I did something last week I haven’t done in a while. I took the week off. No cycling. No running. However, concerned that I might have a nervous break-down from going cold turkey, I did sport some tall-girl socks a few times over the weekend. Just a couple of pairs from last year’s collection that I’m happy to say did receive a few compliments. Sometimes it’s not about the bike.
Hopefully, my little breather won’t hurt the momentum that had started to build in September and in to the first weekend of October. At the first Colorado Cup race at Frisco on October 1st, I somehow managed to get myself into 5th place in my division. A feat that was a super pleasant surprise and one that I attribute to these fantastic red and whites socks with a skull and cross bones on the back.
Maybe just a little part of me missed racing this past weekend in Fort Collins at the Exergy U.S Grandprix Cyclocross. But a larger part of me was relieved that I wasn’t racing in classic cyclocross conditions — 40 degrees and raining. Perhaps local Colorado racer C. Case said it best when he posted “40 degrees + Rain + 3% body fat + lycra = uncontrollable, unstoppable, irreversible shivering. Aka cyclocross.”
But certainly the next best thing to racing ‘cross is spectating. At least in theory. There’s food, decent beer and assorted vendors. It’s like a Renaissance festival, but instead of jousting and fair maidens there’s tough men and women, bikes and mud. Beautiful.
So with parents in tow I went out to be a cycling groupie and cheer on Georgia Gould, Katarina Nash and the rest of gals. It was sleeting when we got there. My mom said she would stay in the car. My dad followed me skeptically from the warm car into the rain, and we walked and slid through the mud in search of Georgia Gould and the Luna camp. Halfway across the field we heard the race announcer repeatedly call for the medic. Man down. And then, probably the only racer my father would have known besides me, rolled towards us on a stretcher. The son-in-law of my parents’ close friends. Some of us know him as Boups.
Boups smiled and waved at us Queen Elizabeth style from the stretcher. He seemed ok but with maybe just a few tweety birds still flying around his head. My father snorted clearly thinking ‘cross was not so much a sport but more of a perversion.
Long story short. Boups was ok — his bike not so much. I found Georgia, and her mom took our picture. It continued to rain — actually it poured. The women’s race started. I rang my cowbell like a madwoman yelling “Go Georgia! Go @muddylegs!” And Team Luna ended up 1st and 3rd. And my week off the bike came to a pleasant end.
Now, what socks should I wear to race in this weekend?
Cyclocross Must Haves: The marvelous rubber boots that Georgia Gould has on in this Cycling Dirt video. This Rapha umbrella that I almost managed to purchase until the Tall Southern Guy heard the price and gave me the stink eye.
Cycling photos courtesy of Mountain Moon Photography.