Set Yourself Up. To Fail.

I like to set unreasonable goals for myself.

In doggy classes they call this, “setting your dog up for failure.”

For example:

My wife will not take the dogs off leash in a busy parking lot. She will wait until the dogs are in the car and then unleash them.

I, on the other hand, will unleash them 50 yards before reaching the car to see if they will go to the car like I want. Inevitably, they do not, and I end up spending an hour trying to get the dogs into the car.

I can’t explain why I do this. Like Richard Sachs says, “It’s simple. But not easy.”

Is it?

For days leading up to Gloucester, I told everyone I was going to win.

To be more specific, I said things like, “I am going to win Gloucester.”

As the race drew near. er. I said things like, “I think I can win.”

Then, “Definitely a podium.”

Finally, on the eve of the big weekend, when Stu Thorne asked me what we were looking at for results from me I offered, “Top 5?”

Yes, with a question mark.

Saturday morning, I awoke to rain. Christian Heule had told me at the Cannondale p/b CyclocrossWorld.com team launch the night before that I would need mud.

“For a rider like you, who has no acceleration, you need mud. You have only one speed, so mud, for you, is good.”

Who did this guy think he was?

Six-time Swiss National Champ, that’s who.

Whatevs, yo.

I took three more hours than I intended to get ready Saturday morning, but luckily the race was 12 miles from my home.

12 miles that take 30 minutes, but who’s counting?

Upon arriving at the event, I saw the ridiculously awesome CyclocrossWorld Grassroots team area Chris Ragusa will be setting up at all the Verge Events, parked right next to my teammates Tim, Jamey, Nicole, Christian, and Kaitie. It was good that we all were so close. They would be asking me a lot of questions about tire selection and pressure.

Nice shirt.

We had a freaking pressure washer. Translation: Pre-ride the muddy course, wash your bike in 2 minutes, start with a clean bike.

And Chris has one of those air pumps that looks like a cordless drill with a digital reading. I kept deflating and inflating my tires to 26.5 pounds.

Because I could.

I think I actually ended up going with 26 pounds rear and 24 pounds front on Dugast Rhinos.

I warmed up on a trainer. I know. I know.

Soon enough, it was time to race, but I had to give my teammate a hug before I took to the line.

Me: I’m so nervous! Tim: You’ll do great, Chan!

Everyone says I’m fat, but I see a rib.

The officials did the call-ups and I was second row. But there was an open spot in the first row.

So I took it.

On the front line it was me and a lot of teenagers. I begged them to take it easy on me.

They ignored me.

The whistle blew and we were off.

It started fast, but I think I am getting used to this. At some point I will just learn that the youngsters can, in fact, maintain that speed, and I might not ever see them again during the race.

I think I settled in somewhere around 6th place heading into the dirt, which then led to some oddly spaced stairs near the beer garden. As we ran the steps I heard some comments from the crowd. One of which was, “You’re the first person who is old enough to drink beer!”

Honestly, everything was happening so fast, I don’t even know what happened for the first two laps. I know we got off our bikes four times - run up, stairs, barriers, flyover. Ouch.

The first real memory I have from the race is finishing lap two and seeing the lap cards read “4.” I thought to myself, “How is that right? I don’t think I can make it another four laps?”

I thought about quitting, as I always do, but then someone told me I was in 5th place. I had never finished higher than 6th in a Verge Series race. It was my time to shine.

Up front, Nate Morse and Peter Goguen were flying.

Then it was Brendan McCormack, one of the 300 McCormacks that are attending cyclocross races now, leading Curtis White.

I was haunted by Hot Tubes Juniors 20 years ago. And one of them was a McCormack. Go figure.

I was somewhere behind these guys, crying for my Mommy.

Early into lap 3, I saw Nate riding very slowly. Turns out he went down when he hit an unmarked rock that threw him into the only gravel on the course.

When I caught up to him, he said, “Owwwwwwwww. I’ve never been in so much pain. I think I might cry.”

