“Journeyman: A worker or sports player who is reliable but not outstanding”. This sums me up to a T, I think. Find a small enough cycling-related pond and I can be a big fish, but in the very big pond that is the XCM Worlds, I have no illusions – I expect to be the smallest of minnows. However, while Kulhavy, Sauser et al will be duking it out up front for the rainbow stripes and will be disappointed not to come away with a medal, I will just be happy to have it made it there.
Mountain biking is fun, and marathons particularly, at whatever level you do them. But for me at least an added part of the satisfaction I get from riding, training and racing is setting myself goals and seeing if I can hit them. In the past, some of these goals I was fairly confident were achievable with enough time and dedication – for example getting my 1st category road racing licence took a good winter and then just doing enough of the right racing to accumulate the points needed. And winning road races took finding the right level of race, choosing the right course to suit me and doing enough of them to allow everything to come together on the day (which has never happened that often, by the way).
But four years ago I set myself a goal which felt like a real stretch – something I had no idea if I was capable of doing; which I could strive at for several years and fail; something which was black and white, make it or don’t make it, no halfway house. That was to qualify for XCM Worlds. Why not choose to try and get to the biggest race of the season in my chosen discipline? Not age-group, not masters, but the real deal.
So I had no idea whether I could make it; but I knew it would be a good focus, and it be fun trying, whatever the result. There are three routes to qualify: you have to either be selected by your national federation, come in the top 20 in on of the UCI marathon series, or be in the top 50 in the UCI rankings based on points achieved through the series. British Cycling will select you if you are national champion, but not really otherwise; my top result in nationals is 13th, so that wasn’t really on the cards. It turns out getting into the top 50 is really pretty hard – for example Erik Kleinhans, who is a real hitter in his native South Africa, is currently 56th. That leaves top 20 in a single UCI race.
The journey has lasted four seasons: 2012 involved a bit of exploration, coming in around 40th at both the Roc Laissagais in France and the O-Tour in Switzerland, and discovering just how strong the fields in these races are. 2013 was pretty much a write-off – after feeling amazing going into the Cape Epic, a crash in the final kilometer resulted in a broken hip and four months on crutches. I made it back to the O-Tour in September but was barely making up the numbers.
2014 required a bit more focus. I realised that I was going to struggle to make that magic top 20 in the big races, so I had to go hunting for softer fields in further-flung locations… This was brought home by the contrast between a really good ride for 60th at the Roc Ardennes in May, compared with a slightly imperfect ride for 22nd at the Malevil Cup in the Czech Republic a month later. This was followed by an agonising 21st – one damn place! – at the Ucka Marathon in Croatia in July, and then the cancellation of a race in Latvia at the end of August – such are the perils of targeting more obscure, and therefore less stable, races. At that point I thought it was game over – at 36 I wasn’t getting any younger, and with my first child on the way it was going to be less and less possible to devote the hours needed to training to break through the magic 20 barrier.
But having a supportive fiancee (thanks Patti!) opened up 2015 as the last-chance saloon. The plan was Portugal for Meda 100 in May, back to the Malevil Cup in Czech in June, and the Montafon M3 in Austria in August. The birth of the afore-mentioned child in February would however make the whole season a bit of an unknown quantity. Via some fairly extreme training timetabling, I managed to get some decent training in, and in Portugal sneaked a 20th place.
So here I am. A very small fish in a big pond, and barely cannon fodder in the exalted company of a World Championship, but with some pristine Great Britain kit waiting to be worn on Saturday, and very pleased to have achieved something which I have made a target for several years. While Kulhavy et al are doing their thing up front, just being here is my victory, and I intend to enjoy it. Check back after Saturday to see if I manage to do so!