A Sandbag Can Be Swept Away

Calling someone a sandbagger in the cycling community is like saying "terrorist" on an airplane, a serious offense or seriously funny.  Nobody likes a sandbagger.  Conversely, nobody appreciates being called a sandbagger.  Certainly nobody likes people who call other people sandbaggers, unless you’re totally “besties forever” joking and ribbing over a few beers while toasting a friend or teammate’s stellar performance.  This week a blog called Ohio Sandbagger shouted the “s” word from seat 43-B in the back row.  At first it was funny.  As it settled in, we found out it’s the equivalent of calling a baby ugly to the mother’s face.  Like driving past a porn store on the freeway, we quickly looked away.  It felt wrong.

Traditionally, a sandbag holds back water in a flood, something we’re no strangers to in the Ohio River Valley.  Simply stated, a sandbag prevents the water from flowing to the other side.  A bike racing sandbagger is no different.  True to definition, it stays steadfast, preventing other racers from achieving success or moving up into the next category.  Simple as a straightaway dismount right?  Not so quick speedy, and keep in mind sandbags are temporary.

Also consider some bodies of water physically and figuratively cannot be sandbagged, like the toilet in the Biggest Loser green room.  An elite race is the ocean.  Since it is the ultimate destination for all water, sandbagging is only possible in bodies of water smaller than it.  If you’re looking to out a sandbagger, you’re not going to find one in the Bearing Straight.  It’s best to look in a tributary like Williamstown Lake, the category 3 Ohio River, Duck Creek or the overflow from the port-o-lets at Boon Dock CX Park USA.

While there may be sandbagging going on in the OVCX, thou shalt not use the “S” word in vain.  There’s more than lap times, podium steps and upgrade points to consider.  Like the orange community water bottle jug at cross practice, the water is deep and murky.  There are undercurrents like newborn babies and long hours at work that might keep someone who was successful in the lower category in the past from moving up to the next category tomorrow.  We’re all people with jobs, families, funerals and weddings.  I know crossers that are on-call pilots and late night musicians.  Some of us might even like to do crazy things in our underwear Saturday at midnight.  All of that…is none of your business. 

Then there’s the joy of being on the podium itself.  I’ve been there on occasion, never on the top step in a cyclocross race, but I’ve flanked the sides.  It’s more wonderful than fresh white bar tape and a matching saddle.  With the flashes popping in your eyes, photos being uploaded to your FB wall and big hoots and hugs from your teammates and best buds, it’s something to be enjoyed and celebrated.  It’s as big of a part of racing as the carpool coffee stop.  One thing’s for certain, more of us need to head to the podium to cheer, rather than packing up the car and leaving the race venue in a huff.

Sandbagging is not even about completely trouncing the competition till they’re wheezing like a donkey while crying for mama between bouts of the pukes.  Someone who stomps the Cat 4 or Cat 3 race with lap times that’d put them in the top 15 of an elite race should first be heralded as an up and coming fast S.O.B., not a sandbagger.  Pat ‘em on the back.  Well done.  There are a few folks racing OVCX that I’ve seen do just that.  It’s been amazing to watch and even more fun to cheer, especially when you hear a local did well at Nationals.  That’s called winning.  That’s called training hard and rising to the top.  That’s what most of us are racing for in the first place.  When you get to the top it should be enjoyed, otherwise it’s like having a birthday with no cake. 

While we all initially thumbed our noses at USA Cycling for coming up with categories for our beloved once grass roots sport, the guidelines for upgrading from one category to the next are clear and work quite well.  In the case of having a baby, getting that big promotion with more hours, or having to take care of elderly parents…you can even downgrade.  The great thing about it all is your local USA Cycling representative is likely your Facebook friend.  Without looking at your results on the computer, they probably know you better than you think.  Now that’s grass roots.

Besides, right before our Oakley’s the landscape of cyclocross is changing.  Just a few years ago, we marked our courses with flags and strategically placed water bottles.  We peed in the woods.  All the fields combined may have totaled 35 people.  (photo: Harbin Park 1997) This past weeked at the King’s CX there were reported to be 50 juniors and something crazy like 500 racers.  Already those youngsters are starting to work their way up, busting their humps, racing two or three or four races in a weekend.  No amount of sandbagging is going to hold their flood back.  Nature and youth will take it’s course.

There’s really no need to call out sandbaggers, like there’s no reason to cast judgement on one’s appearance.  There’s always more to the story than the numbers show.  As our new juniors and this year's riders committed to training will prove, some bodies of water may seem impassable, but a sandbag can be moved.  If not, eventually all sandbags deteriorate in the water.  Hup hup buttercup.

RE: Sandbagging & Expecting Twins

"Dear Joe Biker, The following request to change your USAC category has been approved by USA Cycling: Cyclo-cross Racer Request to change category from Cat 3 to Cat 2." It’s 10-12 weeks till cyclocross season, and I’ll need every single day to let my sphincter unclench.  Obviously, the race results I used to support the upgrade request are at least six months old.  Much like the seven years it took for me to get the courage to propose marriage, the decision didn’t come lightly.  However, the best reason I can give in support can be summed up with one sentence.  After making the news Facebook official, a CX buddy commented: “Congrats Joe…I’ll fill up that Cat 3 spot for ya!”

