'cross racing is...

Coming soon. So many of us now ride 'cross (cx) bike but have never raced. It really is a world apart, an alternate reality from road or mountain. Weirder than singlespeeds even.

'Cross is Hard. Lungs searing survive that initial sprint, hold your place, watch that squeeze, dont wreck me you F**k! Hit it, legs go, go, go. Recover lungs, damn you, cmon gain in this section, f'in flats, roadies killing me, hold that wheel. Redline, recover, redline again, off bike, over barriers, shit can't clip in, som bitch lost place, f-er, hit it cmon get it back, breathe, get the lactic out, manage the heart rate, can't keep this close to redline, will pay ltr. rip it. good section, ride it clean, hit it, lap over - only 40 more minutes of hell.

'Cross is training. Tuesday nite chasing the 'fast' guys around State College. Wednesday following a Ferrari around and practicing barriers, sprints, and then finishing with a race. It's knowing you'll suffer the entire time but showing up anyway. Its being slow, its being fast, its falling down, its sliding perfectly through a turn, its winning a sprint. Its being out of gas, hungry and cold. Its finishing in the dark. Its rollers and running. Its wanting to quit all the time, but not being able to.

'Cross is travel. Its riding 4 hours to do a 45 minute race. Its planning your weekends around your travel time, not your races. Its google maps and mapquest. Its gas station questions and interstate information kiosks. Its where am I? Its finding America in the middle of nowhere. Its being alone and appreciating a familiar voice on NPR. Its sleeping on couches, floors, and other people's beds. Its about never being comfortable...until Sunday night.

'Cross is a cool scene. Its beer. Its screaming. Its fan friendly. Its seeing the same racers week after week until you are no longer strangers. Its grabbing a beer while off the back or grabbing one while off the front. Its climbing that run-up to delight the crowd. Its swapping stories with Gunnar while rooting against his wife. Its DJs amping up the crowd. Its the announcer saying your name and hometown after a nifty pass. Its toeing the starting line to AC/DC Highway to Hell. Its sharing the hell, the suffering, the want of it to end. And then showing up again.

'Cross is fun! Its yelling, its screaming, its passing, its flying, its jumping, its sliding, its dancing, its drinking, its chatting, its dogs, its dreams, its addictive. Its sunny days, and snow. Its mud and misery. Its a sausage sprint! Its new friends and old. Its strange and familiar. Its smiles. Its laughter. Its endophins. Its the sharing of the moments. Its 'cross.