I have to be honest, for a second, only a brief one, I thought, “Maybe I can beat him now.”

I snapped out of it and told him he was fine. “Get back up there,” I said.

Crybaby.

So he took off again and left me fending for my life against Brendan McCormack, Curtis White, and another junior phenom from North Carolina, Chase Dickens.

Look at them, they are everywhere.

To set the current situation, at the end of lap 3, with three laps remaining, it was Juniors in 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 6th. I was in 5th. Barely.

Curtis White had a mechanical.

Brendan McCormack needs to work on his bike-run-bike transitions, so I was able to gap him at the flyover.

Meanwhile, Steven Hopengarten was upholding his reputation as the host of the Party at the Back of the race.

Hi Ryan! Hi Steven!

I spent another 1.5 laps trying not to die. Chase Dickens and I seemed pretty evenly matched and Curtis White kept having mechanicals, dropping back, and then fighting his way back.

How do you do that?

With one lap left, the adrenaline finally appeared to have worn off for Nate and he dropped back through us. He was making weird noises, but I assumed he would be fine.

In retrospect, I was probably thinking about as clearly as a mountaineer at 25,000 feet above sea level.

Not that clear.

Or it could have been the realization that I, for the first time in Verge Series history, had a chance to finish in second place and I would not be letting some blood and tears of a 16 year old get in the way of this dream being realized. Not now. Not never.

Or it could be that I hate my teammate and just want him to fail.

That’s probably not true. Or is it, Nate?

Up ahead, Peter Goguen had held a ridiculous gap over the rest of us, and the win was his.

Slow down, please.

Coming through the last few winding stretches of the course, I sat behind Curtis and Chase. I was fairly certain I would be able to come around the two of them on the pavement, but I had underestimated these little savages in the past, so I really had no idea what to expect.

We would never really find out, though, as Curtis and Chase tangled on the second to last corner in the sand pit. Only Chase went down and I stopped short of a collision with Chase.

We watched Curtis ride away and Chase expressed some unhappiness with Curtis’ chosen line.

I just wanted this all to be over because I was in a considerable amount of pain from being smashed over the head for 50 minutes by 5 juniors, so I had no real reaction to anything.

I led Chase to the pavement and saw that Curtis may have actually been beatable, so I sprinted as hard as my failing legs would allow.

We didn’t catch Curtis, but I managed to hold off the pride of the south.

Photo: Wil Mathews

3rd place. A monument of sorts.

I was the #weenar of the Cat 3s, but let’s be honest. Races within races are for the weak.

They called the wrong names for the 2nd and 3rd placed Cat 3s, who were nowhere to be seen, so I got the podium all to myself.

To some this might be awkward. Not to me.

Would a win on day 2 of the GP Gloucester be possible?

Not Much to Report.

Two things:

1. I rode my bike for almost four hours on Saturday. I think this was the longest ride I’ve done since the Ride on Washington. Yeah, that’s a link to my own blog. Meh. I don’t even know when that ride was, but I remember being cold and my knee hurting.

2. My saddle was pointing up a little on Saturday. But I don’t even care anymore. What difference does it make, you know? Either way, we have some problems here.

3. The CrossResults Race Predictor is playing games with my mind.

I really appreciate this, Colin Reuter, but it’s probably not true. There is a glitch in your matrix, dawwwwwwg.

4. The CrossResults Race Predictor is playing games with my mind.


I really appreciate this, Colin Reuter, but it’s probably not true. There is a glitch in your matrix, dawwwwwwg. And how is Toby Wells still a Cat 3? CHEATER.

To be honest, I’m just glad I made it into the Gloucester Races, considering they are 10 miles from my house. Thanks to a parent of a new teammate (moron this later), I got an email to my iPhone 3G at 2:01 ET that 91 of 125 slots were filled since the 12:00PM registration opening.

That’s ridiculous. ly good for the sport.

Until I have nothing else to write…keep the meddle to the petal. No idea.


If I were this donkey, I might be asking, “I’m the jackass?”