This Wednesday morning cyclocross practice thing isn't going so well. Last week it was just me and Haglund. Steve was in Kansas for a bar mitzvah or a quinceañera or something. Neither one of us felt like riding hard so we skipped the practice part of things and just went for a lazy spin.
The Wednesday before that, I woke up to a cold windy morning so I laid on the couch in the fetal position, taking sips of coffee, and watching the morning news as Steve was busy trying to track down the rat(s) who broke into his garage and jacked his MTB and PowerTap wheel. Meanwhile, the guy who is not currently racing, but is the only one to have religiously shown up to "cross practice" week after week, rode alone. That would be Haglund. He wins by default.
Tomorrow morning I'm going to turn over a new leaf and actually practice my dismounts, remounts, accelerating out of corners, etc., etc.
I'm thinking one of the reasons why I can't buy a top-ten finish at a cross race may have something to do with my lack of practice. That and the fact that 15 minutes in, I stop caring. The race in Bakersfield this weekend was no different. It had all the potential to be a good race for me – with its mountain bike-like descents, loose sandy corners, and general hilly lay-out. But I failed to get clipped in at the start and played catch up for the first couple of laps before I just stopped caring. At that point I rode around for 45 minutes trying to look pretty and not get lapped. Mission accomplished.