The Blunderer’s Guide to Cyclocross

How to become a cyclocrosser in I don’t know how many probably not so easy steps.

As the road racing season is drawing to a close, some turn to cyclocross to get themselves through the winter. As I’d joined Swift Leiden in the beginning of the year, and done satisfactory (at least to me) in the club competition, I’d thought it’d be fun to also enter into their cyclocross competition. Having never done anything that even comes close to cyclocross, not even on my ATB (as I use that bike exclusively for beach races), I have no idea what I’d gotten myself into. Well, read all about it here!

October 3: after yesterday’s fiasco, where I pulled out of the first training on accounts of being a liability to the others, I tried to figure out what’d gone wrong. Granted, the course was a bit more challenging than I’d be comfortable with, but there was more to it than just that. I pretty quickly came to the conclusion that I felt like having insufficient control over the bike. I found a couple of reasons why that might be. First of all, I’ve never been on a crosser, apart from a few test rides to get the settings sort-of correct. The geometry of a crosser is different from a road bike, so its handling is different, too. Second, even though I’d tinkered with the settings, there’s no guarantee I’d gotten it right. Third, I might try riding in the drops rather than using the brake grips. So the plan was to try again this afternoon, but with some changes. I’d lowered thr tire pressure, and I’d be riding in the drops.

Arriving at the course, I turned out to be the only one there. Well, at least I’d be in no one’s way. My plan was to redo yesterday’s training. After going through the first couple of bends I’d figured out that riding in the drops was actually harder than holding the grips, which by itself was sub-optimal already. So the plan was in tatters in about five minutes. So, what’s next?  While noodling around a bit aimlessly, I spotted a single bush in the grass. Just as an exercise, I decided to try to ride the smallest circle around it. That turned out to be harder than I thought. After four or five full circles I started to feel a bit dizzy, so I circle around the other way. Equally difficult. Riding ’round in circles gets boring pretty fast, so I turned to riding figure-eights by just adding another circle. That was actually more useful than riding circles, as I found out that a left turn – right turn conversion is made easier by shifting your weight. Slowly but surely, I was getting more control on the bike. Back to those first set of bends. Lo and behold, they were now easier to ride through! Progress! After a few more passes both ways, I felt I’d done enough here for the day, especially because the tire pressure was a bit too low.

At home, I upped the pressure, and started looking for somewhere to train a bit more. There’s plenty of grass around, but it’s all just a little bit too nice to lay down some tracks in it. After some driving around, I found twenty trees, all spaced about two meters from one another. Perfect to slalom through! After doing a few passes, I decided to turn the bars a bit more upright as I felt I didn’t have complete control yet. It was getting much better compared to yesterday, but still. After turning the bars, I went back for a few more passes. Yeah, big improvement. Now, I can go faster, and when moving my weight back on the saddle, I can even slide the back wheel into the curve. Now, that’s a neat trick!

October 4: well, if you want to cross, you better bring your shoes… The plan was to train some more on the club course after work, but as I left the shoes at home, and having an appointment later in the evening, that plan fell through. So after work, I went straight home, and did some zig-zagging through the trees that I found yesterday. Being on a crosser is something I have to get used to, I now found out. On the first couple of passes through the trees, it was almost just as awkward as yesterday, although I went through them somewhat faster. Thankfully, after those first passes, I got into the rhythm, and things got a lot easier. I also found out how sliding the back wheel  works: you push the bike down when steering into the bend, and when it’s slippery enough, it’ll slide out. And as you’re now into the bend, the bike rises, and the back side’s OK again. I just love finding out this sort of stuff.

October 5: having both the helmet and the shoes in the car, I went to the club course. On the recce-ride, I noticed that the bend where things went so wrong on Tuesday had been altered. Rather than halfway into the descent, it now is placed at the bottom, so when you miss it, you don’t career into harm’s way. As if they’d know.

The first thing I did was to go back to those bends from Tuesday and Wednesday. However, due to the copious amounts of rain that fell during the past days, it was slippery as hell. Still, I had a few good passes through it.  After adding the to and fro from the bottom section to it, I went to the second section. I only did that one once. The bend at the bottom went OK, but the grass and mud were so slippery, there was no way to bike back up. No point repeating that…. So, next up, the dreaded descent. Well, the new version. First pass went sort-of OK, not too fast, maybe a bit too cautious. Second pass went better, more smoothly. The third time, the back wheel slipped down… Nothing bad happened, fortunately. I then combined the first section with the third, and that was sweet. Didn’t go too fast, that’s for later.

Now, there’s a ride tomorrow. I did a recce on the way home. It looks flat, so who knows? I just might….

