Ardooie, or don’t we?
I can’t decide. I suppose results speak for themselves, to a degree, so perhaps that’s a good place to start?
What’s on my mind right now is that I crashed. Again. On the pavement. On the same hip. AGAIN. This is the third time in a month, I think, that I’ve ripped the skin off my right hip. And all 3 crashes have been the same freak thing. I’m just riding, and VWOOP! I’m on the ground sliding with my hands still on the handlebars.
Let me back all the way up to the start. I was called up in the 3rd row, which I was pretty happy about. There were about 50 starters, so there were 3 more rows behind me. I was lined up behind Michael Muller, who was lined up behind Jon Page. It was like being at home!
My plan for the day was to do a normal fast start, but not bury it, and then back off immediately to my own comfortable pace. I talked to Franky van Haesebroucke before the start and he gave me the advice I was thinking to myself. “You just got here, it’s your first race, start slow and ride steady. Jonathan always goes too hard in his first race here.” Perfect.
So while I hit the first section of dirt after the start in about 15th wheel, I dialed it down to TT mode, and about 20 dudes sprinted by me trying to hold the wheels. I tried not to panic, to trust myself, and just kept it rolling. By the end of the first lap, I was somewhere back in the 30’s, but still on wheels, and still close enough to see groups around the turns with guys I would have been happy to ride with like Michi, Nico Clarysse, and Camiel van den Burgh. So I just kept plugging along.
On the 3rd lap, it started to rain, for only about 3 minutes. Enough to make the pavement wet, and dangerous. As we came through the start finish stretch and near the turn onto the grass again, I decided to leave a little room to the rider in front of me and take it gently. As I was thinking this to myself, and before I had probably finished the thought, I was on the ground. I hit some kind of oil patch on the outside of the turn, possibly because I was going slow enough to go a little more outside than normal. I was up in a flash, but already bloody from ripping away the new skin that had finally formed on my hip, and limped to the pit.
I lost a few places, and a lot of morale. I changed bikes and just tried to find my rhythm. And strangely, I found it. Maybe it was because I had nothing to lose at that point, maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe I was just finally comfortable on the course. But I started riding sections in the big ring that I was struggling on before. I flew through the sand pit. I sprinted out of all the turns. And then I started to catch people. Crazy.
In the end, I did still get lapped, with 3 to go. Not a stellar showing. But to get 34th out of 50 starters isn’t embarrassing, at least, even though it felt so during the race. Sten’s brother Sven, who was pitting for me with his dad, said that I was going well in the last few laps and making up ground to the riders in front of me.
I’d love it if I could build on this ride and have a little more confidence in the next race. I should be over the jet lag, and hopefully the crash doesn’t leave me too sore. However, the next races is a fucking World Cup, so I can’t imagine it’s going to be any easier than a little C2 on a Thursday afternoon in sleepy Ardooie.
Tomorrow I have to rent a car, see if I can move my hotel room up one day, and drive to Kalmthout. I’m a little stressed about it. I have AIOC-Cross meetings starting at 10 am, and going all day, with dinner scheduled at 7. Not the best way to spend the day before a World Cup, but then again, I wouldn’t even be here to do the World Cup if I wasn’t using the meeting as my excuse. So my only hope is to leave here tomorrow, get checked into the hotel, and get my ride in at 8 am before the day starts. And drink a lot of coffee, I guess.
