By Lee Waldman — Cyclocross season began here in Colorado on September 3. Normally I would be writing about what I’m looking forward to, what my goals are and what my plans are. I might even be dispensing some advice to the OGs who follow me. Advice focuses on what we can do as aging athletes to continue to be competitive. But that’s not what I’m writing about today. Cross season did start on the third, but for the first time ever, I’m not prepared to begin racing. I am, however, prepared to get rid of the leg brace and crutches I’ve been dragging around for the past 6 weeks.
I initially injured myself on July 5 in a gravel race in Colorado. It seemed minor at the time. A fall on my hip when my front wheel slid out on a loose off camber traverse. Driving home from the race I just thought that I had badly bruised my hip and glutes. It didn’t get better. It kept hanging on until one day my wife suggested that I might have a hairline fracture. Being to “warrior” that I am, I refused to even explore the possibility. We just happened to be on an Alaska cruise at the time. I continued to ignore the nagging pain and discomfort, telling myself that I was getting better.
Fast forward a few days. We’re home from the cruise and I’m out on the road again. I stopped to make a quick shifter adjustment, stepped off the bike wrong, went down on the very same hip and immediately knew that I had done something. A trip to the ER confirmed a femur fracture. Another trip to an orthopedic doc further confirmed the fracture and sentenced me to at least 6 weeks in a brace and on crutches. I now had to deal with the fact that I wasn’t going to line up on September 3 for my first race of the season, but that I might not be racing at all.
I didn’t start writing this column to invite you to my personal pity. I’m writing to share some of the thinking I was forced to do as a result. The question that I’ve been struggling with is one that some of you might also be struggling with now. It may be one that some of you younger racers will have to explore in the future. Because guess what … we all get older. Our bodies start to wear out. Bones become brittle. Mentally we may get tired of the grind of hard training. For me it’s been the result of having had to recover from 2 significant injuries and another 5 days in intensive care over the last 2 plus years. It’s left me worn down in a way that I never have experienced before.
But despite the physical and emotional fog, I’ve never stopped looking forward to the day I can throw my leg over the top tube and roll out of my driveway onto the road. And, in some sort of masochistic urging I look forward to the pain that goes with every cyclocross start where I’m redlined from the gun. I can’t wait for the day when I spend every second of a race looking for a better line, trying to rail the next corner, making that next transition smoother and faster than the last one. Therein is the beauty of cyclocross for me. It’s not the winning because those moments are fleeting at best. It’s the challenge that I face every time I’m on my cross bike. The challenge to be better, smoother, more graceful than the last.
Other types of bike racing have their own inherent beauty. The sound of a peloton rolling along at 20 mph is exhilarating. The true suffering of an individual time trial is addicting. But the dancelike quality that I’ve discovered and tried to hone over the past few decades is what motivates me. Cyclocross is not gravel. There aren’t those endless stretches of road or never-ending climbs that challenge me in a different way. The grace and beauty are missing. Do I love to race gravel? Absolutely. Does it fill my bucket in the same way that cross does? Sorry, no.
Since I began writing this column, my leg has healed enough that I’ve been given the go ahead to ride on the road. It’s been almost 3 months, and I need it. It will be a few more weeks before I can pin a number on again, but I can see the end of this journey. For all of the reasons I’ve tried to share with you, I can’t wait. I may suffer. I may end up riding in the back. But I’ll be there, and I’ll be working on my “dance steps” in and endless effort to achieve something resembling grace. I hope that this column has helped you understand why you yourself race cyclocross. Or maybe it’s gotten you interested in the sport. Either way, I wish you luck.
Lee Waldman is a dyed in the wool cyclist and writer. He’s held a USAC racing license for 45 years and has raced road, mtb., gravel and his love – cyclocross. He’s a “recovering” middle school teacher and writer, having written for CX magazine for over 10 years. Most importantly, Lee is the proud grandfather of 5 grandchildren. Between training, racing, writing and being a grandpa, he’s pretty busy. Lee has two things to share. He says that he was a pretty good dad, but he’s a REALLY GOOD grandpa. He also lives by this quote from Satchel Paige: “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?”