October 6: I decided that I don’t want to be a mere hindrance to the others, so rather than going to Alphen, I postponed my debut in cyclocross by (at least) a week. After doing some chores at the house, the rain had stopped falling, and I went out for a ride. So far, I’ve only found those twenty trees to train with, and that’s not much. The goal for today was finding more training tracks. That proved fairly hard to find. Most grassy fields were nearly submerged, others were sandy, so not very usable to train bike control. I did find a bunch of single tracks, but officially they’re off-limits as they’re intended for horse-back riders. They’re good for building stamina, though. I’ll probably make a revisit tomorrow.

October 7: today, I went out on those single tracks. As I rarely ride there, I had no idea where I was going. It showed.  Taking the first footpath took me in the opposite direction, I found out. Rather than going back the same way, I checked whether the route along the Amsterdam-Rijnkanaal was already opened. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, and I had no other option but to go back to where I took the left to the footpath…

After this  small mishap, I did get to the single tracks, and were they hard to ride. Not only because they’re extremely bumpy, but also half of the time, a well-paved cycle- or footpath runs right next to it. It’s very hard to resist taking them instead. As for my cluelessness as to where I was, at some point I thought it cool that I could follow some tracks, only to realize a few twists and turns later that those tracks were mine. I laid them there yesterday…. Going back home took me though some water, after which all grease had been removed from the chain. As the squeaking became pretty unpleasant, not only did I have to clean the bike, but the chain as well, and lube it.

October 10: yesterday evening, I had the second official training. The first practice run went OK, down a slippery steep slope, make a 180, then climb out of this pit (just doable for me), two switchbacks, over a grassy ridge, down again building speed, and going up the steep slope just meters next to the starting descent. I managed to do that twice or thrice before being completely out of breath. It’s becoming clear to me that I lack raw power and stamina, and that I’m overweight for this stuff. The second run pretty much was the first in reverse, but as the slippery steep slope was near impossible to climb, the trick here was to jump off the bike at the right moment, and walk up the slope. I only did that once, as when I jumped off the bike, I pulled the very same muscle I injured a week before. So I skipped that part, and did a couple of all-out descents. The third practice run was riding two by two through some switchbacks, and going up and down the side of a hill. I skipped that one, as I felt that I wouldn’t have sufficient control for that due to that pulled muscle as it still was painful. I did join the bunch for the final practice run: a tarmac race over about 300m, just to train the start. Man, that was hard! We did it three times, and I felt pretty wasted each time.

Today, I repeated a few of yesterday’s and last week’s exercises. I did one descent I skipped last week, fiirst time wenk OK, second time not so good. That’s on the list for tomorrow. Also on the list is the dreaded descent where I went down last week, as I didn’t really get around doing that one today. Lastly, jumping off and on the bike will be on the list. I may even combine that with jumping over the bars that have been laid down.

I’ve heard that Lisse has a pretty flat course, so I probably will start there on Sunday. Saturday is still undecided. There’s one at Sloten, which probably is also flat, but I may also opt for a 50km tour.

To be continued.

Weggewaaid…..

De MonsterTijdRit stond vandaag op het programma. Voor eenieder die onbekend is met dit fenomeen: de MonsterTijdRit is een tijdrit (joh!) over drie ronden van 40.8km, dus in totaal een 122.4km, en is daarmee de langste in Nederland. Er zijn langere tijdritten: in de UK en de US worden century time trials gehouden. Inderdaad, over 100 mijl.

Het parcours van de MTR ligt ten noordoosten van Almere. Dat betekent wind. Persoonlijk heb ik liever eerst de wind tegen, en dan in de rug, maar vandaag mocht dat niet zo zijn. Het eerste lange rechte eind ging met de wind mee, en dus het tweede lange rechte eind ging recht tegen de wind in.

Toen ik om even over negenen in de auto stapte was het bijna windstil, maar bij de start aangekomen stond er al een windje. Op het eerste gezicht leek het niet veel voor te stellen, maar bij het inrijden merkte ik dat het een dichte wind was, die niet lekker om je heen dwarrelt, maar waar je als een muur doorheen moet rijden. Na het inrijden klaarmaken voor de start, en richting de lijn.

