Monstercross Revisited: a bit more analysis

With a couple of days between me and the race, I figured it was time to shift from focusing on what went wrong to what went right. And there was plenty to be happy about.

First off: no mechanicals. I often take that for granted, because I try to take good care of my stuff, but there were riders all over the course working on their bikes. In 2016 I flatted and crashed twice, and I've torn up a fair bit of equipment in Poco on other occasions.

The jockey wheels started sounding awful at 15 miles, and the bottom bracket is probably toast, but everything made it through. Honestly the biggest issue I had was a couple of slow shifts near the granny end of the cassette, which is to be expected for a cable set that was installed almost 3 years ago and has almost 1000 off-road miles. (NOTE TO SELF: replace the cables)

And with new wheels and tires that had literally only seen service riding up and down my driveway one time, I wasn't sure what I'd be in for over 50 miles. I'd previously mounted the new tires on my old wheels and struggled to keep the front sealed, but last night, 30 hours after finishing the race, they were only 4 psi down from my pre-race inflation. Woohoo!

Second: no crashes. I missed the same turn on both laps but was able to ride the outside berm. I took careful lines through the water crossings and knew the course well enough to avoid some of the worst tire-damaging obstacles. The bike got loose a couple of times, but I always gave myself room to work.

Third: my body performed exactly as well as it could have, given my limited training time. I don't run a power meter on that bike, and yes I know Strava's estimated power is about as accurate as writing down random numbers in the dark, but what it reflects is exactly how I felt, and exactly what I expected.

Hour 1: pursuit (~204W est., HR 170 avg.)

Hour 2: maintain (~188W est., HR 170 avg.)

Hour 3: wane (~162W est., HR 163 avg.)

Hour 4: fail (~106W est., HR 151 avg.)

Obviously hours 3 & 4 would have benefited from actually eating, but the overall average estimated power is exactly in line with what I've done in previous 3+ hour events, even when on form, so I'm frustrated, but not disappointed. I know I need to add longer training rides to my regular schedule.

Fourth: I got my layering exactly right. I mean *exactly*. The temps were supposed to go from 40F at the start to 55F by the end. If that had happened, I'd have been over-dressed. But it didn't:

I never regretted the leg warmers, the wool socks, or even the long-sleeve baselayer. The light hat, mid-weight gloves, and summer shoes were also, weirdly, exactly the right calls. Usually my extremities suffer in these conditions, but even after jamming my right foot straight into the freezing creek, I was fine.

Fifth: if I can fix my nutrition game (which should be a simple as not wearing a pocket-less skinsuit), I'll be in contention for a decent finish. I ended up 25th of 86 in the men's open, but would have been closer to 18th, had I not completely collapsed in the final miles. A time-gap conveniently shows exactly how much ground I lost to one of my closest and most equal competitors:

As mentioned in my previous post, I made the split when the rider behind me crashed in the creek, and put just about 4 minutes on him over most of the 2nd lap. But right there at mile 42 the tables turned. Even though I gave up 3 of those minutes in my slow-roll toward the final trail, I still could have held him at bay through the final mile if I had just been able to ride the bike. He finished 19th.

But though I am frustrated with my finish and my nutrition strategy, I can be proud of having put down one of my hardest efforts ever. In fact, 3rd hardest according to the graph, as measured by Strava's "Relative Effort" metric. Only my first century and the 2016 Richmond marathon were "harder".

Now, Relative Effort isn't exactly science. It's just a measure of heart-rate deviation from max over the time of the event, so it doesn't take actual power into account. So while my relative effort was high, it doesn't mean my power was, necessarily. The estimators show I haven't lost much ground in the power department, but I do know I have some work ahead to be in peak form for the road & gravel season. That said, 2.5 hours at Z4+ is nothing to sneeze at.

What it means for me, though, is that I'm on the wrong side of what I call the "wattage economy", or power / heart-rate

You can see in this chart that that has generally trended upward at this time each year, but there's a catch. This year, as with every previous year, I've been doing most of my winter training on Zwift. Racing, group riding, whatever. But this is the first year I've relied entirely on the bike's power meter to measure power. For a while I didn't even bother with spin-downs with the Kickr Snap because they would just fail. A few months ago I started to realize that the power reported by the Kickr didn't even come close to matching the power meter on the bike, so I standardized. My TT bike has its own power meter, too, so I'm consistent across the board with measuring at the crank/spider. So while the numbers are down comparatively, I think it's probably misleading: Zwift was recording numbers that were high by as much as 25%, in some cases (sorry Zwift community!). And either way, it's trending upward from January (1.28) to February (1.34).

Better still, my power is closing in on my best ever Wintergreen hill-climb average, and that's only 2 months away.

