Australian Marathon Champs

This is the day that plenty of mountain bikers in Australia had been waiting for – the chance to wear the Aussie Champion’s jersey and pocket some handy prize money.

So the day rolled around and, after feeling great in the legs the day before, I felt a bit sluggish as I warmed up but I wasn’t too worried because I knew it was going to be a long day and, if anything, it’d be better to feel slightly average early because it could mean that I’d be forced to hold back and hopefully feel stronger as the race progressed.

The gun went and I had a shocker getting my foot into my pedal and also managed to drop my chain in the first 50 metres. Not that it really mattered though – with the long day ahead we started at a relatively leisurely pace.

We hit the first section of singletrack about 20 minutes into the race and the bunch began to string out slightly. I was riding within myself but pushing pretty hard at the same time. As the undulating trails continued I found myself digging deeper and deeper to stay with the front group. I reminded myself that the pace would settle as the race progressed and if I could just hang in there my legs might start to improve.

So we quickly formed a lead bunch of about ten riders and made our way through more singletrack paddocks before hitting a super steep little climb where gaps started to form. I was at the back of the bunch but managed to get in a quick descent and latch myself onto the back of the bunch once more. By this time I was starting to sense that it wasn’t really my day. I was digging deep and it was only one hour into the race.

The next hour or so passed pretty quickly as we made our way over some dirt roads and even some tarmac still all together as a bunch. A few attacks went but the bunch quickly reeled them back in and all in all, it was pretty smooth sailing.

I tried to eat and drink as much as I could in this downtime knowing that there would be some tough times to follow.

We hit up a few more leg-sapping climbs before entering into the first major section of singletrack. The pace was pretty cruisy through this section and I tried to spin some little gears and convince my legs to feel good again.

We exited that singletrack and hit a longer climb soon after, at about the 3 hour mark, and this was where my average legs showed themselves. I was pushing as hard as I could but there wasn’t much power coming out. I gradually drifted off the back of the bunch and tried to hold a decent pace in the hope of bridging back across to the group on the next descent.

I chased my heart out for the next half hour and managed to catch Troy Glennan who also got dropped on the climb but the effort in catching him had dug me into a big hole which I couldn’t clamber out of. I ate, drank and sucked down PowerGels but it was all too late by this time. So I frustratingly limped home and slipped down the field to about 14th place almost 10 minutes down on the winner.

It wasn’t a great day for me and I’m not really sure why I blew up so badly. Anyway, hopefully I can gain some lessons from the day and hit up the next race fitter, faster and smarter.

Special congratulations to my Giant team mate Murray Spink who took out the race in fine style, riding a damn good race and letting out a roar as he crossed the line – awesome stuff!

Thanks too to my sponsors for another tough but incident-free day on the bike and thanks to Russ Baker for the pics.

Grafton to Inverell Cycle Classic

When I first heard about the ‘the Grafton’ I was a young tacker, very new to the racing scene. Being 230km long, it sounded epic and with a 17km climb and about 1500 metres of vertical gain over that 17kms, it sounded tough. Immediately it was a race I wanted to do.

So, about ten years later and having raced all over the world but never in far northern NSW on a road bike, I was on the start line of my first ever Grafton to Inverell. And I was shivering (mainly because it was 8am in the morning and damn cold, but also because I was, I admit, slightly scared.)

The race started at a super slow pace due to an overly long neutral roll-out behind the race official’s van but after about 15 minutes the van waved the flag and the race was on!

A breakaway of riders went off the front of the bunch early and I cursed myself for not making more of an effort to make the cut. Sitting back in the bunch and cruising along I knew it’d just mean more pain at about the 70km point of the race were the roads would head skyward and the strong guys would start to set a ballistic pace to catch the breakaway group.

So the first two hours passed by at not too fast a pace and we made our way closer and closer to the Gibraltar Range.

After only a few minutes of climbing with the bunch on the mountain I was already hurting and dreaming of the top despite knowing that it was plenty more painful pedal strokes away. The bunch strung out and riders started dropping off as I clenched my teeth, sucked in as much air as I could, and reminded myself that if ever there was a time to amp up, it was now.

The first third of the climb felt damn hard but the gradient eased a bit about half way up and I started feeling okay and gaining confidence with every pedal stroke…but then the road pointed up more steeply and the pain was back! It was tough not knowing where the top of the climb was but after about 40 minutes we crested the mountain and I was well and truly at my limit.

And then the attacks started. A group was intent on getting away and the bunch was strung out in response. I was really hanging by this point but, luckily for my legs, another bunch managed to get off the front and the tempo in our rapidly diminishing group eased.

We were only about half way and it was four hours in. It was going to be a long day. Our group tried to work together but half of us were just too tired and the other half didn’t want to drag the rest along so there were a number of attacks before, at about the 160km mark, there was an unspoken truce which said “okay guys, we’re out here together and we all have to get home so how about we just ride a steady tempo and help each other to make it to the finish line (and the pub).”

So we worked together for the final two hours and made it to the finish line in about six hours and forty minutes. It was a huge day for me and a very tough one but I had a great time and certainly want to return fitter and stronger. In the end I finished about 32nd out of about 76 starters in A Grade which I was relatively happy with.

For a complete change of scene, it’s off to Bendigo this coming weekend for the Australian Marathon Champs – a mountain bike race with tonnes of fun trails, I can’t wait.

Thanks to all my sponsors for another epic day on the bike!