Het plan was om de eerste ronde met een hartslag van een 160bpm te gaan rijden, de tweede ronde tot een 165bpm, en dan zou ik nog wel genoeg over moeten hebben voor de laatste ronde. Afgezien van de eerste kilometers direct na de start, waar er zijwind was, lukte dat wel. Aan het eind van het lange rechte stuk ging het rechtsaf, en was er weer zijwind. Tandje teruggeschakeld, en alles was onder controle. Ik kreeg zo af en toe een harde windvlaag, maar op zich is dat niet zo raar. De begroeiing heeft gaten, en er staan boerderijen en schuren, dus een rukwind is niet zo vreemd. Ik merkte wel dat mijn hartslag geregeld boven 165bpm uitkwam. Even wat minder kracht op de trappers zetten, en het zakte naar net boven de 160bpm. Aan het eind ook hier naar rechts, en recht tegen de wind in. Weer een tandje terug, en alles onder controle. Tenminste, als ik op mijn hartslag bleef letten, want ook op dit stuk ging die geregeld de lucht in. Kon weer opschakelen in de lange bocht naar het stuk richting start en finish. Vooralsnog ging het wel OK.

De tweede ronde was een aardige herhaling van de eerste ronde, met dien verstande dat ik een tandje zwaarder kon rijden. Onderhand begonnen ook een aantal kleine pijntjes de kop op te steken: de onderarmen, de schouders, het zitvlak. Heel vertrouwd, allemaal, ik had het al twee keer eerder meegemaakt. So far, so good. De vlagerigheid van de zijwind leek weer wat meer te zijn, wat weer resulteerde in het omhoog schieten van de hartslag. Deze keer was ik daarop voorbereid, en had ik de zaak eerder in de hand. Ook het lange stuk tegen de wind in leverde weinig problemen op. Op naar de derde ronde.

Bij de tweede passage was ik zo’n twee en een half uur onderweg. Als ik zo door zou gaan, zou ik zo om de 3 uur 45 minuten finishen. Ik had eigenlijk 3 uur 40 in gedachten voor de start, maar dit was ook wel goed. Het stuk met de wind in de rug weer op het wat zwaardere verzet gedraaid, en om de onderarmen en schouders wat te ontlasten kwam ik een paar keer overeind. Met de wind in de rug is dat niet zo erg. Bij het einde-rechts viel het me gelijk op dat de zijwind een stuk harder was dan eerder, en de rukwinden waren ook krachtiger. Het kostte me net te veel kracht om op het verzet dat ik daar de vorige ronden getrapt had rond te blijven rijden, dus schakelde ik terug. Dat was een tegenvaller. Het zou hoogstwaarschijnlijk ook inhouden dat ik het stuk tegen de wind in ook lichter moest rijden dan in de vorige ronden. Een paar honderd meter verder vond ik dat dit verzet net iets te licht was, dus voor en achter schakelen om een beter verzet te vinden. Dat lukte.

En toen ging het mis.

Ik keek al een tijdje op de zwaardere stukken wat scheel, maar daar was deze ronde een licht gevoel van misselijkheid bijgekomen. En nu begon mijn rechter kuit stijf te worden, en zat aardig dicht tegen verkrampen aan. En dan, in een paar seconden, is alle kracht weg. De snelheid zakt en zakt, en eindelijk kun je een slakkegangetje vast houden. En omdat het stuk tegen de wind in nog moet komen, weet je dat je dit jaar geen goede tijd gaat halen. En omdat het nu dan toch niet meer uitmaakt, ga je in de houding zitten die het minst aantal pijntjes oplevert.Nog even overwogen om de kortste weg terug te nemen, maar ik heb liever een slechte tijd achter mijn naam staan dan DNF. Er zijn mensen die daar anders over denken, maar dit is mijn afwijking, zullen we maar zeggen.

En omdat er nu wat meer zuurstof beschikbaar is, toch maar eens nagedacht over waar en hoe het nu mis is gelopen. Ik had wellicht wat meer duurwerk kunnen doen, maar dat plan kwam in de verdrukking toen ik een nieuwe wegfiets kocht, en een weeklang bezig ben geweest om die goed afgesteld te krijgen. Toch denk ik niet dat dat de hoofdoorzaak is. Ik denk dat het aantrekken van de wind dat is. Het feit dat ik de tweede keer op het rechte stuk een zwaarder verzet kon schakelen was niet het gevolg van het feit dat ik nu goed opgewarmd was, maar omdat het harder was gaan waaien. De hardere rukwinden waren daar ook een teken van. Klaarblijkelijk heb ik dat niet opgemerkt op het stuk tegen de wind in. Wellicht dat het daar de eerste keer ook al harder was gaan waaien dan ik bij de start had ervaren. Ik denk dat ik op die stukken net iets meer kracht heb gezet dan eigenlijk moest, voeg daar de uitschieters in de hartslag bij, en ik denk dat je dan aardig dicht bij de oorzaak zit.

