My First Pro Race: Mellow Johnny's Classic 2010
The highest level of domestic racing takes place on the US Pro XCT circuit. Here guys toe the line from countries like Mexico, Canada, Australia, and the US. The top guys are some of the fastest in the world and it is a feat to start with them and not get lapped.
Many people think national level races are simply dirt roads with some freshly cut singletrack connecting them. Those ideas are normally elevated knowing that one of the race courses would be held on the ranch of a seven-time Tour de France winner. I would challenge anyone who thinks like that to actually get out there and see what it was all about. The Mellow Johnny's course was one of the most technical trails I have been on, and having lived in the locales of Michaux State Forest and Lehigh University, I am no stranger to technical trails. Add in intense southern 95 degree heat, no shade, and thick clouds of dust, I completed the most difficult XC race I ever started.
We got to the race at 1pm as Aaron and I got ready for our 2pm start. We got dressed and went to the start area to see the rest of the 60 some pro field lining up. It was then that we found out our start time was 1:15 and we would start the race with no warm-up and food still in our stomachs. I was called up 5th row by some lucky chance and Aaron was 2 rows up. Jen gave us some cold wet towels to put on our necks for the 6 minutes we stood there and thought about how much it would hurt to race with no warm-up.
The gun went off and we followed a massive cloud of dust into the start loop. I found a hole and went for it as I moved somewhere in the mid 20s. I was happy to have good legs and kept the hammer down. I punched every climb and railed each descent. Every time I would slow, I could hear tires in the grass behind me; every second you waste someone is ready to pass you. Against my better judgement, I kept the power down, and I could see Aaron only a few guys up.
You can see where this is going...
About 3/4 way through the first 8 mile lap I blew up. At first, I thought I could salvage it, and slowed down. I got passed, and passed, and passed. I went into damage control by lap 2 and coasted every chance I could hoping to somehow get back the good sensations I had and inkling of in the beginning. About a mile into lap 2 I had polished off my second bottle and scoured the ground for a dropped bottle by some less fortunate chap. Twenty minutes later I found one baking in the sun half full and sucked down the 120 degree water. It tasted like plastic.
Starting lap 3 I had just about lost hope. I took 2 fresh bottles this time and drank them both by halfway. I pretty much knew I would not feel good anymore and I could hear the lead moto somewhere behind me. I hated life, and in my terrible state of mind and body I slowed down in hopes of it catching me and getting pulled. I cleared the rock sections this time, and there were a few spectators left watching. Took the rock jump line because it was awesome and skidded a few turns when I had the energy. Approaching the finish I sat up and was ready to stop, but came through and was not told my day was over and I sucked. They looked at me and cheered and said one more.
Planning to pull the plug, I came to the feed zone and grabbed 3 bottles and a cold towel from Jen and Gunnar. I poured a bottle on my head and put the cold towel on my neck. It felt so good I kept going for a little, and then, like Forrest Gump, I figured I had gone this far so I might as well finish. Quarter through the last lap I came up on a familiar guy but an unfamiliar sight as I inched up on Aaron on one of the hairy descents. I tried to pass on some of the will to survive that I had come across, but kept moving thinking of that cold Dr. Pepper waiting for me. Made a few more passes that lap after the spectators had packed up and left. I crossed the line and someone took my bike while someone else helped me to a tent and another cold towel. I sat for about 20 minutes and tried to get my bearings before making it over to the results.
It was then that I realized a bad day is a hard day, but 34th in a UCI Pro race is also 34th in a UCI Pro race.
-Matt
We got to the race at 1pm as Aaron and I got ready for our 2pm start. We got dressed and went to the start area to see the rest of the 60 some pro field lining up. It was then that we found out our start time was 1:15 and we would start the race with no warm-up and food still in our stomachs. I was called up 5th row by some lucky chance and Aaron was 2 rows up. Jen gave us some cold wet towels to put on our necks for the 6 minutes we stood there and thought about how much it would hurt to race with no warm-up.
The gun went off and we followed a massive cloud of dust into the start loop. I found a hole and went for it as I moved somewhere in the mid 20s. I was happy to have good legs and kept the hammer down. I punched every climb and railed each descent. Every time I would slow, I could hear tires in the grass behind me; every second you waste someone is ready to pass you. Against my better judgement, I kept the power down, and I could see Aaron only a few guys up.
You can see where this is going...
About 3/4 way through the first 8 mile lap I blew up. At first, I thought I could salvage it, and slowed down. I got passed, and passed, and passed. I went into damage control by lap 2 and coasted every chance I could hoping to somehow get back the good sensations I had and inkling of in the beginning. About a mile into lap 2 I had polished off my second bottle and scoured the ground for a dropped bottle by some less fortunate chap. Twenty minutes later I found one baking in the sun half full and sucked down the 120 degree water. It tasted like plastic.
Starting lap 3 I had just about lost hope. I took 2 fresh bottles this time and drank them both by halfway. I pretty much knew I would not feel good anymore and I could hear the lead moto somewhere behind me. I hated life, and in my terrible state of mind and body I slowed down in hopes of it catching me and getting pulled. I cleared the rock sections this time, and there were a few spectators left watching. Took the rock jump line because it was awesome and skidded a few turns when I had the energy. Approaching the finish I sat up and was ready to stop, but came through and was not told my day was over and I sucked. They looked at me and cheered and said one more.
Planning to pull the plug, I came to the feed zone and grabbed 3 bottles and a cold towel from Jen and Gunnar. I poured a bottle on my head and put the cold towel on my neck. It felt so good I kept going for a little, and then, like Forrest Gump, I figured I had gone this far so I might as well finish. Quarter through the last lap I came up on a familiar guy but an unfamiliar sight as I inched up on Aaron on one of the hairy descents. I tried to pass on some of the will to survive that I had come across, but kept moving thinking of that cold Dr. Pepper waiting for me. Made a few more passes that lap after the spectators had packed up and left. I crossed the line and someone took my bike while someone else helped me to a tent and another cold towel. I sat for about 20 minutes and tried to get my bearings before making it over to the results.
It was then that I realized a bad day is a hard day, but 34th in a UCI Pro race is also 34th in a UCI Pro race.
-Matt
posted by Giant Mid-Atlantic Off-Road Team at
4:39 PM
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