me on a bike

Our club puts on a 3-stage race each September, the Vuelta de San Jose.

Stage 1: 7.6-mile ITT on Canada Road
Stage 2: 20-mile crit in Santa Clara
Stage 3: 50-mile Road Race near Uvas Dam

Stage 1:
Even though I rode this last year, I went out on Wednesday and re-rode the course just to remember what the rolling hills and wind were like. I made some minor tweaks to the clip-on aero bars and raised my seat a little, most of which I unraised later. I don't really feel my bike setup is ideal for converting to a TT bike: ideally i'd like to have my seat further forward and higher, but my stem is too short for that, and my aero bars are also too short to get good extension out in front of me.

I rode my imperfect TT bike to almost the exact same time as last year, only a few seconds faster. I thought my effort was pretty strong and even, only dipping below my target HR zone for a few seconds on the way back when the legs started hurting. I heard the wind was worse this year, but I'm not sure. At any race, when I finished, I was pleased, because I thought I had gone under 19 mins, and because I thought my time last year was slower. Both turned out to be false, so I was a bit bummed that night. Maybe I'll compare times to see if I can make myself feel better.

Stage 2:
So, I was in 16th of 24 A riders going into the crit. I was about 2:30 behind the leader, so there wasn't much chance of me contending. My pre-race goal was top-10 which seemed possibly achievable. I moved up to 15th just by showing up, since one person ahead of me bowed out!

I felt good in the crit. I didn't make and stupid suicide attacks. I mostly tried to sit in, but when we were coming around for the lone prime lap, I went toward the front to make sure the pace stayed high for our best two contenders, Todd and Mike. Near turn 4 I moved to the front and put in a strong turn. I was just making sure the pace was high, but then Mike yelled, "keep going, Arik!" so I gave it what I had. I ran out of gas a little bit far from the line, but Mike is an ace sprinter, and even though Ed jumped right on his wheel, he couldn't come around him.

There were a lot of attacks, but nothing really go anywhere. Usually one or two guys would get a little gap, and then someone would think, "oh, that looks promising" and bridge up, and then someone else, until there were 4 or 5 guys and one team or another decided that was too threatening and chased it down. The right combination never developed and it was a bunch sprint for the finish. I ended up somewhere mid-pack, and we all got the same time for GC purposes.

Stage 3:
The 50-mile road race started under the threat of rain! Summer had gone to fall and then Winter in the space of two days. Sure enough, once we started riding, the rain started falling. The pace was ok, but everyone took it easy because the roads were extremely slick. And for some reason, foamy. Coming down one hill into a corner, I was trying to brake and locked up my back wheel. I barely recovered to avoid crashing, but because of that and my fall a few weeks before, I was a little shaken.

I tried to ease off the front just before the wall, but no one was letting anything go, so I was passed and then gapped by the top. Coming around passed the start-finish, I seriously considered pulling out. A little while later, I did, because I had lost motivation to ride in the crappy weather, and I had lost my nerve to ride in a pack with the crappy conditions.

So, I decided to call it a race, and a season, a season ending with a DNF for the second straight year.

A great story came my way courtesy of one of the many cycling mailing lists I subscribe to:

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So there I was, spinning along Paradise Loop ride in Marin this afternoon, when I noticed a very recognizable armada of blue kits coming the other way. And tailing along with them was a collection of about six other guys with Bay Area team outfits. So after hesitating for a couple of moments as I considered how fred-like it would be to turn around and jump on their train, I did just that. Fortunately, they were going pretty easy and I was able to attach myself to the back after only about a half-mile of work. I found myself filtering up through the double line of Posties -- George, Eki, Jose (I think) and the rest of the Spaniards, the whole crew sans Lance -- when Ekimov asked me what I thought about Horner's chances of repeating (as I was in Webcor duds of course). I said the predictable things -- he's had another incredible year, form hasn't quite been there recently, still he's taken time away from racing to peak for this event, but he'll be a marked man, blah, blah, blah. I then congratulated Eki on his TT performance in Athens; he was obviously happy about that, saying that he'd surprised himself, thinking that he was still tired following the Tour. All the while, motorists were honking "hellos" and some were taking photos. So, after about an hour of this, we we rolled into Mill Valley (where I live) just as the guy in front of me was peeling off and I was emerging at the front. Then, as if my ego's press secretary had choreographed it, we passed the high school where my son and his friends happened to be standing. They watched as my new riding buddies and I strolled past. I gave them a nonchalant "hey." Upon realizing that it was me and who I was surrounded by, they just stared with mouths agape. It was one of those rare moments when a group of 15-yr-old-guys -- pants hanging down around their thighs, hats cocked sideways, testosterone levels getting cranked up for the season's first football game that night -- found itself collectively speechless. As I thanked the Posties for letting me tag along, wished them well on Sunday and pulled off, I did so with the knowledge that I'd instantly become the coolest dad in town.

