practice some of the track-specific race skills such as pace lining, standing starts, wall starts as well getting comfortable with the bankings in the track. Having previously raced only on the comparatively flat Kissena track, I personally found the 28 degree banked turns to be a lot more technical and equivalently, a lot fun.
Probably due to the close proximity to the Road Nats, the race had a reasonably small attendance, with a grand total of 22 racers across all categories, collegiate and non-collegiate, women and men. MIT was represented by two Men’s C/D racers, Christian and Rajesh, making it the third largest collegiate group at the competition, after Westpoint and Yale.
Thanks to the dearth of racers in the Men’s B/C category – Christian was the only one present on the day- Men’s B/C and D categories were clubbed together and the races modified to adjust for the small number of racers. A 5-lap scratch race around the 333m track was followed by kilo (the track version of ITT over 1km) and a chariot race (a short 500m race, from a standing start).
Even though Christian missed out on winning the scratch race by a fraction of a second, he won the overall competition in the B/C/D category, after setting the fastest time in the kilo and finishing first in the chariot race. I finished 3rd in all the three races, and managed to secure the final podium position for MIT. After the main ECCC races were over, the 22 racers were grouped together into 4 teams for a fun Italian team pursuit.
We rounded off the hot sunny weekend with some delicious burritos for lunch at a nearby California themed Mexican restaurant, before starting on the dreadful 7-hour journey back home.
I’ve been using an extreme version of the “Joe Near Training Plan” this year. The normal version calls for 3-4 hours of riding per week at the highest intensity you can manage (i.e. zones 3 or 4) in an attempt to keep your fitness through the winter while spending as little time on the trainer as possible.
This year, I managed 1-2 hours per week.
At Beanpot, I got dropped hard in both the road race and the crit. At Army, I held on in the crit but failed to score points; in the road race, I got dropped again. So my expectations for this week were low.
But my legs must be coming around, because I scored points in every race (that I finished) this weekend. In the ITT, I averaged over 300 watts and got 15th. That’s pretty great for me — even at my best fitness, my threshold is barely 300 watts.
The Dartmouth crit was very difficult for me, both physically and mentally, because of the rain — I’ve always been bad at cornering hard in the rain, and it was hard to force myself while the water and grit being sprayed in my face made it hard to see anything. The faster guys knew it would be hard in the back and went pretty hard in the beginning.
But I stuck with it and as the rain stopped, things got easier. I still couldn’t see anything in the final lap, and the two guys who had lapped the field started pushing people around in an effort to beat each other in the final sprint, so my primary goal was to avoid crashing rather than place as well as possible. I was therefore very proud to get 10th.
The TTT is typically very tough at UNH because I have to do it with Zack Ulissi and it’s hilly. I was very fortunate that he took it easy on me this time. It was extra fun because we started last, behind the only two other Men’s A teams. This meant that once we caught the other teams, we knew we were leading in terms of time. I think this encouraged Zack to go easy on the hills, because he was certain we could win. I appreciated that.
But there was no camera for the finish of the TTT. This was a bummer. I wanted to be in one last finish-line photo before I graduate, and the TTT is typically the only place I get to do it! I was going to make such a great face.
In the road race, I felt much better than I expected. Unfortunately the roads were terrible. I have raced this course in the past and remember them being pretty reasonable, so this winter must have really been tough on the road conditions.
Anyway, I flatted around mile 15 and fortunately the leak was slow enough that I was able to ride it back to the parking lot. Some of the downhills were a little bit scary on a tire with 20 psi, though. I was sad to have flatted but it’s tough to complain: I have pretty good luck with flats, generally, and I didn’t end up having to walk home.
I had a great time this weekend, and while I’m sad that I won’t get to do another ECCC race, I’m happy to see that the team is as strong as ever. I’ve been around long enough to see several “generations” of riders, and it’s great to see that the welcoming attitude and cohesiveness of the team has remained.
Some of our newer riders — the women, especially — are getting great results and obviously learning a ton about bike racing every single weekend. Many of the newer riders already act like veterans: I sometimes forget that they have never raced bikes before this year.
Veterans on the team have historically sprung for expensive equipment. My bike is the oldest (and probably the least valuable) in most of the races I enter. So during a discussion about bikes on Saturday, I said, “I have the cheapest bike you can buy!” It was quickly pointed out to me that my bike had fancier stuff on it than many of the bikes sitting around it. Many of the newer team members are so good that I just forgot they hadn’t yet been bitten by the upgrade bug!
So I’d say good luck to everyone, but I don’t think you’ll need it. Being a part of the team has been an honor and a privilege, and I’m both happy to see that future members will have access to the same
great experience I had, and excited to see that the new generation of riders seems poised to continue achieving great results.
