Every athlete has one.
Muck with it and the top spot on the podium isn’t even an option. For some it’s magic socks, a lucky pair of shorts, or cycling cap. For others, it’s how you prepare: your training, tire choice, tire pressure, saddle and bar tape color, toe spike length, or choice of eyewear. Tweak or forget any of these seemingly minor variables, and you’ll get lapped. It’s true.
For me, it’s what I eat right before the start of the race. Well, it’s what I eat or drink. What hits my blood stream in that t-minus 30 minute zone helps win or lose the race. In cyclcross it’s especially important because towards the end of your 45-60 minutes of racing you probably start to get tired. At that point, you physically fall back on your ritual food and hope for the best. It’s physical and emotional insurance. Get it right, and everything else just falls into place.
I’ve seen people wolf down all kinds of shit before the start. A sandwich, energy gels, energy blocks, candy, bananas, beer, flat soda, coffee, espresso, cold pasta, hot apple cider, and more. I personally have tried all of those, and have found that time and time again there is one option that settles my nerves like no other.
I had a good race about three years ago. It wasn’t a cyclocross race, and it was in the middle of the summer, but I’ll always remember it. I rode to the race on my surly cross check with fenders and a bent rear wheel. On the way I stopped at the local coffee shop to get some caffeine before the start. Caffeine itself is less of a ritual for me, and more of an addiction. These days I always need a coffee before I ride, so on some level I ride more to drink more… to ride more. I find this to be true for many cyclists.
Anyway, I had a macchiato. Two shots of espresso, marked with a bit of foamed milk. It’s very good. Not necessarily a wise choice for a hot mid-summer race warm up, but very good. After the break, I continued riding to the venue thinking about how heavy my legs felt.
I won the race. It’s the only race I’ve ever won, and it happened because of that ritual macchiato.
To this day, I enjoy a drink like that before nearly every competition. I don’t ever win, but it is calming and makes me feel like I could. It resets all the poor decisions and makes up for the on-the-couch training program that dominates most of my year.
Without the ritual, I’m racing on eggbeaters with bare feet. With it in place, I care far less about how muddy it is and how bald my tires are. I care less about where I line up at the start, and how cold I might be during the race. I don’t obsess about the warm up. I’m able to clear my head, ignore all the little details and focus on having a great time. That’s the best way to kick ass.
Slam a flat coke while shivering in your station wagon and putting on dry socks before the start. Pound four shots of homemade espresso out of a baby food jar on the line. Find your jam, it’s important.
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