I like that.  A lot.  Someone’s going to take my spot in the 3’s and do it proud.  That’s the stuff that makes men tear up.  Before hearing from him, my main reason for requesting the upgrade was simply because I earned it.  I’m proud of the season I had.  Like the BikeReg.com roadie bitch cap I won in the first cyclocross race last season and like the silver medal I won in the Ohio State Championship, I earned it.  I ate a few salads.  I did hill repeats on Mt. Adams.  While I had a few bad races, more of them were good, and down in the bottom of the bag of swag I won was 13 upgrade points.  I have no illusions; I’m over 40 with a mortgage and a career. I’ll never go pro.  However, I still have the opportunity to compete in the World Championships, National Championships, and the Ohio State Elite Masters Championships.  If I ever happened to win one of those jerseys, I certainly would wear it.  So I got my little #2 sticker, and I’m going to proudly affix to my license.  Then I’ll probably stare at it for a good half hour and show it to my mom next time I visit.

A few months back, there was a story out of the Leadville 100 where a woman who decided not to race gave her race number to a friend.  That friend proceeded to snag a podium finish in the original woman’s age group.  Uh oh.  To say the least I can imagine it was an awkward podium moment.  It brought up huge cries of foul, cheating and some legal issues.  Despite all the ballyhoo about this little race in Colorado, the blogger known as Fat Cyclist brought up a good point.  The situation denied a whole lot of other racers a chance to be one place higher. 

I don’t want to be THAT GUY, not Fatty, the guy who denies others of their chance at doing one place better.  Wait a second Mr. Biker!  Isn’t racing all about denying the person behind you the chance to do one space better?  Sure it is.  However, they way I see it, when I got up over my 10 upgrade points that was USA Cycling’s little way of saying, “Hey Blogger with the devil horns!   You’re at the top.  You really can’t get one spot better.”  Maybe it comes from Catholic guilt or that I’m a fairly generous soul, I don’t want to have a jersey pocketful of upgrade points and spend another season at the front of the field, essentially denying other racers the chance to experience the fun I had last season, the chance to run out of spots.  It was really cool.  If I can step into Cat 2 MTB shoes, I should do it.

I also don’t want to be the bench mark for upgrades.  I spent more than six months mulling this over.  I came to the conclusion if I stayed in the 3’s essentially I would become the hurdle, the barrier for riders to cat up.  That makes me uncomfortable.  I don’t want to be the guy driving the front of the Cat 3 Masters group saying, “If you can beat me, you can move up to the next category.”  Hup hup buttercup!  No.  I’m not that pretentious.

The second to last thing I considered was the ridiculous exercise of where I might finish in the higher category if I were to upgrade.  I’m not immune.  Like we all don’t crunch the numbers or check the rankings on CXresults.com.  I did.  If I can save anyone else  considering an upgrade a little time, here is the answer I arrived at: if I cat up I’ll be between a guy who’s faster than me and a guy who’s slower than me. 

I’ll still be competitive.  There will be someone dangling in front of me and someone else a slippery turn from catching.  The opportunity to snag a piece of the extra deep extra sweet 1/2/3 payout pie will be there too.  Getting a #2 sticker on my license doesn’t guarantee me squat, nor should I have any illusions about it.  It’ll take a few more salads, a few less beers, a couple more sweltering Indian summer hill repeats and even then all I’ll ever get is an opportunity.  The question becomes more of a commitment.  Can I commit myself to train at least as hard or a little more than last year?  Yes.  I can.

Still, I don’t want to move up and finish DFL on day one.  Joe…Joe…stop freaking out.  It’s not going to happen.  I’ve been DFL before and it wasn’t because I was racing a category I didn’t belong in.  It was because I was stressed out from late nights at work, moving into a new house, from putting my dad in hospice care, from life.  I was tired.  I didn’t eat enough.  It was too hot.  There’s not a Cat 2 Masters racer that isn’t immune to that.  That day may come again.  It took less than an hour for USA Cycling to grant me the upgrade.  It would take less to downgrade if need be. 

So before I click “send” on the USA Cycling website, I considered my current situation in life.  It’s because of this that I’ll never outwardly criticize those that stay in the same category from one year to the next.  I am not in their shoes.  They could be expecting twins.  Someone in their family could be dependent on an IV bag.  Their boss may have given them the promotion to 3^rd shift supervisor.  While I haven’t asked my wife to pee on a stick, two years ago my father passed away and my cycling went to crap.  The stress of the funeral and closing the estate put a wicked mooglie in my back and time on the bike.  Life gets in the way sometimes.  No matter how much carbon flair is in my garage, bike racing is not priority numero uno.  So while those points itch and poke in my jersey pocket, I took inventory of personal baggage.  I’m not carrying a whole lot this year, so I think at least I’ll be as fast as last year, with luck, even faster.

So, my Cat 2 cyclocross upgrade sticker is in the mail.  Now I have 12 weeks to lose 4-5 pounds, crush some hill repeats, practice dismounts and get ready to reach out and try my hardest to stay behind someone and keep someone behind me in the next Masters 1/2/3 race.  If there’s one perk about an upgrade, it’s great motivation.

You sure you’re not pregnant honey?