Some other beginning's end: Monstercross X ('22)

Featuring the return of the mass start and the full unabridged 25-mile course!

This was my 5th time tackling the monster and its 10th running, which means I've participated in 50% of these. In those 225 miles I've come to realize that gravel racing just plain hurts. It dashes dreams and expectations. It pushes me to the absolute edge and occasionally hands me a little reward. Gravel racing might be a dom.

But having done several of these with varying success, I'd begun to set my goals higher and target faster finishes. Last year's 8th in the 40+ category would have been a 5th in the Mens Open, so I signed up for that group.

I'd done well in the 40-mile Dirty Kitten race with a 4th step podium finish and thought maybe I could surprise myself with a top 10.

I had also made some significant equipment changes from last year's race: the 38mm Donnelly EMP's that were so vague in corners and slippy on loose gravel were replaced with 40mm WTB Raddlers. The difference was night & day, and I could pick my line at speed. I was racing in my Giro Vanquish instead of a mountain bike helmet, and due to the weather was also wearing its integrated visor for full nerdball effect. And I'd fitted an old pair of clip-on aero bars with a 50mm riser.

And while my training in April of last year was waaaaay ahead of where my training has been so far this year, I'd put in time on the gravel bike, both on the open road practicing the aero position and doing recon laps of the course, including a hot lap just last week on the whole whole shebang where I spent over 80% of the lap on the skis and went a minute faster than I'd ever done at 1:29:01.

That lap, done twice, would net a sub-3h race. That lap, however, could not be done twice by me, and I knew that going into the race. And that lap, having come less than 3 days before the start of the race, may have been my undoing.

Now there's a lot that went wrong today, and a lot of it echoes challenges that I've faced in the past, but let me first acknowledge what went right:

1. Nothing broke, I didn't crash, and I finished the race.
2. Though it was extremely cold (for me), I managed my layers well and affixed hand-warmers to all my main grip-points and avoided any issues to my extremities.
3. My first lap was 2.5 minutes faster than the PR I'd just set 3 days ago.
4. My 2nd lap, though it didn't go to plan, was still evidently my fastest 2nd lap ever.
5. I didn't lose myself to despair during that long solo period that happens in the back half of this race.
6. All of my equipment choices/changes were validated. Aero bars are amazing on gravel.
7. I saw friends and had an overall good time.
8. I hurt less than after previous efforts. I think this, too, is a reflection of the aero bars.

All of that is great, but I missed my target of 3h by 11 minutes, and 4 of those minutes were spent standing still after a cascade of failures.

That first lap was not just fast: it was brutal. Just like last year, splits came early--like in the first 2 miles. And the return of the mass-start meant I had no idea whom I was racing. There's nothing to indicate someone is racing in the open field or 40+ or 50+ or even 60+: they're all just out there jockeying for position.

In an effort to not get stalled out of the gate, I'd managed to grid up right at the absolute front, but even so the front group was already splintering within 0.5 miles of hitting the gravel. Trying to cover gaps was burning matches that I'd need later, so I let myself sit in and watched the money go up the road.

 NBD all I needed was a fast crew to hit my goals! And it seemed I'd found my crew as we rolled the next 12 miles together, gaps opening and closing, dropping onto the skis periodically to keep the speeds high, and neatly getting myself back out of trouble every time it appeared with a quick trip to the skis. Seriously: TT bars on gravel bikes are amazing (and should probably be banned. ssssshhhhh).

But then came the dumb little twisty bridge, and for whatever reason we came to an actual halt on it, and I couldn't get back up to speed to stay with the group. The 10 or so guys ahead got away, and the 3 or 4 of us behind had to make do with each other. We were not as motivated as they.

By the time we'd made it around the top half of the course, we'd picked up a few more, but my fueling strategy had been to stop at the team tent at the beginning of the 2nd lap and swap bottles & pick up my Gatorade flask. It was a mistake that would cost me so so much time.

I hadn't practiced riding with that flask in that jersey with those gloves. The combination was simply incompatible. The 12oz flask fits in almost all jersey pockets, and this one is just a tick smaller. It could fit, but I couldn't do it in the gloves that I needed for today's low temps. Every time I tried to take a drink it would take me almost a minute to coax the flask back into the pocket, and that was time I really couldn't spend focused on the race.

