Antoine Demoitie 1990-2016

You Don't Need An Accountant To Tell You How Poor You Are.

Your mates, heart, head, legs and lungs can do that for you.
It's that time of year again when the books have to be in, and mine seem to say that I'm making a loss.
The accountant wants to know where all that profit I made last year has gone.
According to the books I had a pretty good road and circuit season.  They also show that I invested in trips to Belgium and the Pyrenees. And finally the accountant is querying the balance between the start and end of my cross season.

Truth is I got a bit tired, tired of having to get up early every day of the week. So I needed a break and had to do something different.
Problem is the five month long cross season has eaten away at my profits. Fear of being tired for a weekends racing has meant something like just two long rides in six months. Getting dropped on a climb you lead up last year tells you all you need to know.

So the first thing I did when I got this news was to act like a kid and say #### it, done this long enough so #### it. I've won races and there's no way that's ever going to happen again so double #### it.
Then I went to my room and spent some time reflecting on my attitude and realized that actually I did want to keep on doing this. The problem is that between getting dropped and deciding I did want to race again in 2016, I'd developed a taste for late nights dancing to bands in places frequented by ladies with tattoos that drink whiskey and dance. Which, by the way is still better than freezing your nuts off at 8am on a fast 100 with a load of blokes.
Still I wanted to race.
The bathroom scales show me at 68kg so not too shabby. The dancing has it appears kept the weight at bay. My core seems to be stronger, again the dancing? But my legs can only just about ride me out of Leighton Buzzard! Plus they're hairy for the first time in years. I can't shave them yet. That would be like writing a cheque your legs couldn't cash, and we know how bad the books look already.

The second problem is that I seem to have been a little casual about checking race dates. Thinking two months is enough time to salvage something for that very first race. So when exactly is that race that's about two months away......ah in a months time.

How I want Sunday to be

How it'll probably be!

Okay.
Right it'll have to be the club fast rides, I'm going to get dropped. I'll definitely grumble like ####. And it WILL hurt, but I need that investment right now.
I've just looked at the GCN video telling people how to deal with getting dropped it's that bad.
But it's cards on the table time.
And you can't cook the books. Well you can.
So I meet the board this Sunday, the truth will out.
   

All Quiet On The Home Front.....For Now.

Nothing says Spring like Belgium & cobbles

This is bloody great. Weekends in not worrying about tomorrows race, only what coffee to have or pants to put on.
A chance to clean machines and inspect the damage accumulated over the year. And boy has some been accumulated! Got a nice big list, cables, cassettes, chain rings, pads, chains, bar tape, wheels, tyres, even a new groupset.
The year is planned already, so each bike gets set up accordingly.
The race bike gets the most attention. Stripped and cleaned. Then to have the carbon race wheels fitted, new tubs glued on and a set of yellow Swisstops added before being put away ready to race.
The training bike gets some upgrades especially a set of decent wheels so it can be press ganged into racing duties in the foulest of weather. The thought of my dollar dollar Lightweights grinding away in the wet makes me wince.
The crosser gets all new running gear. I'm sticking with canti's, but moving over to 1X and tubulars.
The mountain bike gets some long overdue attention as it might be my holiday bike this year if we go to the Alps as planned.
Finally the old old Claud, new tyres and cotton bar tape to carry this aging hipster to work!

So I pretty well have about three months where I can do what I want. Of course all the time I'm aware I need to be ready to race come late Spring.
Though right now I can afford to mix it up. Sundays are the cycling mainstay and still a bit fast, but always ridden. I'm getting off road, it makes a nice change to stuff everything in the camelback and just head off out, sometimes I stop and just sit under a tree. The turbo is a consistent in my cycling, and yes every week I leap on it. But the pressure is off and everything now seems so much easier? 

So until I pin a number on later this year I can pretty well do as I want, and that is such a relief that I have to wonder why I do the hard stuff at all.
A ride I will do is the Rapha Hell Of The North (London), I pretty well always do this barring a once a decade foray onto the Hell Of The North Cotswolds.
Then there's the clubs very own 'special' rides
Perhaps I might grab a final Chilterns Classic reliability ride. Whatever, there's nearly always a ride you can jump on. And often they're a freebie.
And Belgium this time of year shouldn't be missed,  another outing to ride the Gent-Wevelgem would go down a treat.