Story Jim Elias (jimelias-at-sbcglobal-dot-com)
(posted with permission - Thanks, Jim!)

Chris and I finally hooked up for a morning ride on Labor Day. I met him at the summit parking lot around 10 (found him asleep in his car blasting reggae). We set out on the following loop: Summit to Bear Creek Road to Hwy 9, over to Zayante to upper Zayante and back on Summit.

Chris flies down the hills, especially when he knows them well. I won't say I was trying to keep up, but I was trying to do a good pace down the hill. On Bear Creek, going into the last turn before Zayante, I got a little nervous at my speed, especially when I couldn't see around the corner-- I didn't know how fast to take it, so I tried braking. I braked too much, and locked up my back wheel. It kicked out and I dropped. I landed hard on my right hip, tearing my shorts but not causing too much bodily damage.

The bike was fine! Chris came back and checked it out, and told me I crashed like a pro, since I protected the bike and didn't put any limbs in harm's way. Acutally, I was a little relieved to have crashed and had it not hurt too bad-- I mean, it's good to get the first really crash out of the way.

I was ok physically, but I was a little amped up from the adrenaline and shock of the fall, so as we continued to descend, I found myself really nervously heading into all the corners, and wanting to brake all the time. My legs were shaking from the shock/rush of the crash. I got slower and slower so that I wouldn't panic and lock it up again.

My hip/leg/butt where I had the road rash was burning a little, and the leg tightened up when I didn't use it for a while, coasting, for example.

We kept riding and finished our loop. Chris had a flat, and I dropped him on the Zayante climb (only time I've ever done that-- it's because he's been sick). I figured I wouldn't get many chances to do that, so I just went for it.

When I got home it took Naomi a few minutes to realize I'd biffed it. She was mad at me for a few minutes for being late, and then became very supportive again. The worst part was ruining the $80 pair of Ultra Sensors. Well, cleaning the road dirt and sweat out after two hours of riding wasn't fun either. But I eventually did and it started to feel better. I even dropped trou at the BBQ later that day to show off my wounds.

Race: San Ardo Road Race
Date: September 4, 2004
Field: about 35
Teammates: Mike Holt (4th)
Distance: 70 miles*
Weather: 60-80 degrees
Place: 19

Terse:
Rode 65 miles of really smart and efficient racing. Counter attacked with about 5 miles to go and blew myself up. Stayed with the pack but had nothing left in the sprint.

Verbose:
The course is a ~23 mile loop, nearly all flat. *The race flyer says it's 63 miles, but actual race distance is around 70 miles. (This actually screwed me up a little later, because my speed sensor was iffy all day, so I didn't have an accurate idea of how far off the finish was when I attacked.) There are some minor bumps, but they are short, and it's all 20-MPH big-ring stuff.

The first lap started out mellow. A couple guys got away. My friend Ed was riding with me again, and he was nervous about AV getting someone away and then blocking like they did last year (he was second, while Alan Armstrong soloed away for the win). So, when AV a guy away for a little while, he and his teammate when to the front and made sure they got brought back. I hung around the front, but didn't take any pulls for the back side of lap 1, and it was nice to have a clear view of the race and limited yo-yo'ing.

