I’ve been racing cyclocross for a few years now.
I keep coming back week after week. Year after year.
But I don’t know why.
Cyclocross is stupid.
Think about it.
We ride around in circles over grass, dirt, and sand as fast as we can go—on a modified road bike.
Raining? Too bad. Snowing? Too bad. Mud? Too bad.
Flat tires are almost guaranteed. And so are crashes, collisions, and injuries.
And we pay money to do it. We train for it. We own bikes specially made for it. We wear skinsuits!
Stupid. So stupid.
Underlying the stupidity is the unpleasant reality that I am a terrible cyclocross racer. I can’t bunny-hop anything. My little legs are too short to run up stairs. I can’t corner. Or sprint. Off-camber? Not a chance.
But I keep coming back because it’s the most fun I’ve ever had racing a bike.
I don’t know why cyclocross is so much fun. It shouldn’t be fun. No single aspect of ‘cross is fun. Nobody likes intervals. Nobody likes mud, cold, and rain. Or muddy cold rain. Nobody wants to worry incessantly about tire pressure, tread patterns, or if they have enough sealant for all the goatheads. And no one on the planet wants to shoulder their bike and run up a hill.
But when all those stupid things are combined and logic is ruined, ‘cross happens.
And ‘cross is amazing.
Yeah, cyclocross is also stupid. But that’s why I keep coming back.
Week after week.
Year after year.