Stephen’s view from the Back of the Pack

Q. Why do I race?

Last Sunday I competed in the Gorrick race at Crowthorne, the venue where it all began for them. The organisers will be holding their 20^th anniversary race in November 2011. I calculated this is my 19^th year with them, racing approx 5 times every year. On my racing CV I can count Grundig races, Nationals, Southern XC in all its guises, Bontrager, Big Dog, Dusk to Dawn, numerous enduros, Midlands XC, Thetford, SAMBROA (anybody remember them….my neighbour’s son won the junior title), Land of Nod, Cheddar, Houffalaize, Sea Otter and god knows how many more that I’ve long forgotten.

The key driver that keeps me coming back for more is the physical intensity that racing does to the body. I don’t do practice laps beforehand nowadays. Just make sure that my bike is in tip-top condition as I can’t abide mechanicals. Having reached a high of sixth place finishes, I know I’m not going to win, so am more relaxed at the start nowadays. I do have a good warm-up though, and this is the point, the first lap melee gives you such a rush that is addictive. The instant heart rate climb, lactic build-up, eye-brain-body rapid terrain assessment mixing pedal power with efficient gear selection and minimal braking. Checking for dry lines, grippier off-camber soil, rising over knarly roots (OK then, bumping into and slipping over roots; smoothly rolling (ahem) over drop-offs and powering up climbs (ahem ahem). All these factors brain-process faster than computer speed and whilst seeking advantages over fellow racers. Second lap, and you try to nail those lines, knowing what is coming up. Not too heavy on the brakes, keeping momentum speed to crest the obstacles. Third lap, and you know you are going to get round but how much slower than the previous laps? Urgency to go faster plays on your mind but keeping a smooth flow is key. Intensity increases on the last climb as you focus on spinning the lactic from your calves, leaving a trail on the dirt behind.

The weather plays a part too. Dry summer Plymouth Grundig races with dust hanging in the hot air, seeking the cooling water crossings, compared to the snow and slush and cold of a Brass Monkey around Ash ranges. All add to the challenge of courses, twisty and technical, fast and furious….yet vulnerable to the weather gods.

And the camaraderie. After the Gorrick, just by the finish line I meet a friend I’ve not seen for five years, and pick up a conversation as if it was yesterday. We used to rock climb with a mutual friend who’s now middle aged, married and several pounds heavier and no longer rides. Good job etc but without a smile on his face anymore. Or the SAMBROA winner, no longer a junior, shouts ‘ello Steve’ at another event as we coincidentally arrive to register together. Now a grown man with a rock star girlfriend in California, the clock rolls back in time as we swap notes. A good friend I see every three months on the local bike shop ride. Quick email: are we entering the Big Dog again this year? Immediate response - yes. That’s racing.

Yeah, bike centres are great. Yeah, leisure rides are great. But nothing beats the physical intensity of a race, apart from the emotional intensity of happy relationships formed by a race

Why do you race?