Ever since my implosion in the final miles of the Piney Hills Classic, I had been dreaming about the final round of the season with a pinch of dread. You are only as good as your last race and with that in mind my confidence was questionable. So in many ways Huntsville was to be an important race. I had a comfortable lead in the championship but another bad race could throw it all away. My training program between the two races was also shoddy at best as I had to deal with a stressful relocation to NYC. I managed to squeeze in a few late night laps around Central Park on a fixed gear bike but it was a far cry from the miles I was used to putting in.
Despite having my excuses neatly lined up I won the race anyways.
I arrived in Houston early Saturday morning and headed straight to Huntsville for the pre ride. The course was excellent, and my Trimble machine was in top shape. I only needed to finish within five positions of Jorge Munoz to win the championship. That basically meant he needed a big win for any chance at the crown. I focused on correcting my mistakes at Ruston and mapped out a conservative strategy. Munoz has always proven to start out with a ballistic pace. In Ruston this helped lead to my demise as we battled hard in the early miles. I wasn..t going to fall into this trap again and I had no intention of contesting the top spot as the race got underway.
The majority of the usual contenders were present plus and minus a few. Jason Winkelmann had an outside chance at the title so he also had my attention. Up the short road climb I slotted into second place more the result of a perfectly timed launch than a hard sprint. The Team Aguila rider as predicated wasted no time hitting full throttle. I kept my cool as he rapidly disappeared off the front. Breath, stay steady, patience, these abstract concepts rang in my head as I fought the urge to chase. The entire field strung out in a tight line as I gradually built up the pace, concentrating more on my rhythm than the anxious riders behind me. But taking it ..easy.. in a cross country isn..t really all that easy and the pace was still relatively high. It..s more about staying within the window of sustainable suffering and riding on that thin line for twenty miles while managing to tuck away a little in reserve.
We made it past the first sand pit with the field intact and as we snaked up the first rooty rise Matthew Morgan wiped out behind me (its amazing how much you can see with a trained peripheral vision). With this the field spread out a bit except for Jason Winkelmann who shot past me like I was standing still. His attack was impressive as in one giant leap he rode all the way up to a distant Munoz and took the lead. For a short time they contested the top spot but I soon reeled Winkelmann back and moved into second.
The first lap progressed past the halfway point and Munoz showed no signs of slowing his rapid pace. I was sure he wouldn..t be able to hold up for the duration and began feeling confident at my chances for a win. I was running the smart race and expected to round the next corner to find him up against the wall. There was no way his current pace could hold up was my calculation. But as the race..s mid point neared I realized that the gap was large enough that my pace needed to increase dramatically if the leader was to be caught. Even if his speed faded on the second lap he might just have enough of a cushion to make it stick. I could no longer rely on the hope of his pace slowing. I got the legs, lungs, and heart moving to a higher pitch and began shrinking the time difference.
It wasn..t until I passed a couple of the single speed racers that I realized something was wrong. I felt awkward on the Trimble machine and noticed my horrible pedaling stroke. I looked down and my (maxed out) heart skipped a beat. The seat post had slid way down and suddenly it felt like I was riding a BMX bike. I debated furiously over whether I could afford to stop and fix the problem. Thinking quickly while barreling down the trail I unzipped the saddlebag and grabbed my multi tool. I extended the needed 5 mm and stuck the thing in my jersey pocket just in case.
My race continued on the lowered seat and with the increased pace I actually closed the gap to within a few seconds of Munoz as we approached the feed zone. The faster pace amplified the uncomfortable riding position and my knees started to hurt. Another nine miles in this position was out of the question. The decision was quickly made to risk the repair for the good of the race and with the next flat bit of single track I jumped off the bike, made the fastest seat adjustment possible and took off again. The whole operation was quick but it still allowed Munoz to disappear again, the single speeders to go past, and for the ever-present Winkelmann to be back on my rear wheel.
I rolled through the start finish line and subsequently abandoned my conservative ..take second/win championship.. approach. It was now catch Munoz or blow up trying. I quickly overtook the single speeders again and was motivated further by their words of encouragement. Flying through the corners I also got props from a spectator for these race reports so I was determined to have something good to write about. I began ticking off a time trial like pace and began catching fleeting glimpses of Munoz. He seemingly refused to max out and I was forced to reel him in the painful way. My brakes became strangers as I cornered with high velocity and accelerated hard on the flats. At maximum effort his lead came down and as we hit the long jeep road I utilized the trusty big ring, bridged the final gap and sucked up into the draft. My first attempt at the lead was shot down by some additional mph from Munoz in a brutal dual. The failed move pushed me to the absolute limit but I just barely managed to stay on the right side of the fence. I backed off a bit, got my breathing under control enough to muster up another attack and pushed my way into the lead.
At this point the suffering was hard but I suspected damage had been do to my competitor. Still the anticipated fall off from Munoz failed to materialize. He stayed on my wheel and was particularly strong up the root-laden rises. The lead was defended and attacks were launched but I couldn..t pull away. Through the corners and flats I opened up seconds which were quickly erased every time the trail tilted upwards. With about a half a mile to go we made the sharp right turn and headed towards the steepest climb of the course. Both riders launched full out sprints up the hill. We rode up the hill side-by-side with my wheel slightly in front. The crest of the hill gave way to a short decline in the trail and setup the final push to the line.
Not only is it physically exhausting it is also mentally grueling when a race is decided in the final meters of a race. The trail made one more painful increase in elevation and another round of attacks were launched. I waited for Munoz to sprint and I then sprinted harder. It was an all out blurry vision, foaming at the mouth, lactic acid overloading scramble. I no longer kept my eye on Munoz, the trail or anything else as I willed everything into my legs. Finally, Munoz hit the wall. He had nothing left and I came to the line with a ten second gap.
To celebrate the win and the championship I stopped short of the finish line. I hoisted my light carbon Trimble machine over my head and finished the race. From what I remember the crowd was cheeringly loudly as I stepped across the line. Everything was blurry and after a few more steps I felt my legs give out from exhaustion as I collapsed into the closest thorn bush.
The win was the exclamation point on the championship and gives me the confidence to make the move to expert next season. My race craft and strategy is starting to make sense and if I can continue to make gains in fitness I expect to contest for another championship. Now my biggest obstacle is finding a sponsor to help pay for all the flights back to Texas for the spring.
