Wednesday, 18 November 2015

18/11/2015

Commute:
I've been moaning about not cornering well a bunch recently, and the other day suggested a return to riding on dirt might be the answer. Today's commute, featuring some sneaky inner city dirt on my CX bike highlighted the issue, I've become a passenger to, rather than the driver of turns

D: 25.3km
A: 103m

St Kilda East - HCC Crits - St Kilda East:
The transformation to amazing cornerer didn't happen straight away, I still lost ground on the bottom corner at tonight's race, but I was at the very least leaning my bike in line with my body, rather than leaving it hanging out (more) upright.

While I was thinking about bike position, I completely futzed bunch position, and got caught behind a some spent riders and a rapidly opening gap. I was feeling calm about the race, taking the odd place here or there, losing one or two there and here... the standard bike race washing machine. Around the 10-12 minute mark I saw big Mat Gray coming backwards, I put out the hand of god, confident I'd he'd roll onto the wheel, and I'd have a sweet sit. What actually happened was Mat saw Mason going backwards, gave him the hand of god, I got boxed behind them both, and a big gap opened up.

"Shit."

I figured a lap or two would see us make contact again, especially after DK rolled around me along the bottom straight. It wasn't to be though, we steadily ate into the gap, and got close a couple of times, but just never quite found the safety of a draft.

My quick count of power/altitude spikes suggests we busted ourselves for 9 laps trying to make it happen, before this conversation happened with a C grade marshal.

CGM: "A grade coming through."
NR: "Actually mate, I'm not so sure about that."

23 minutes of racing and I feel hollow physically and detached mentally.

Strava link.

D: 36.9km
A: 337m

PMPW: 86kg

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