So there's a lot to be happy about. I have to do some work before the bike will be race-ready again, and I need to add some longer rides to my training calendar, but all-in-all things are looking pretty good!

Monstercross 2020

I figure if I'm gonna declare that 2020 is gonna be about that gravel, I'd be a fool to miss the first and most established gravel race of the season. So with no rides in 2020 reaching anywhere near the 3-hour mark, and with a heap of corporate travel over the past few weeks, I signed up at the last possible moment and took on this humdinger of a beast.

Monstercross is, without a doubt, the single hardest race event I've ever undertaken. This was my 3rd time. The first time, in 2016, was the first race I ever abandoned--a fact that remained true for almost 4 years. The next year I made it to the end and swore I'd never do it again. I literally couldn't get off the bike after it was done.

Somehow I forgot all that. Time, apparently, really does heal all wounds.

Monstercross is a 2 lap, 50 mile assault on the fireroads of Pocahontas State Park. Each lap features about 3 miles of pavement, a mile or so of what could probably be considered "trails", and the rest is all gravel. A few brutal walls, some long gradual climbs, 2 creek-crossings that can be ridden, and one that pretty much must be portaged. Total elevation for the whole race is just about 2700', so not the steepest race in the world, but there is plenty of pain to dish out.

This year, with temps forecasted to reach the low 50's, registration reached almost 700. In 2017, I burned a LOT of matches in the first 10 miles moving up through pockets of riders. My goal this year was to grid up closer to the front and conserve energy.

But I am incapable of following even the simplest of plans, and of course I started near the back again.

All along the road for the first mile or so, "road captains" helpfully volunteered that everyone should keep it calm and slow. That's fine if you're on a 4+ hour plan, but I had places to go. Fortunately, where the course left the pavement and crossed the narrowest of bumps on to the fireroads, a huge traffic jam brought over 100 riders to a complete stop.

I saw another opening and led a small vanguard through, and just like that the race was on. Instead of fighting for 250th, I had space to work, and work and work and work. I moved patiently but quickly, and by mile 5 I had caught my only real bunny: G. Costa. I settled into the group and we worked pretty well, holding together for about 15 miles to the 2nd creek crossing.

I had told the group to stay right for skinny tires, but one guy behind me ended up going over the bars. And just like that, the group was shredded. I made the split and came through start/finish with a group of 7, but I did not feel fresh.

My fueling strategy was built on hope and wishes. I'd worn a skinsuit with no pockets, had a full Camel-bak, and a bottle of Gatorade. Two energy gels were crammed up the legs of my skinsuit, but there was no real way to grab them without stopping. So I choked down as much Gatorade as I could whenever I started feeling weak, which was happening with increasing frequency.

I set my sights on holding with the group to mile 30. Then mile 33. Then 35. 38. 40. By mile 42, the jig was up. I was only holding on because they were slowing down. The group would fracture and rejoin, but on the first trail section, one guy basically stopped right in front of me on a steep pitch and upset my momentum. And that was it. I'd made it with them almost to mile 43, but the fight was gone.

We put together a small chase and held the group to about 15 seconds for another mile or so, but once we hit that 2nd creek crossing again I just switched it off and slow-rolled. I was only 5 miles from the end and had no desire to end the day with an injury, and G. Costa was well behind me. Just a gentle roll to the finish: nothing dramatic.

At mile 47 my left thigh seized. At 47.3 my right calf followed. At 47.8 my right thigh joined the party. I slowed almost to a stop, finally fished out a gel (I KNOW) and pressed on. Another rider caught me and I held his wheel almost to the Swift Creek trail hub, then bombed solo to the 2nd trail.

And there, at 48.8 miles, my legs both seized again. I could not physically turn the pedals. So I got off and discovered that I also could not walk. Neat. So I waddled, rode down to the final creek crossing, and then just stood there for a minute or so, trying to figure out how to make my legs do something that wouldn't result in me ending up with my face in the water.

That, in turn, led to me walking the bike up every remaining climb, then riding down the other sides, all the way back to the final bridge, where I made it my mission in life to ride up that boat ramp to the finish line.

I crossed the line at 3:13 (Garmin time - 3:18 chip time) and fell off the bike. Seems I'd solved the problem from the end of the 2017 race of how to dismount.

In my walk-a-bike disgrace, G. Costa caught and passed me, but TBH as hard as the whole thing was, I kind of enjoyed it. The post-race food was great, and it was great to catch up with my racing buds so early in the season. Maybe most importantly, I haven't lost the gravel bug. My bike sounds like a Walmart special and my body is forrealz messed up, but I have a great handle on my fitness level and I'm super pumped about the 2020 racing season. Can't wait to get out there and keep rockin' with my FSR peeps!