Jens Voigt is my favorite pro bike racer. He’s famous for his “shut up legs” attitude — he always gives 110% in every race. His style is to attack again and again until he makes the break, even if that means riding 6 hours alone with little chance of winning. It doesn’t work very often, but it’s very entertaining.
I love Jens because he and I seem to love bike racing in the same way. For Jens, it’s not about money, fame, or even winning. As Jens put it, “You have to have passion inside of you. Passion in me feels like a high, full burning flame—it’s not a tiny spark in the dark. It’s still burning and I still love it.”
I’m the same way — I don’t really like training, I don’t care about fancy bikes, and I don’t even really care about winning. I just love bike racing. I enjoy the competitive nature of it, and I love the community that surrounds it, but mostly I just enjoy being in the bike race. Most of the time, I’m pack fill — and that’s fine.
No other pro talks this way. It’s always about getting better and winning big races. I identify with Jens because he and I share a passion for the racing itself.
Last month, Landry’s hosted an “evening with Jens.” Richard Fries (famous in his own right) led the discussion, asking Jens questions about why his career has lasted so long compared to other pros, how he came back after a number of gruesome crashes, and why he’s made himself so accessible to the press and to his fans.
I was impressed by Jens’s ability as a speaker. He was just like on TV — he answered all the questions with sincerity and a little bit of humor. He told a great story about turning his antenna toward the west during his childhood in East Germany so that he could watch western TV. When an audience member gave him a hard time about the doping scandals so prevalent in the past, Jens gave a pretty reasonable answer: he admitted that the previous generation had made mistakes and asked the fans to give the new generation a chance.
The event was almost canceled because it was scheduled during a blizzard. The T wasn’t running, the temperature was barely above zero, and the winds were gusting to 40mph. So of course I rode my bike there. I don’t think I have ever been so close to being blown off the BU bridge. I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit like Jens during that ride. I recorded it for Strava to prove I had ridden.
At the end of the discussion, I stood in line to take a picture with Jens and get his autograph. I plan to frame it and give it a place of honor in my “trophy case” (which unfortunately is not as full as Jens’s!).
Nine full cycling days in Solvang, California made for THE venue for a great team training camp experience. The weather was exceptionally warm, mostly the 60s to 70s. As you can see, we were also fortunate it was beautifully green due to recent rains in the area, more so than the previous year’s camps further south and closer to San Diego. What a great escape it was from the record snowfall and cold back in Cambridge.
We had a great attendance with about 24 team members in the main house and another dozen alumni riders in a second house. Each morning we fixed ourselves a good breakfast and gathered at the main house to depart for the day’s cycling adventure about mid morning.
This was our first day out intended to be an easy “stretch you legs” day after a long day of travel, but the pace got alittle higher than that on the way out (what did you expect from a pack of overachievers?) Mostly rollers on this route, though each day we needed to head out from the main house to Solvang, a picturesque 9 mile route that included about a mile 6% climb on the way back.
First thing back each day FOOD was generally on everyone’s mind, and it tended to be every man and woman for themselves. This was rather necessary as these are drop training rides and we were not all returning at the same time, nor necessarily doing the same rides.
Dinner, on the other hand was carefully planned by Jenn in advance to be not only great fare but a true team event in it’s preparation. Everyone was assigned responsibilities that varied from night to night – you might be the helper, the clean up crew or the head chef. I think we all had a turn at each. The diversity of the cuisine prepared reflected the diversity of the group. I think we all came away with an appreciation of the challenges involved in cooking for a large group.
Following dinner the evening organized activities always concluded with the team meeting. These were just fun – at times very educational, at others very entertaining, and at times somewhat competitive. No dull moments.
Day 2 – Figueroa Mtn or Tour of California ITT Course and wineries
Today you had the choice of two great routes. Half the group climbed the epic Mt. Figueroa (this was a bonus climb as we did it again later in week) and the other half rode the Solvang ITT loop used several times in the Tour of California (15 miles) followed by a second longer loop through wine country.
A few stopped and checked out the grapes afterwards – worth the stop I am told.
Rest day meant something different to everyone. Rest was more about selecting a lighter self-directed ride. There is some interesting mountain biking in the area. Just a few miles from Solvang you can climb up a dirt road to the crest of the Santa Barbara coastal mountains and then ride the mountain tops to the highest peaks in the area, as demonstrated by the high density of communications towers shown below.
This was our longest day so far, over 90 miles from the main house south of Solvang west to Jalama Beach on the Pacific. Some fun climbing on the way out crossing over the coastal mountains and then descending to sea level and the beach. Great burgers on the beach awaited all!