It also put me in a slightly awkward position that made my back start screaming at me. I did my best to hold on to a new, smaller group that I'd caught on to, but after 3 or 4 miles just gave up. Like big time completely gave up. Slower than would even justify being on the TT bars. Or maybe not because at that exact same time my speed/cadence sensor got wonky and started reporting 0 - 5mph readings. And again because of those stupid f*ing gloves I couldn't even disable it. Mileage stopped climbing even though I was moving, and everything just got into my head all at once. Basically the entire run along Beach Rd up to the dam climb was wonky data, failed attempts at drinking the Gatorade, and pain.

Other riders were catching and passing me and I couldn't do anything about it.

After the dam climb I pulled over again, drank all the stupid Gatorade at once, ate a bar, watched 3 more groups of riders go by, disabled that stupid Wahoo S/C sensor, and climbed on to tackle the remaining who-knows-how-many miles, figuring I had at least an hour to go and thinking I was almost 40 minutes behind pace.

And just like last year I didn't see another soul for almost 10 miles. But I focused up. I got back onto the skis and just motored. Because just like last year, once I got rolling nobody was passing me, either. I wasn't 'back in the game', but I also wasn't worried about a DNF.

And while my back hurt, I was increasingly aware that my arms did not. Usually by 40 miles into this race I'm acutely aware of my triceps, and they weren't in any pain. Credit to the TT bars! I was also flying through turns that I would usually take very gingerly because of the new tires. 

And by mile 45 I was catching people again. First one, then two, then a couple more. Nothing amazing like catching back onto a paceline, but it was affirming.

And then came that damned walking trail with it's awkward switchbacks and big roots and (nearly) compulsory dismount, and while I made it through only having to do that one dismount, I started to feel my legs seizing like in 2020. I was a mile to the end and couldn't stand off the saddle for the tricky final descent/climb/descent in that trail, so just had to take all the impacts and hope the tires would hold. In that I still managed to pick off one more rider, though I also gave up 2 overall spots there, and rolled up the hill to the finish line in 21st for the Men Open category, 3:11:15 on the day.

The winners were 25 minutes up the road.

Once again I know I have work to do, but it's not the same work as last time. Last time I thought I needed more confidence turning, but it turns out new tires squared that away. I'm also not yet limited by the aero performance of the bike frame, so equipment isn't it, either.

I have to practice using the equipment in the exact configuration it will be used race day. The flask/gloves/jersey combo really disrupted my rhythm, and having the hand-warmers under the hoods changed the shape just enough to make climbing awkward, which made my hands feel tired. It all worked, but none of it worked particularly well.

I also hadn't worn my cold-weather boots for anything approaching 50 miles. They're ok, but bulky enough to rub the cranks and heavy heavy heavy. Nor had I worn the Vanquish's visor in quite some time. It kept bouncing off the bridge of my nose and was driving me nuts, but I can't wear my sunglasses with a brimless cold-weather hat because that bounces off the helmet and the noise drives me nuts. I tried finding a thermal hat with a brim, but the one I got was so thick it made my helmet look like a hat on a hat.

I need to stop relying on bars for fuel and go back to gels. I tend to choke on solid foods and really struggle to open the packages, so that's not working. My pause on lap 2 to just eat a bar was a 3-minute stop. Fine in a group ride with store stops--unacceptable in a race.

I need to get more 3+ hour rides under my belt, but that's really hard with schedules and commitments, so that may have to be solved creatively.

I need to trust that I can be fast on my own without needing a fusillade of draft-partners. It's so tempting to chase on to a group to hide in the draft, but it's a trap. You spend less energy in the group, generally, but spike power chips away at stamina as gaps open. With the TT bars I can just motor and stay out of Z5 and pick off riders one-by-one as they get dropped.

I need to also stop trying to chase the "optimal" category. I raced "open" this year because of last year's results, but both groups were almost 3x their sizes from last year, and I'd have been rewarded with a better result for staying in 40+. Fortunately that die is cast for May 7 gravel nationals.

Right now, though, I need rest: Stokesville Strade 60-mile gravel race is in 2 weeks, and a lot of work to do between now and May.