Midnight Ride

[MarkMiller321]

The way that CX season coincides with the beginning of the school year is a godsend. Despite the fact that I unequivocally love what I do it is physically and mentally exhausting. I think if I could impart one truth on the younger riders on the team it would be that even when life is going exceedingly awesome it is still absurdly tough. The majority of us are riding bikes not because we expect to earn a UCI contract, but rather we need the release to get through our lives. Between CX practices and races on Wednesdays throughout the fall I get that mid week release that I need. Whether or not you make a career of racing a bike or not just remember that the bike has a bigger purpose in your life.

Midnight Ride is one of those days I look forward to all summer. The course is everything that I love about CX and it totally suits my flat out balls to the wall style. This year my progression had continued and I was beyond excited about my impending front row call up. Two hours before the race I was excited before I even started to get excited for the action. Despite the saturating heat and humidity I knew that I was on and had the legs to be in contention. My goal was to finish in the top five which would be a major improvement from the year before when I finished outside of the top ten. Secretly I had aspirations of being on the podium if everything fell into place.

Once I was at staging I was excited but also incredibly calm. Throughout the year I have worked really hard on stressing less about racing my bike. I’ve accepted the fact that it means a lot to me but I’ve also decided that I’m not going to let it ruin my life because of fretting or worrying about performances. At this point my sole purpose is to focus on factors that I can control and to execute in races. With all of that bullshit out of my head this fall I have been racing with a renewed love for the sport.

Sitting on the grid with some serious studs I was completely in the moment and ready to rock. At the whistle I was moving instantly and before I knew it I was having the best start of my career. I was flying and had a great line as I sat fourth wheel into the first fast sweeper. I was so excited and confident that I was going to get in the lead group from the start and that I wasn’t going to have to burn matches bridging gaps. During that instant of a thought the JAM Fund rider directly in front of me slid out and collected me in his own personal yard sale.

Crap crap crap!

I was up quick but took a hit to the head as I was trying to remount. My left brake hood was turned way in and my seat was pointed down. I managed to get the seat “flat” but had to readjust it the rest of the race. Just as I was remounting I noticed Nate of the deck struggling to remount. I was so pissed and had about a thirty second pity party about the crash. I was angry but immediately accepted that the crash was out of my control. The sooner I got over it the quicker I could decided my next move. Really there were three options that I was faced with before the next bend. I could ride off the course and be a total baby about the unfortunateness of the crash and drag everyone else down with my attitude, terrible option, no. Option two was to mail it in and just ride and finish in the back of the pack. It would have been so easy to just ride and then drink beer afterward lamenting the crash and waxing philosophical about what could have been, no, still a crappy plan. Option three was the hard road. Suck it up, go harder than hard, and pass as many riders as possible. Execute!

Halfway into the first lap I was in 35th place.

As I was finding my rhythm I noticed a cool thing that was happening. When dudes were seeing me they were throwing down 100% trying to hang and not get passed. Not being disrespectful but I knew that these guys couldn’t hang. They were as desperate for points as I was and knew that this train was moving! Traffic is traffic in a cross race, something that needs to be dispatched. In these moments I start seeing two or three moves ahead and relish the challenge. As the adrenaline wore off the searing pain of the effort began to set in and I realized that option three was a terrible freaking idea! Man I love option three!

Into the middle laps I was catching whole groups at a time and the numbers dwindled. 35th turned into 20th which turned into fifteenth and I started to notice some kits and familiar faces. I was driving the pants off my bike and actually impressing myself with my bike handling skills. Evey lap the sandpit became my domain to out power, out drive, and then out power one last time.

Having the team on the course was insane. Being part of MRC has been such an awesome journey the past two seasons. I really felt like everyone was invested in my effort and that the outcome was bigger than just a result. Nate and Patrick’s mechanic, Jesse was on duty and with Nate crashed out he was working the pit for me. Every lap he was standing with my wheels at the ready yelling time spits to the next group of riders. This may be as pro as I ever feel.

Into the last lap I was still driving my brains out despite the weight of the effort. Even tired my technical chops were hanging in when a new reality set in. There were two more riders in my crosshairs. Whatever is past full gas was where I was riding the last quarter lap of the race. I sprinted down the last hill into the last two 180 degree turns. On the last longer climb I knew I was running out of time so I just sprinted as hard as I could. Onto the pavement one last time and into a dead sprint that had no consequence to anyone but myself. Across the line I played my best Belgian and smacked my handle bars frustrated and still hungry.

When the literal and figurative dust settled I was sixth, eight seconds out from fourth and fifth. More frustratingly thirty-five seconds behind Trent for the last step on the podium. I’m not going to sit here and play woulda, shoulda, coulda but I will say that I was going to be on the podium. The team took away some solace with my 35 plus podium spot it was just the wrong step! On to Night Weasels!

Mark

[JeremyC]

Across the line I played my best Belgian and smacked my handle bars frustrated and still hungry.

Its funny you mention that because I commented to the guys you'd been contemplating the bar slap for 4 laps... Great race, even better job not packing it in, I would have roasted you for that

[pace21]

It really was an awesome spectacle to watch Mark. Seeing you like 40th over the barriers on lap 1 was kinda like watching the Patriots at the start of the second half in the super bowl haha.

My race was weird. RIDICULOUSLY hot, but I felt like I was driving a little better than years past, but more importantly I was able to lay down the watts on the abundant power sections and actually not just hang on wheels but actually have a moment to think "wow I think I can go faster" and make the pass.

I hung with the lead group for about half the race and then with a few well timed attacked by the eventual podium I was dispatched into "the 5 second gap Purgatory". I went back and forth with a few guys who have historically crushed me, eventually ceding the positions but I felt
really good with my 12th place finish.

The really crazy thing is that for the first time in, we'll, ever, the 123 and 234 did the same number of laps (5) so it was really easy to compare lap times and play the endless and ultimately useless game of "what if". Turns out my 12th place in the 234 would have managed me 13th place in the 123, one spot ahead of a dude who's been kicking my ass for over a decade. So, yea, I probably made the wrong decision doing the early race in the scorching heat with a bunch of elite sandbaggers LOL.

Onward and onward!