Day 6 – Rest Day
This time most of us really scaled back on the riding to take a true rest. Good day to check out the very authentic Danish town of Solvang. Not a bad place to live – save your money, though – new starter homes begin around three quarters of a mil…..
Lots of variety this day, each was left to chose his own cycling. There were those who practiced the TTT, others who rested and some who chose mountain biking. The selection rather depended on how much climbing and mileage one was looking for at this point in the camp.
Day 9 – The longest day plus the epic Gibralter Road Climb
This route took us from Solvang to Santa Barbara and back. We did all the epic climbs in the Santa Ynez valley so it was decided we would end the camp with this serious climbers route.
When we got to the top of Gibralter Road looking out over the Pacific we were treated with a too cool drone session and group video sponsored by one of the alums. A great demonstration of how far the technology has come at a reasonable price point of $1500.
We wrapped up the day with a stop at the Cold Springs Tavern which had been highly recommended. Serious roast beef sandwiches. A very eclectic clientele. Beautiful setting. Obviously very popular with the locals. Worth checking out.
An epic week of cycling. While everyone was free to chose their own level of riding, several of us exceeded 550 miles and 40,000′ of climbing over the 9 days. Try to get that in Cambridge!
The miles, the warmth, the food and fellowship are rewards on top of the long term health benefits gained when you choose to make a commitment toward a balanced life style through cycling. Sign up for the next episode IAP 2016.
Almost exactly a year ago, I watched CX Nats in Boulder, sitting on my trainer. I cheered on MIT’s Chris Birch racing for JAM Fund in the women’s elite race. It looked frigid.
Even though I only had two ‘cross races under my belt, I had been bitten by the bug. Sitting on that trainer, I made a goal: Cyclocross Nationals 2015, in Austin TX. Because it would be warmer.
Ha. As we packed our bikes for Austin, our race-day forecast read “ice pellets.”
My goal for cross nationals was to qualify, go, and finish. Once I’d made the nationals team, my expectations didn’t change: I knew I’d be starting in the third or fourth row, I knew it was going to be a technical course, and I knew that this was my first national-level cycling event.
When we arrived in Austin, I expected to be blasting some good pump up music (read: 1989) in our minivan as we traveled to and from Zikler Park. Joe Near had other plans: our hosts, teammate Katie Maass and her parents, owned a copy of the Patriot. This played on loop (with some worthy scenes replayed for effect).
Our races included the collegiate relay (no, we don’t all ride the same bike), and the men’s and women’s D2 collegiate fields. Friday evening’s relay was on hard-packed, near-frozen dirt. The course was so fast. There was minimal mud, next to the pits, to be avoided.
After a night of rain, we arrived for Saturday morning’s pre-ride, to the sound of a military marching band on the DVD player. Matt wanted to do “at least one lap to see what had changed.” Everything had changed.
Oily. Tacky. Slick. Heavy. Slippery. Mud. This called for major changes in equipment (“get me the horse blanket”), but also strategy. While Friday’s race involved two or three dismounts for barriers and stairs, Saturday’s conditions favoured running.
The conditions led me to change my expectations: it was going to be a gong show, and it was going to be fun. Whatever happened, happened. And what ended up happening was fantastic, for me.
Our trip to Austin involved change and surprise for all of our teammates: Corey could not have expected her race to finish in the emergency ward, where she had a broken wrist re-set. Joe got a USA Cycling neck tattoo (ok, temporary). Chris had a surprise visitor, walked away with a fancy new necklace, and didn’t expect to be racing the elites on Monday (postponed from Sunday).
What else did we do in Austin? We hit the off-season hard, with the flagship Whole Foods, brownie sundaes, breakfast tacos, lunch tacos and dinner tacos, and of course some brisket (“dog is a fine meal”). We went bowling in a bar (Corey won, single-handedly). We watched the Patriot, twice.
Now, we’re back, our bikes and kits finally clean. We finished 7th in the relay, and 7th in the omnium. Lucky numbers for next year. And for me, everything has changed. I placed ninth in my first cyclocross nationals, when all I wanted to do was qualify, go, and finish. Who knows what next year will bring. See you in Asheville, where I’ll be praying for mud.
Last Saturday, 10 MIT riders went to Provincetown. Not the way most people go (a quick and easy ferry from seaport), but the long way – a 126-mile scenic bike route that took us down the coast through Sagamore and Hyannis, and then up through the Cape on a combination of wind-swept highways and gorgeous rail trails. As if the long route wasn’t punishment enough, we also started in the cold and darkness of 4:30am. Why? For the last three years, MIT Cycling has been proud to volunteer with Harbor to the Bay, an annual AIDS charity ride. Our role is to serve as course marshals at various points along the route, guiding and cheering the 300-some charity riders as they make their way along the journey.
