This year is my second “season” of regional short course XC “racing” – last year I was usually found propping up the back of the field with the singlespeeders, acting as a mobile chicane for the leaders. So I’d spent the whole winter on the turbo, desperately trying to improve my fitness to possibly inch my way up to a mid-pack finish.
In the first lap of the first race a couple of weeks ago, I was feeling pretty awesome. I’d got myself solidly into the middle of the pack by the end of the first climb and was actually being held up by a slower descender on the first descent (I’m the world’s worst descender, so this was a surprise). I spotted a gap on a transition between two singletrack descents and decided to go for my first ever racing overtake.
“Rider on your left” – I shot past the slower rider on his inside, overshot the corner into the next bit of singletrack, washed out the front wheel on a dusty berm and catapulted myself OTB (and several feet into the undergrowth). In front of a huge group of spectators and the St John’s Ambulance guys. Who pissed themselves laughing.