So for now it's time to kick back and get ready to crank it up. #wintermilessummersmiles

Central CXL Round 12 Welwyn The Final Round

The day goes shit shaped from the start!

Miles my racing partner and traveling companion call's to say the car won't start. Or tries to call as I have no mobile, the message gets through via Facebook just as Ross rolls onto my drive. My car is hurriedly pressganged into the team car, and two bikes go in the back before we set off to collect Miles. At Mile's place the car is blocking the way, and it won't move because the handbrake is electronic and won't release. Technology is failing today. We faff and don't get anywhere. We finally set off when we were meant to be there.
Luckily the journey there is an uneventful one.

We arrive at Welwyn to a dry windswept circuit over looking a lake. Windswept putting it mildly. The flags won't stay up, tape is blowing fully across the course, gazebo's are failing, there isn't an erection left standing!

We pour out of the car into the wind, eager for some reason to get well versed with this course. My day doesn't get any better. All season long I've been racing on general purpose tyres, but for today I've fitted brand new mud tyres because the forecast was so bad. Now I have super grip on a drying plasticine course when semi slicks would have done. I set them to sub 20 psi so they don't dig in.
Other than that the course seems fine. The strong wind is in your face on the descents, though I don't think that was down to careful planning. Therefore the climbs are wind assisted. Other than that it's classic CX.
I set off for a practice lap, and follow it up with two loops of the courses perimeter. After that I spend some time gassing with guys I might not see until next season. Though it's not long before one of them points out that my race is lining up to go. I race over to find I've lost my place on the grid and have to start right at the back.
It's right there and then that I loose the plot and any thoughts of doing well. The whistle goes and I tear off like number twos off a polished shovel.  I pass loads within metres, and think blimey I've done well. Then the inevitable happens, I shut down tired from the effort and have to go into limp mode to recover. Darren passes.....Barry passes, Barry literally cruises by. I've blown a gasket on the first lap, and I can't even limit the damage.
You can read it anywhere.
'PACE WINS THE RACE'
I've done this on three occasions out of the eleven races I've done this season and it's always had the same result.  Whilst some like a fast start, I need to just be there and kick in at about thirty minutes.
Halfway through I still had a stitch so couldn't even floor it on the flats. By now the hills were more welcome than the straights where I had absolutely no power.
I had also left my Buff on and was boiling because of it, I was really ####ing up today.

By now I was just holding on for points, Miles could come past at any time and I'd have nothing.
I don't know if I picked up a bit on the last lap, but I started racing on the tops and instantly felt better. Halfway through the last lap I wanted it to go on for another twenty minutes to see if |I could get back on, but that wasn't going to happen.
Darren took honours, followed by Barry. Then yours truly with Miles coming in fourth and Mike fifth.
I rolled back to the car wondering how on earth I could hold back the guys next year when I'd be pushing 57. My strength was going rapidly. I still could muster speed, and handling wasn't an issue, but strength when I needed it most, as in now when the going was hard wasn't there.
The years always throw up a new challenge. Since my late forties I've noticed strength and speed drop off in three year blocks, and it seems now I'm loosing another block of ability. I have coping methods in place, but it'll remain to be seen if they work.
But before we say goodbye to everyone for another year we have Ross going in the final race of the day and entire season.
Ross has a good start, pretty damn good actually. However our good intentions cheering him on from the side lines seem to make him write a cheque his legs can't cash ! And so he begins an epic battle on a tough course. There are a lot of London League guys out there today, and that's forced the pace. Still Ross rides a clean well paced race to finish well.

Wout van Aert

Zolder is coming

Central CXL Round 14 Kettering Cross

Today should have been the final race of the season, a day of racing followed by celebrations in the Black Lion afterwards for all those that had raced at some point this season. I even had the cigars ready.
However.....the cancelled round 12 had been re scheduled to February 6th, so it was now sort of business as usual, so the booze goes back into the cupboard.
We'd all seen the snowy lap video, but you couldn't help but notice it was warming up. Snow covered courses that then thaw can be the worst type, look at Milton Keynes last week. Whatever we were to face, it wasn't going to be as bad as the previous week. This was actually some small comfort!
A small band of us arrived at Kettering, actually the smallest. Ross the only senior. Mike, Barry, Miles and myself all 50 plus vets, and not a single 40 plus vet.
Upon arrival we walked the course, it had a familiar feel, sort of Woburn'esque. I really liked what I saw and couldn't wait to get going.
After walking the course we went out for a practice, what a course. Even 'the hill' that people said you wouldn't get up was cleared, would it still be clearable after the Novices then younger vets had raced it? So that, I thought was the worst of it, sadly it wasn't.  Call it the home straight or whatever, there was this long section with only the most gentle of inclines, if that, it seemed to defy traction.  I was sweating cobs riding it and thought that if Darren was here I'd be in trouble.

