BMC Classic 100K Race Report - Woodend Victoria - April 18th - 20th

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It was with a mix of trepidation and excitement that I jumped into the car early Saturday morning for the drive down to Woodend for the BMC Classic. Excitement because this was my first interstate race, and trepidation because I was really underdone fitness wise and didn’t know how I was going to go. But headed south I did. With the iPod loaded to the gills with music I pointed the car southward for the 10.5 hour drive. The drive itself was uneventful and in between texting my wife and letting her know I was OK and hadn’t driven off into so some ditch, and talking to myself things were normal.

I arrived at Cammeray Watters at around 5.00pm, just as I had planned. I wanted to get there with enough light to pitch my tent. As soon as I found a suitable spot I erected the tent and set myself up before heading down to the rego tent for my number and the usual bag of goodies that they normally hand out. Once collected I surveyed the scene, checked out a few of the manufacturer tents before heading back to camp. I got myself organised for the morning as the cloud cover grew and grey skies threatened to put a dampener on an otherwise beautiful day. After sorting my stuff for the race and prepping the bike I made myself some dinner on the little stove I bought along. By this stage a biting wind had whipped up making things a little chilly so I rugged up then after dinner I headed back to the event centre to see if there was anything exciting happening. Nothing much going on really so it was back to camp. I decided to sit down and go through the goodie bag I was given. I read through the paraphernalia before deciding to retire early – at the time of 8.45pm. Wow! Am I getting old? Perhaps but I wanted a good nights sleep based on what I thought I was going to endure tomorrow.

Throughout the night I could hear the sound of wind lashing the tent with a light drizzle and I remember dreaming something along the lines of ‘great, just what we need’.

The following morning the alarm went off at 5.30am and I crawled out of bed to a light drizzle. Gee, dreams do come true, or maybe I wasn’t really dreaming? Who knows but I thought I should get myself organised... I did just that, downing some cereal and an Up n’ Go before going to do the standard waiting in line for the toilet thing. Luckily there were heaps, so I wasn’t waiting as long as I thought. About 6.30am I kitted up thinking it should be fine but the wind was still biting and I was wondering what the hell was about to put myself through. I struck up a conversation with the guy camping next to me when over the loudspeaker I heard that the start was being delayed by 30 minutes... great I thought. To keep warm I decided to ride around for a while and gazed at the bling being paraded around by the other riders... I hit the start line and found a friend I had ridden with a couple of times in Sydney, Gary. We chatted about all sorts of things passing time waiting for the gun to go off.

Finally it was our turn and with my left foot set at 6pm as I went over the mat to set the timing off, we were off. The first kilometre or so was pretty sedate as we rolled out of Cammeray Waters and back down Taylors Rd. It wasn’t long before we hit the single track and we all came to a complete halt as 1000 riders filed single file into the start of the single track. The first section of single track was a stop start affair as we rode wheel to wheel. As soon as we hit the first of the fire roads though, it wasn’t long before we all started to disperse as the faster guys jockeyed for position and the slower guys, including me, took their time. Wombat State Forest could best be described, from my personal experience, as a mixture of Canberra trails and Lidsdale at Lithgow, if you’ve ever been there. The course was bumpy for this old guy on a rigid 29er and I started thinking what the hell had I got myself into? I’d been riding for what seemed like an eternity when we finally reached the 10km sign. Ten kilometres? What the? It should be longer I thought. And it was at this point that I had already psyched myself out. I thought, hell, if I have to endure another 90km of this, god, I just won’t make it! Anyway, I carried on and as the wind felt colder, we ducked in and out of the single track broken up with some fire road climbs and descents. This really spread the field out, or maybe I was just drifting to the rear end of the field. Things were slow going but I noticed a lot of people on the side of the trail, fixing flats, broken derailleurs, and themselves. On 2 occasions I came across people wrapped in space blankets. That’s never a good sign. One rider I overheard he overcooked a corner and hit a tree. Not good. Anyway, I continued on, mostly without a granny ring as the mud and muck had decided to play havoc with my front derailleur. I decided to just do without and keep going in the middle ring. I hit a couple of hills and found there were riders walking faster than me pedalling in 32-34. Crap! Was it better to walk? Not for me psychologically so I kept going.
I reached the first feed station after what seemed like forever. I scoffed as much watermelon and banana pieces and energy drink as I could, refilled my Camelbak and willed myself onward. I took my arm warmers off thinking that it may be fine and won’t be as cold. That may have been the fatal mistake as right after the feed station was a long fast descent which chilled me to the core. Now I really wasn’t enjoying myself but tried to keep going, thinking when I should bail.

That time came at Checkpoint 9 where I decided to call it quits and cut my losses and head home. I was feeling very dejected that I was about to DNF, especially after driving all that way. I was upset at myself, but couldn’t wait to get back to Cammeray Waters to clean up, warm up, pack up and go home. After the marshal Anthony from Checkpoint 9 gave me a map to get out I pedalled slowly back to Cammeray Waters. I got back to my car a broken rider, the first time I had felt this way in a long time. I dejectedly got changed into some warm gear before heading down to the finish to hand in my timing chip. Ironically I saw Anthony there and handed him my chip, before heading back to camp, packing up and heading on my way.

I learned some lessons this Sunday. Number one is that you MUST train properly for a 100km endurance event. No half arsed training, just riding your bike to work every now and then, which is what I had been doing recently. Secondly, a rigid bike will just not cut it in endurance racing. A full suspension is really the ticket to save your backside and make things a little more comfortable. These are lessons that I will certainly take on board for the next endurance race I do, but I’m thinking maybe it might be better to do a 50km instead of a full 100km and have some fun. After all isn’t it what it’s all about? I definitely psyched myself out on Sunday and that’s something else I need to work on.

Overall, I thought the running of the event was good, the course was good, it’s just a shame that the weather couldn’t have been a touch better (read: warmer) but that’s Victoria for you. I would’ve also enjoyed it more if I was fitter, but that’s my fault, not anyone else’s. Would I do race the BMC Classic again? Maybe. With the knowledge I now have I would certainly be better prepared next time around. I think I would have to do it again, just to say I’ve completed it, just as I completed the Dirtworks 100 at St Albans last year. I know I certainly won’t be giving up on endurance racing all together.

So after packing up I pointed the faithful Hyundai Accent north and headed home. I made it as far as Wangaratta before deciding to bed down for the night and boy did I sleep. Like a rock, or a baby, or a baby rock... In the next few days I’ll reassess and decide my next move. It was an experience, that’s for sure!