Had a bike race yesterday. Haven’t raced XCO in a while, focussing on miles, marathon and the odd road event (ssshh). I didn’t really think about it too much until I woke up that morning and realised I had 90min of abject suffering in my near future.

Despite getting more sleep recently than I had in the insomnia phases earlier this year, I am fucking exhausted. Having some time of work for the first time in 7months surely will help, midday naps await. I rode out to the race and felt awful. The legs lie sometimes, other times they tell it like it is. The problem is you don’t really know which way it is going to go until you’re racing.

Urg. Gurgle. Yawn. So unexcited. Race at 1230. So late. When does one lunch?? What is this 1230 race start time business? Why am I here? What is the meaning of life?

Sky grey with cloud cover and mood grey with mindfog.

The skinsuit was on, however, and I just needed to switch the brain into gear.

I had some secret weapons though, i’ll let you in on them.




Shot the coffee 20min before race start.

Jam some tunes up, warm up while doing some dubious thrusting type manoeuvres (aka: what the young kids call dancing) on the bike in your skinsuit. Works every time. The physiologically impressive (in like a physiologically aberrant “maybe i’m coming down with something”) and not-quite-right 1hr20 at VO2 max speaks for itself; the music aids the hurting.

Without further ado I bring you a sample of my somewhat dubious (and wholly fucking excellent) warmup playlist. From the 80’s to today…

(Some very NSFW images/music right here because AB).