Pre race practice on the hill

We went back to the vehicle to clear our bikes and continue our warmup on the tarmac.
It was bloody freezing in the open, and the skies had definitely darkened. I needed to get underway.
The whistle called us up to the start area, we were a very small field which seemed to be the theme of the day. However grid position banter was high, typical of late season races when we've all turned in our quota of counting races. On top of that the Rainbow jersey had been sent to the back for being a naughty boy, no special treatment in cross. Rules is rules.
I traipse through the quagmire to take my start position and luckily my rear wheel is on a concrete path so all good for a fast getaway. Miles behind me can't quite squeeze onto the precious firm surface. Such a shame.
We get sent off pretty quick and I get a great start, already past some better riders when we're out, heading downhill before turning into the base of the main climb. I overcook it, far too much speed and I slide right instead of heading left and slap into the thorniest of trees. For a second I think I'll be stuck here all race pinned down by the thorns, Bugger it, I just rip myself out I'm too zoned out to feel the pain they leave in my legs, arms, back and neck. As I panic to get going again Miles passes me, I shoulder the bike and run the hill in pursuit of him. I watch him remount and I do the same, only I'm still in a descending gear, the effort of hauling that gear up the hill nearly makes my lungs burst.
Miles is now in front. My lungs are burning and I'm straining to loosen my helmets chin strap just to let in more oxygen. My priority is to not lose sight of him. As well as not to fall off or break anything. It's race umber nine for me, and I just need to finish to qualify in the overall rankings. I settle in to follow, but every now and then Miles pulls away. It really hurts to keep up, but I can see that the 'in racing' is helping us to cover ground quickly, as we're closing in on riders up ahead.
Miles is making some good line choices, which I follow and it helps. I also go full tilt on the descents feeling pretty certain it won't hurt too much if I get it wrong.
It's not until we reach the hurdles that mark the start of the dreaded anti traction section that we part company. Miles follows in the wheels of one of the top lady racers, I opt for the other side of the track and I just watch them both pull away. I cross to their side, but almost come to a standstill doing so in deep mud that separates us. At that point it looks like it's all over. Miles is the farthest ahead he's been all race.
At the end of this dreaded section the track funnels into a narrow path, and becomes extremely tough to ride. I'd already decided in practice that I'd run this to save my bike and legs. Miles has opted to ride it, which he does, but it's clear it was hard work for him. So I close in again, the running has paid off.
We're on another lap and I'm now right on he's wheel. Miles is riding well, but I'm feeling slightly better and mark him turn for turn.

One thing going through my head

There's not much in it as we come near to completing another lap. We jump the hurdles, Miles to the left me to the right. Miles choses the line that has served him well all race, I opt for the last remaining green stuff on the other side. Finally I find the grip on the section that has eluded me all race long. I move past Miles taking the lead for the first time since the start.
We'd both heard the bell so expected to have one more lap once we'd completed this one. However on this section just before it funnels we are lapped by the solo race leader with not much more than a hundred meters to go.
I look down the course to see him go under the flag. This meant the race was over, we'd not get that extra lap.

Metres to go and it doesn't get any closer

I hit the funnel running with Miles opting to ride, and right on my heels.  I jump on as the course opens up and to my delight both feet clip in straight away....no fuss. I just have to power up and cross the line, if Miles passed me then so be it, I just give it my best and take the flag inches ahead.
Barry follows in some time later, with Mike completing the foursome.

Poor Ross was up next in seniors, there were only fifteen racers in this event. All of them good and on a tough course. I think it was hard for him out there, but finishing this punishing course would bag him a lot of points, wiping out those bad races.
We cheered him on from various places. I told him that he wasn't feeling weak, it was the course that was feeling tough. It was a brave almost solo effort, that saw him bag a place even in the dying metres.

Another good show by all LBRCC riders. And it was announced that we'd be hosting a round next year? I only mentioned it, looks like the committee have another job on their hands.