Tot zover het nakaarten. Boeiender is de vraag of ik dit een volgende keer kan voorkomen, of eerder kan onderkennen. Nu zijn scheel kijken en een gevoel van misselijkheid geen goede voortekenen, maar op zich hoeft dat nog niets te zeggen. Ik heb wel vaker niet al te fris uit de ogen gekeken en me niet echt lekker gevoeld zonder dat het veel gevolgen had. Anders ligt het met de uitschieters in de hartslag. Bij mijn weten is dit de eerste keer dat ik dit bij een tijdrit meemaak. Bij een toertocht stap je een keer vaker af, en bij het hardlopen gaat het me meer om het uitlopen dan om de tijd (tot op zekere hoogte). Dat zal dus volgend jaar in mijn achterhoofd zitten. Want een eindtijd van 4:03 schreeuwt om verbetering.

Time Trial Tinkering

Among other things, I partake in time trials. How that came about is something I’ll write about some other time, as it doesn’t stop at time trials, and is quite an amusing story on its own.

Time trialing consists of two things: biking as fast as possible on a set course while trying not to have yourself killed before the finish line, and endless tinkering with the bike in order to achieve this goal. No matter what bike you ride, be it a normal road bike, or a specialist’s TT-bike, you tinker. With the bars, with the saddle, with the height of them, with your wheels, with the tires, with whatever there is to tinker with. Sometimes the tinkering pays off, sometimes not so much.

Just to get a perspective of where I stand, I’m a recreant. My (first) big goal is doing 25mph on a 10 miles time trial. Nowhere near the big boys, but that’s OK. Not everyone is a Cancellara, nor is everyone a Bolt, nor a Kromowidjojo. As long as you’re having fun (in whichever way you may define fun), it’s OK.

My gear is a regular (aluminum) road bike, with a clip-on tri-bar. Nothing too fancy, although I carefully picked the tri-bar for having the lowest positioning for a reasonable price. Up until this summer, the only other modification I made to the bike was moving the saddle a bit forward compared to my road bike. Beginning this summer, I started to push a bigger gear. By itself, this is not such a big change, and I’ve gone it once before. this time, however, I started to feel a bit uneasy with my position on the bike. The saddle height was OK, but the handle bars were a bit high. As there were two spacers underneath the stem, dropping the bars was easy.

On the next time trial, I did notice that the new position was paying off, but also that staying stationary on the saddle became a painful affair. Moving a bit backwards on the saddle didn’t help much as it was just as small as at the tip. Now, there’s a rule that the saddle may not be any closer to the heart of the bottom bracket than 5cm (measured vertically), and you may have an issue with that rule with a regular saddle on a TT-bike. So manufacturers produced TT-saddles, with a shortened tip. So I got me one.

Here’s the two of them, the regular one on top of the new one. The difference is about 3cm. Within a second of the first test ride, I realized I had a problem. As this was a regular bike, the tip of this TT-saddle in its most forward position was about at the same spot as a regular saddle would be in its most backward position…

As I had a time trail the next day, I could either put the old saddle back, and suffer through it, or come up with a trick, as I liked the new position a lot better.

Now, if you look at the seat stem, its head is pointing backward. What if I turned it around, and have it point forward? I had just one worry: as the seat tube slants backward, the head of the seat stem is adjusted, so it’s horizontal. By turning the seat stem around, the head will point upward, and it may be possible that the saddle will tilt not far enough to compensate for that.

Well, it got close. It’s not horizontal, but it’s off by just a tiny bit, as you can see if you look closely enough. A test ride showed that you barely noticed.

The time trial didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. While warming up, I felt the saddle slip a bit. Checking it while still riding (jerking the sip up and down) showed that it was still firm enough to continue. The course was U-shaped, with start and finish at one leg, and a turning point at the other. It went pretty good until the last turn. Heading into a small headwind, I needed far more time to regain speed that I normally would, and maintaining speed proved too hard, even when shifting to an easier gear. The finish time was 20 seconds down from by best of 0:23:16 on this 14.4km course. Still, not too bad, but it could’ve been better.

When I checked the bike later, I noticed that the saddle had slipped all the way back. I don’t know when it slipped back, it may have been already so at the start, but it might have slipped during the trial, but it may very well have caused the problems on the home stretch.

It’s now back in the intended, forward position, and I’ve got another time trial tomorrow to test it once more. One thing is for certain: there’s more tinkering on the way, come win or lose.
Note added: the time trial went OK, saddle-wise. I would’ve loved to be a bit faster, but looking at the data (heart rate and cadence), I don’t think I could’ve been much faster.