The day started with an early breakfast in Copley square, after which we rolled out to head to our marshal positions, dotted between the 60-mile and 115-mile mark. There was no time for dawdling, as we had to reach these spots ahead of the charity riders, some of whom were starting in Hyannis, 60 miles ahead of us, but 4 hours later. Some simple maths told us we needed to average 15mph. That doesn’t sound so bad, with 10 riders in a good paceline. But, that doesn’t allow for stoppage time, and the rest stops other crew members had set up along the way were simply too good to pass up. Filled with delicious home-cooked treats, from brownies and muffins to carrot cake, we knew we wanted to stop at each one to sample the fine food. So, we hustled all the way to Hyannis, keeping a moving speed of about 18mph. We had some (brave) new riders with us, who did an awesome job keeping up and very quickly learned the benefits of drafting. It’ll be really excited to see some of these new riders racing on the road with us in the spring!
The group broke up as we dropped riders off at each marshal spot, where we were delivered lunch by the organizer and stood (or sat, depending on fatigue) directing riders and cheering them on until the last one had come through. It was incredible to see the determination and commitment of all of these charity riders, many of whom have never ridden these sorts of distances before. Perhaps even more impressive were the costumes some of them were wearing, ranging from various superhero-type capes to full-on glamorous drag.
After the sag car came through and dismissed us from our marshal spots, the group collected again and rode the final miles together, with one last town line sprint to bring us into PTown at around 5:30pm. With three hours to go before our ferry back (no, we weren’t going to re-trace our pedal strokes), we made a beeline toward food and the clean clothes we had packed to change back into. Two (or three) burgers later, we were all feeling much better, and the satisfaction of a good long ride and having helped a good cause began to sink in. The ferry ride home was pretty quiet (most of us passed out), and we all slept pretty soundly that night.
Overall, it was a fantastic day, and we’re looking forward to doing this ride again next year.
Somehow I got it into my head that I wanted to try cyclocross. I suppose all the stories about bacon and beer handups and ridiculous photos of people leaping onto bikes wearing cat leggings finally seeped into my brain. So I purchased a tiny black, red and blue Crux with sweet disc brakes and after a few frustrating and bruise-filled mornings in Danehy Park learned to mount and dismount the bike, and somehow stumble over the practice barriers. Naturally, after about two cumulative hours of ‘cross practice, I was already itching to race despite being woefully underprepared (the best training is racing! -JVDH). So off to Quadcross I went.
I arrived on race morning to pre-ride the course with our captain Matt Li, who explained the best way to approach each section of the most technical course I had ever ridden (uhhh, where’s the pavement??). I was in turn both exhilarated and completely terrified at what I was about to do.
We were the first race to go off, and I lined up at staging with my four other MIT Women teammates, feeling excited and mentally focusing on two goals – don’t get hurt, and have some fun! I am still nursing a shoulder injury from road season so I was especially concerned about the first one.
Before I knew it the gun went off and we were sprinting down the chute into the first turn. For anyone not familiar with ‘cross, the start is the most important for positioning yourself in the race, and is an all-out sprint and shoulder/elbow/hipcheck-fest. Since I was a n00b, I totally botched this part and managed to end up in last place because I dismounted on a hill and couldn’t clip back in. Meh. During the course of the race I was able to pass a few riders by motoring up the steepest parts of the course and staying upright in the tight, technical turns. The most difficult section by far was a sandpit containing 2 tight turns which I (VERY STUPIDLY and to the amusement of all watching) tried to ride, but which everyone else figured out was necessary to run through. I fell on the first two laps and then finally realized I had to dismount and run for the last two laps. I was able to complete the entire race without being lapped by the leaders and was incredibly proud to cross the finish line.
Cyclocross is a gut-wrenching, exhilarating, terrifying experience which pushes you to your limit both mentally and physically. I did things on my bike that I never thought I could do, and that was truly awesome. The spectators were incredible and the atmosphere friendly, plus there was ample food and adult beverages to enjoy. I learned more in that 40 minute race than I probably could have learned in hours of biking around in a park or on trails. CX is something you have to experience firsthand… you can’t train for all the obstacles you’ll find in a race.
Finally, perhaps my favorite part of the day was cheering on my teammates after my own race was finished – CX is a really, really fun spectator sport! If you can’t tell, I’m already hooked and signed up for my next race, Rapha SuperCross in Gloucester, MA! I definitely recommend checking out a ‘cross race – I guarantee you’ll have a fun time, whether you race or not!