I fucking hate you Cat 3 cyclocross.
I hate how you are so fucking fast at the front, because the front consists of the next batch of fucking Cat 2s.
I hate how, if there’s a massive pileup wreck at the start of the race, I can’t just write all of you crashed-up fuckers off like I would in fucking Cat 4.
I hate how I will run a set of stairs like a fucking champion, nail the fucking remount, and think I put a dent in you fuckers unlucky enough to be crawling up my ass. For a moment I’m right. Then I get to the next turn and there you are again, like fucking athlete’s foot.
I hate how I will hop something you have to dismount for and it doesn’t fucking matter at all, in the end no distance between us has changed as a result of my thinking I’m being fucking cool.
I hate how when I hear you behind me I race you and take your lines and all it is accomplishing is fucking pissing you off and not constructively advancing my position in any possible way.
I hate how I fucking throttle myself back on a stiff climb because “it’s a long race” and you fucking hammer up it like who the fuck cares yolo.
I hate how I pass you mid-race and I think I’m progressively putting time into you because I have somehow “broken your spirit” and it doesn’t fucking work because you’re not fucking terrible.
I hate how I pass you in the final stretch and beat you and want to fucking throw up from trying so hard and then I find out you had plenty of energy to race again that day.
I hate how if I finish 20th out of 28 in one race, that statistically I should finish 100th out of 140 in another race, but I’ll still only fucking beat 8 people in that another race. Fuck.
I hate how in general, I have to fucking try.
I fucking hate you.
But it’s fun.
chasing 1:20 
As i sit here on Monday October 7th, a day after destroying more shit at a cyclocross race than my wallet cares to know about ( Sat and Sun at Provi), or my wife either, trying to figure out how i missed the memo about 10 starts no longer being criteria (i think) to upgrade from Cat 4 to Cat 3 in cross (been doing 2 or even 3 races a day to get my 10 early), google pointed me here. Where for the last 15 minutes i have been laughing my ass off reading your blog. You pretty much summed up in your post from Sept 22 this year and your post for reasons to upgrade to a cat3 back in 2010 what i have been thinking for the past 2 years. See, i have been lounging as a mid to mid front packer Cat4 for the past 3 years, depending on how much i felt like working that fall or not, and feel it is also time for me to take the plunge, break 200lbs (downward) and start racing with all the skinny fast fucks and get my shit handed to me. I know how to race, can race fast, know race lines and how to handle my bicycle, but need the kick in my ass to finish off my weightloss and get into really good shape, and yes, i fucking hate 8am races also. Since most are 2 hours from home, its up at dark o thirty to race with no spectators at the ass crack of dawn, and trust me, Dawns ass crack is not all shes made out to be and be home by the end of day to a wrathful wife wondering where in fucks sake i have been all day and why i smell like beer. Sooo my hats off to you, for this wonderful blog i have now added to my bookmarks and hopefully someone to share a beer with in Cat 3 hell later this season (if they allow me to upgrade on finishes). If not, beer hand up to you as i spectate yet again, the Cat i don't belong in, but should really be in!!!
Rudy B
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