My main focus for the year, the Convict100
(nee Dirtworks100), has come and gone, fortunately without incident, although
whilst I was swabbing myself down post-finish the sound and sight of a chopper
passing overhead did make me nervous for the rest of the Soggies still out
there. Ham had done the course a few
times previously – it would simply be a long grind for him given his
preparation, but Mikey and Kev would be seeing the course for the first
time. Mike I also wasn’t too concerned
about, as he has enough experience under the belt to know what he can/can’t go
over/down, although the 100 is a considerable step up from the 50.
Kev, however, has only just crossed to the
dark side, so for him this was more than just dipping toes in the water. But he had just completed a skills course the
weekend before, so what could possibly go wrong? Plenty, in my mind's eye. Although I had given my best prognosis of
what to expect, every time I do this race (6th time now) I am
shocked by the roughness and frequency of the rocky sectors – too many to
sensibly catalogue. At least he had the
right machine – a 29er Anthem should get him through the course provided he
didn’t panic, stayed loose and let the thing have its way.
I was actually in pretty good condition
this year; lots of kms under the belt (6000), pretty fit, correct weight, and,
more importantly, healthy. Had a consistent
buildup of events; 3peaks, Mont24, and (dare I mention it) B2B. The last couple of years I’ve managed to shave
the 5 hr mark (to the winners 4), finishing in the 50th-60th
bracket overall (of 600+), and 10th (both years) in the 40-50 year
age bracket. I knew that from past
experience I’d have to find another ~20-30 min to step up to the age category
podium. Given that in past editions I
have been pretty balls-out just nailing 5 hours, this was going to be no mean
feat. Additionally, of the 9 who beat me
last year, 8 had re-entered, and a gun from the ACT (Mr McAvoy) who is the
world 24solo champion in my age group had also entered for the first time.
Come race day word was that the track was
in good condition. Fast, but with deep
pools. The track was indeed quick; firm
and mostly dry, with not too many clay bits, but with just enough moisture to
instill texture into the numerous sand traps.
Additionally, approx. 0.5 km of the first big descent of the day had
been graded – this bit used to be gnarly to the extent that I’ve been over the
bars there before. But fast doesn’t mean
void of ob-stacles. The rest of the thing seemed just as unforgiving as
ever.
The last few years I’ve always gone hard at
the start in an attempt to hold the leaders but blown badly by halfway, coupled
with all sorts of lower back issues.
This year I’d done some running and core work in preparation, and
planned to go a little easier for the first ¼.
I started mid-field in the first wave – keeping my nose out of the wind
along the flats till the first main climb of the day. I was keen to ride the entire thing this
year, but the approach speeds were such that a few hundred meters in I started
to blow and unclipped, content to walk for another few min, before riding out
the rest of the climb at a more manageable pace. [NB:
Felix and Ben, who did the 50 this year, both cleaned the climb, so well
done!]. With the climb dispatched, I
started the process of attaining a comfortable rhythm, with thoughts of
overhauling the 100+ that had streamed ahead of me during the climb. I knew I was behind where I was for the last
few years but didn’t panic, and waited for the condensation to clear from my
goggles, and for the legs to tell me they were ready to go harder, which they
eventually did. I rode the 2nd
quarter (= rock garden sector #1) much better than I have before, pulling back
riders, one by one, and went through the 50 km split in ~2:14, about 7 min
quicker than I’ve managed before, and 10 min quicker than last year. Most encouraging – no sign of cramp just yet,
although like previous years my lower back had been an issue up until this
point.
I chomped down a cliff bar and ground my
way to the second major sector of rock gardens, getting through without
incident, although I didn’t ride many of the little downhill runs particularly
well, and had to dismount for a couple of the uphill stepped sections. But at least I didn’t crater out like one of
the riders a minute in front of me who was felled in “baby-head alley” towards the
bottom of the first major descent. I
got spat onto the road at the same time as three others, two of which stopped
at the feed. I was again running a
no-stop strategy and should have jumped ahead of the other chap who I allowed
to gain the canoe bridge first. Having
let him on, I should also have given him another 10 meters, as the cavitation from
his presence ~20 m ahead almost undid me.
I kept my eyes on the exit but knew I was running a bad line near the
edge. The guys manning the exit were
encouraging me but with a tone betraying their belief that I was a certainty to
be swimming the rest of it. Somehow I held
on to the edge for the last 1/3rd and exited to considerable
applause. That was close!
With the major ob-stacles accounted for it
was now just a matter of getting to the end as fast as the pistons would
allow. The chap just ahead of me on the
bridge cracked big time on the paddocks before we even re-gained the
tarmac. There was another rider further
ahead who decided not to wait and join forces into the headwind. So the road sector I rode by myself, along
with the second major climb, and the interminable series of pinches that
eventually gain the top of the course.
The odd rider was picked off here and there, but they were now far and
few between, so the finishing order had basically been decided, it was just a
matter of holding position. It was about
here, with all the climbing dispatched with, that I realized the 750 ml bottle
on the frame was not going to get touched after all, so I ditched its contents. The mega-plummet back to earth was fast but
successful – in spite of some nasty sectors on the lower ramps. The dude I caught just before the drop gapped
me by 200m on the descent but I eventually brought him back just before the
second river crossing – where both of us comically keeled over simultaneously in
the sand traps – and again on the other side of the river! This lightened the mood and we worked the
last few km together, grateful that it was nearly over.
I stopped the clock at 4:39. Good enough for 42nd overall, and
5th in the 40-50 year age category (a field here of 240). Now I only need to find another 7 minutes of
speed to gain the podium. However, if
improving is like sliding down an asymptote, maybe it’ll always be just out of
reach. We’ll see what happens next year. Incidentally, 4 riders went under the race
record, the winner by an incredible 10 minutes, to stop the clock at
3:48:11! It was a nervous wait for the
other Soggies to finish, but Ben and Felix informed me that they’d started
together at the tail of the third wave, and come home together they did, all
with smiles, soon to be followed by beer, steak sandwiches and chips. Ham showed great courage to hang with the dudes despite preparation comprising zero kms. Mikey seemed to have enjoyed the course most, reveling particularly in the challenges that each rock garden presented. Ride of the day should go to Kev, IMO who, green as England, had an Oz experience he won't forget in a hurry. I think he was a little shell-shocked at the end and, "not quite sure what to think of it". Once again the weather gods obliged, with
perfect cool conditions for racing and a warm afternoon for the dismantling of tents,
swapping of stories and contemplations of next year. How quickly the mind forgets. Rock Wallaby anyone?
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