DCCX Kalas Classics Series 2015 Round 1: PunchesCross

Long Story Short

• Targeted a Top 75 finish - turns out there was 75 starters.
• Finished 59th
• Lapped near the end of Lap 3.
• Crashed on Lap 4.

Strava

View the ride on Strava DCCX Round 1: PunchesCross B Race 59/75. Only the one crash.
View the course segment Punchestown Lap - Punchestown lap

View the race replay on Strava FlyBy, I've enabled;

• Myself, the star,
• Richard - who finished fifth,
• Barry - to view how close we were after our early skirmish,
• Michael - highest placed Orwell rider.

Multimedia

Alek had his handle bar cam again. It's one of his better videos from an action perspective. He didn't have the greatest of starts but recovers with an impressive number of passes.
Sean Rowe was the photographer on the track. He published more than three hundred and thirty images from across the main events.

Short Story Long

So there I was, I looked at Jay, he looked back at me with is brown eyes. He had no idea what was going on inside my head. We were in McDonalds, the only open place in town, on the main street in Gliwice, Poland. I had not eaten a McDonalds' burger in 2015 (I've had a few BurgerKing and Mcflurrys). Now I was about to eat my second of the day. How did I get here? This is my story...

Build-up

I've had a busy few weeks since the Grange Castle CX race. My bike needed a service. It turns out my rear QR wasn't tight enough, and that was to blame for the gears shifting under load. This caused a broken chain one night when I was training with, among others, the DCCX organiser, Sean.

My car also needed an NCT and only needed a visual re-inspection. Not bad for ten years old. The lowest point was my fourteen year old dog, Kenny, needing to be put down. He was very sick and the vet said that he would have no quality of life. It was strange not to have him greet me as I got home to Galway. He had a great life and was on the verge of reeling back the years this summer, when my other dog, Sam, was in heat. He's buried in the flowerbed, outside my bedroom window, with my previous dog, Lass.

The highest point was experiencing Ireland beat Germany in the Aviva.

I had been working on my weaknesses from the previous race, weak core, run-ups and sprinting out of corners. The latest Thursday night session with Sean was very informative, we were concentrating on riding a U-shaped track, where the first part was downhill and the exit was uphill. I may as well have been using a laser pointer for all the good my front light was. I left the session having learned some things, but a bit disheartened. The next evening I put in a solid hour in the park along the Dodder. I did a lot of these U-shaped off camber corners.

Pre-Race

I woke very early on Sunday morning, I had everything ready to go from the previous day. My only concerns were performance anxiety, eating a bowl of Almond Milk and Maple Syrup Porridge and stretching.

I arrived well before my target of 10am. I used this time to sign on and get my number. This race would be marred by these numbers. The toilets were a bit of a ride away from the course, couple this with getting out of and back into a skinsuit and you have a long time to allocate to a bathroom break.
I ended up doing three laps of the course, on Alek's advice. The first lap, I was very scared of the sharp descents after the dismount points. On the second lap, I took my time to remount before descending them and on the third lap I was very comfortable. I should've paid attention to the surface at the foot of the descents, something I rectify in future.

The grass was longer than Grange Castle, but nothing that troubled the rear derailleur's jockey wheels. The course contained a very bumpy section where the Rushes had been cut. The run-up was grand the first two times, but the third time, I was goosed. I had to stall for a breather as my eyes were rolling up into my skull and my lower back was feeling weak.

I didn't ride the step-up or the first clay ascent in my practice laps. It was possible to ride the clay ascent using the left side of the path, as it wasn't obstructed by a tree root. One of the racers moved some twigs to clear the left side of the step-up, so now it could be ridden. The organisers were baffled as to the identity the assailant, who the media have dubbed "The PunchesCross Lumberjack". Although posters on various internet forums claim to be this mysterious person, no disqualifications have been made. The hunt continues...

Pinning on the number was a disaster, but I got it sorted. I lent my pump to Alek and went to the bathroom before going to the startline to properly sort out the number. There was a large Orwell contingent on the grid, most of us in our new Skinsuits with new club sponsor Scott on them. Scott have been pumping a lot of money back into the sport and it's good to be associated with them. We had a few people making their cross debut too. John tried to banter me about consuming a caffeine gel before the race, but I wasn't having any of it.

