mo diesel

Sunday, June 01, 2008

Saturday May 31st ~ the 11th edition of the Montreal Women’s Cycling World Cup

In the North American women’s cycling scene the Montreal World Cup is a pretty big deal, it’s the highest calibre race on the continent, the only World Cup held in North America. And this year it is the final selection day for Canada, and I believe some of the other countries as well, to determine who will go to Beijing this August.

The course is roughly 1/3 up, 1/3 down and 1/3 flat, climbing Mont-Royal 11 times, each circuit lasting 10.06 kms. It’s a climber’s course; only true heavy hitters will be atop the podium at the end of the day.

I am here with the national team, the first time I have ever been the baby of the NT at an event. I’m excited to race with some of the more senior girls, although given the course and the level of the field I know that I’m unlikely to be able to contribute much other than possibly a wheel in the early stages of the race. The energy of the team is good, and considering all that is at stake there is a calmness I admittedly did not expect.

I arrived early with 3 full days to relax in Montreal and adjust to the time change. Many of the teams stay in the dorms at the University which is quite convenient as it is right on the course and although its not fancy, we each have our own rooms which is ideal given individual preferences for sleep and wake patters as well as tidiness.

Friday morning on our pre-ride of the course I was pleasantly surprised with how well my legs and bike felt. I hadn’t been expecting such a big difference in the way my bike would feel with new race wheels (Friday was literally my first ride on my new carbon deep dish Spinergy’s)… I think that sometimes when the bike feels really good the legs respond by feeling just that little bit better too. I was happy to feel a little spark back in the legs as I’ve had a disconcertingly long flat stretch. After a team dinner at a great Italian restaurant in the “Little Italy” district of Montreal and a brief meeting about the next day’s race everyone turned in for zzz’s.

Saturday morning we woke to a frighteningly loud air-horn noise, almost alarming enough to make a person wonder whether they should be hiding under their bed rather going to look out the window! I later learned that the use of this horn is customary here to remind people to move their parked cars off the road when a special event is going to occur, prior to them towing – nice gesture I guess.

Looking out my 11th story window the air was grey with rain, streams running down the streets, standing water pooling where it could. These are the kind of days where you either choose to enjoy the rain, or let it empty your mental fuel tank. If you’re scared, tired or sick its harder to convince yourself that racing in the rain is fun – and it can really shoot your day.
view from dorms and relaxing & elevating my legs while drinking my pre-race coffee




Getting a good position at the start I jammed myself into the middle of the pack as we started up Mont-Royal. Although I’m by no means a “climber”, climbing can be fun if you’re in the right mind-space. There are different levels of it: the cruisy, easy pace which comes sometimes early in long races before the tactics begin or in lower level races; the on-top-of-the-gear feel of a moderate paced climb, where it hurts just a little, but you don’t really notice the pain, or where you are being sucked along up a climb in the middle of the peleton, particularly when you enter the climb with momentum; and then there’s the kind that hurts. Sometimes it hurts intolerably. And sometimes you’re somehow able to get through that intolerance, to a point where you don’t really feel anymore, where your vision is narrowed and your ears ring, where your legs are able to do their job without apparent connection to the brain. There are also times where you want to stand out of your saddle, but your legs won’t let you. Times where it doesn’t seem like you’re going particularly quickly but your legs burn so badly they feel as though they may explode... or snap into bits. Times where it feels like your quads are lead and your bike a 100-pound object that you’re trying to roll up hill. Today things feel OK. As the pace slows on the climb the peleton gets wide; immersed in the middle, the distinctive smell of capsicum (in leg balm used on cold wet days), the sounds of the rain water spiting off tires, of others breathing, some heavily, some quite laboured, of spectators cheering, the taste of the spray water and grit of sand when I touch my teeth together, all distract me from the ascent itself. Sheltered from the wind I move with the flows of traffic through the peleton. Before I know it the first lap is over, then the 2nd, and 3rd…. with each pass I get closer to my goal of making it 6 laps; I know this doesn’t sound like much but the first time I did this race, 2 years ago, and on my very first project with the NT, I only made 3 laps. There are riders who I have a great deal of respect for who have ultimately ridden successfully at the international level who claim it has taken them years of racing this race before they were able to finish successfully, one year lasting 4 laps, the next 5 and so on. As the laps wear on the peleton shrinks and I yo-yo off the back at the top of the climb and chase back on the descent, sometimes with others, sometimes without. Going into the 5th climb with the peleton I remember the story of making it another lap or two each year and begin to think that I may actually make it through this race.

With each lap the cracks and pot-holes (Quebec pavement is notorious for being tremendously cracked from the freezing and thawing with seldom repair) in the road seem to get deeper…. to the point where it strikes me that it feels more like a pogo-stick race than a bike race!


Ultimately I do finish, albeit with a small group several minutes behind the first to cross the line. I am satisfied with my day. I rode to the best of my ability on the day, had fun and survived a race of attrition for a 44th placing - only around 1/3 of the 150-some starters made it through without abandoning or finishing outside the time cut.

At the front of the race Judith Arndt (HighRoad, Ger) and Fabiana Luperini (Menikini, Ita) finished in that order 30 seconds in front of a small group of chasers containing 3 Canadians. Leigh Hobson (CDN NT) convincingly won the sprint, Anne Samplonius (CDN NT) took 6th and Errine Willock (Webcor Builders, Can) 7th. It was a tremendous day for Canada with 3 in the top 7! And personally for Leigh, the ride of a lifetime, as this performance gives her an automatic spot on the CDN team at Beijing!!


A good day of bike racing! And now its time to rest up as we have only one day off before the Tour du Grande Montreal, a 5-stage, 4-day UCI stage race begins.

Thanks for reading,

Moriah