I had already decided on 40psi for the tyres. With the course having nettles and other plants, I decided to use leg warmers. I went with my trusty Adidas gloves, that my mother has sown up in a few places, I didn't want a repeat of the chaffing on my hand from the Grange Castle race. I employed an Aldi sleeveless base layer under the skinsuit. There wasn't any pockets, so I was using my saddle bag to hold only my keys. I would have offered to hold other people's keys too, but I had to leave straight after the race.

The Women and B-Racers moved to the grid at the bottom of the hill. The orgaisers told everyone to ensure you had the number on your right shoulder. This caught lots of people off-guard. I was the only person around, when I was getting my number, so I had the time to double check that the guy said "on the right shoulder". The rider in front of me had his number on this back pockets. When the 30-second call was made, I setup my pedal for entry and opted for the 36-32, my position on the grid and the hill dictated that gearing choice. With ten seconds to go, I got onto the saddle and my tippy toe.

Race

Lap 1

I waited for the people in front of me to move. My start wasn't great, I was near the back of the grid and I couldn't keep pace with most of the riders beside me. This wan't a massive problem, as there was a big queue at the first obstical. I slowed to allow the crowd to pass. This allowed the legs to adjust to the effort, as I had been standing around for the previous thirty minutes. As I rode up the other side of the bank, I was back onto the group. I noticed John had a problem, which allowed me to pass him.

A little gap opened in front of me, which I let happen. This allowed me to ride up the first proper vertical ramp. Using the left side, I passed a guy who was clipping in. After that descent it lead in to the second vertical ramp. This was not ridable. I noticed I was dismounting later than my immediate competitors. I used all my David Millar power to fire the bike vertically upwards. My next step was to launch off my ankle. I was at the top with three steps.

I was back on the bike and held position, behind Barry until I attacked him before the first gravel section. Barry passed me again on the run up. There was lots of encouragement from the people on this climb. There was a mother and two kids on the final turn shouting "Go Orwell". Barry put a decent bit of time into me on the climb back to the start finish line.

Lap 2

I could hear Sean on the mic cheering me on. A guy on the first turn cheered Barry on. I was right on his wheel again now. I looked back I was about fourth last. There was a hard-charging John steaming towards us. I stayed behind Barry for a few more turns. John caught up and inquired about how my gels were working out for me. We both passed Barry. With John powering towards the horizon. My next pass was a guy in a blue jersey. He slowed too much going into an off-camber corner and he was slow coming out of it. I had the gears set up before I was on the brakes. I got a better run out of the corner and put the screws to him. This CycloCross is easy. There wasn't much happening for the rest of this lap, except for one really sweet pass I put on a guy.

Lap 3

Sean cheered me again, and I heard the people noting the numbers say "57" as I passed. I looked back on the grass section to see Barry was still within striking distance. My only pass on this lap was Brendan, the really young lad. I was feeling good for the rest of this lap. My only concern was that the drop on the other side of the first clay ramp was becoming more and more loosely packed. I ran fairly wide on it this time round. I got lapped by the men's leader. The top two women passed me too. But I was enjoying it too much to care.

Just before the first dismount point, I spotted a pair of riders. Both were known to me. Richard, looked like he had blown-up after a fantastic first lap. The other was a man I had not seen in a long time, Eamon from my old club, Shannonside in Athlone.

I took the wide line into the dismount to avoid Eamon, and went up the left side of it, I had not taken this side before. As I got to the top and remounted, I balked. I should've paid more attention on my practice laps. There was a pothole at the bottom of the descent in front of me. Me getting flung over the handle bars was a possibility, I steeled myself for this. But I avoided this fate.

I gave Eamon some encouragement as I passed him into the sand-pit, before the rushes section. He reckonised me. I didn't look back, as I was slowly closing in on Richard. Eamon and I traded places twice more, he passed me on the climbs and I passed him on the corners. He finally made a pass that stuck on the climb to the finish. As he soared by, he said "I can still climb though". A reference to when we rode the 115km Croí Lap of Lough Corrib together. He put five minutes into me on the climb out of Maam Cross.

Lap 4

Sean encouraged me more and my number was noted again. My legs turned to jelly as soon as I was on the grass. The only thing keeping me going was Richard, who beat me by four minutes at Grange Castle. I have been assured, by medical experts, that the definition for the way he was looking is; "shot to shit". I was also gaining back the ground I lost to Eamon. My blood was up, I was going to pass these two on the upcoming two ramps. This CycloCross thing is a piece of piss.

Eamon dismounted and ran up the clay ramp. Richard rode up on the left. I followed. Richard was going over the top as I got there. Eamon was remounting on the right. I made the first pass.
The next thing Richard heard was "shcrruck, you fuck, no no no, aaagh, shit". I, like the sisterhood of the Titanic, was resting on the floor. The bike had slid out from underneath me on the loose packed clay at the bottom of the rise. I was lying on my right side. Eamon, powered by gravity (Newton's Invention, not the Space RomCom), was catapulted over the bars as his front wheel hit my left hip.

My thought process was; clear the path, how was Eamon's bike, how was my bike, Barry will pass me. Michelle came down the path. I handed Eamon his bike. He fixed his chain. I though my chain was off, but it had jumped down the cassette.

I exited the tree section, Richard, and my chances of avenging the four minute Grange Castle deficit, were gone. Spurred on my adrenaline I skipped up the next ramp. My legs began to give in on the grassy section, as I noticed my leg warmer had a hole in it.

I really hoped that there wasn't any damage to the skinsuit, or my flesh. I didn't fancy sitting on a Ryanair flight to Krakow missing a chunk of knee skin. It's not everyday I encounter a former world champion and current bronze medalist. Orla passed me on this Rushes section, looking unbelievably pro.

From Sean Rowe

As I approached the run up, I was hoping Sean Rowe would get a picture of me, really dusty and torn leg warmer. I could use it for Tinder. "Luke, 26, Can't grow a beard. Finds rugby to be a seditive. Doesn't prefer to, but when called upon, can get his hands dirty." Anyone who has used Tinder for five minutes will realise that this filters out ninety percent of southside women.

Lap 5

When Eamon didn't pass me on the hill, I felt really guilty. Had I ruined his race and possibly his bike? This nagging guilt, plus the growing fatigue in my legs and lower back, made me glad I had just to get to the finish.

As I approached the clay ascent, my Waterloo, I said "once more into the breach." I took it gingerly going down, and shouted "turn, turn, fucking turn" at the bottom.

Most of the other front runners were passing me now. I kept moving off the racing line to let them through. Alek gave me some encouragement as he came past. As I had been lapped, I didn't have to complete a sixth lap.

Post-Race

I posed for a picture for Sean Rowe, at the finish line. This image didn't not exude the powerful alpha-male magnetism that my Tinder profile required. There was a contingent of Orwell riders, Richard had finished a minute a head of me. Barry was home soon afterwards. I seen Eamon come through and I got his attention. I apologised again for causing him to crash and ruining his race. He reckoned he was about two meters in the air after going over me. I examined my kit on the side that collided with the bike, there was a tyre track. We talked about the race and the club.

Bodies broken, from Sean Rowe

I had to rush home. I had a plane to catch. After completely misjudging where my carpark was and standing at the wrong shuttle bus shelter. Dublin Airport have an answer to Dundrum Cinema's "Display Popcorn". I'm still bitter about the day I walked up to the Ice Cream counter and pointed at the popcorn buckets on the lit up shelf and asked for one, "that's display popcorn".
In the Airport, I stood between McDonalds and an unbranded canteen. The people in the restaurant looked more miserable than the McDonalds patrons, so I went for it. I ate my fist McDonalds burger of 2015. Apart from the space to put chips on top of the patty, I wasn't missing much.
When we arrived in Gliwice, via Krakow, we checked the square for food. There was nothing open, save a few Kebab shops. McDonalds was the only other option. I pointed to the Big Mac and used all my interpretative dance to explain that I didn't want Mayo on the minced cow carcass.

I was a little jealous that I missed the beer, cake and A-race. Although I wouldn't have drank the beer before driving. I really enjoyed the race, the course and the progress I've made. DCCX should be proud of the event they put on.
The results were a bit off, but my times, bar the first lap, were fairly accurate.

I also had the added excitement of the "race within a race", that the Orwell guys had going on. Richard possessing a five minute lead on me in the CX GC. John and Michael tied 1-1 on head-to-head victories. Me getting one over on Barry for his demolition jobs in the 10 and 25 mile time trials in the Club League.

What Was Learned

• I could see what Sean was showing us about the off-camber cornering. Set the gearing for the corner's exit, Off the brakes and lean the bike under you.
• I need to regain my out of the saddle abilities.