The feed zone was right at the start of the second lap, so I tucked a water bottle in my jersey to take on an extra, just in case. As is the norm, the feed zone was at the start of a climb, and just after there was a little pressure on the front and there was a slight split in the race. I was feeling fine and had no problem getting around some guys who were falling off. I don't think there was any permanent split. Someone attacked and would stay off-the-front for almost a full lap before we caught him.

We went through the town each lap, and a lot of local kids were yelling for water bottles, so the next time through, a lot of us obliged.

The last time through the feed zone I didn't take on any water, cos I was doing fine and had plenty in reserve. I'd been continuously drinking and it wasn't too hot.

The pace up the little hills the third time through was not as fast as the previous time. Near the top of the brief stair-step climbs, Mike shot off the front, so I quickly went with him, just in case he had something up his sleeve. He told me it was just too slow, so he was putting a little pressure on.

A funny moment occured when the AV riders who were on the front almost got on the freeway. I admit, the turn to the onramp looked a lot like the actual turn a few hundred meteres later. We gave them some good-natured ribbing. The field being somewhat small and the course not too devastating, the mood was pretty upbeat all day, which was nice. Lot of chatting and joking going on. It's easier to get someone to let you into a pace line if you've been chatting with them earlier!

Another satisfying moment was when I heard another rider telling Ed that I should get the wheelsucker of the day award, because I was "always in the top 5 but never takes a long pull." Perfect! It's taken me a long time to figure out how to stay near the front but stay out of the wind.

Anyway, on the back side, with maybe 8-10 miles to go, Mike attacked a few times, but I think people are on to him now, so they covered. After one particular attack that required a more prolonged chase, I decided to counter attack as the catch was made. With about 5 miles to go, it was a perfectly-timed move! Perfectly timed to blow me up completely without enough time to recover. I've come to the conclusion that I don't have the power to sustain a solo effort for long enough to get away in a race like this. In a break, I think I would have been ok, but not on my own.

What I should have done was used the attack as a probe, and then if anyone had gone with me, then worked. As soon as I was alone, I should have sat up, but I didn't.

I was caught about a mile later, and I hung on to the bunch and tried to recover. As we went throught the starting area we had maybe 1/2 mile to go, and I was feeling better. The finish was on a slight uphill followed by a left turn and about 200m to the finish. As soon as the pace picked up on the hill, I was dead. The legs had nothing, and it was all I could do to hang on as the contenders went around the corner, pulling away.

Ed won, Mike got 4th, and I ended up 19th.

I was very, very frustrated after the race, knowing I was riding so well for so long and then I blew it with a dumb attack. I guess the only good lesson learned is that I shouldn't try to attack solo from that far out. It was a painful lesson, though, because I think I could have had a good finish in this race.

Date: Tuesday, August 31
Race: SJBC Circuit A-race

It's the last Tuesday night race of the year, so I decided to take one more crack at the A's... provided that the local pros that sometimes show up don't show up.

So, I got to the line and they weren't there, so I resigned myself to suffering for 10 laps with the A's. And then just before we were about to roll out, a couple pros showed up. Ouch. Too late to back out now!

The race was actually pretty mellow for the first 3 or 4 laps, before the attacks started coming. I was able to hang on to the main pack. A few guys got free, but there was enough firepower left to bring them back.

At one point, though, I got gapped on the hill and had to chase. But then I realized that it was Mike H. and a few other of our best guys up the road, and that I was pulling Bendy Man up to them. So I just kinda of eased off. If he wanted to catch them, *he* was gonna have to do it. I heard him cursing a bit, but eventually he charged around me and up to the leading group.

With two to go, got gapped again, and this time Bob was with me. He yelled something encouraging, and so I thought to myself, okay, I'll work for Bob and pull him back up to the group. I worked hard for half a lap and brought us up to the field. I thought my day was done.

But I was able to keep with the front group for the rest of the way, and was in the top few places nearing the finish line. I waited and waited, and finally when a couple of guys jumped around me into the final hill, I jumped and tried to stay with them. Actually, they cracked and I went by them, but then a few guys caught me from behind near the top as I faded, including Bendy Man and Mike H. Another SJBCer took 3rd, and I was 4th.

After taking 4th in the As, with the quality of riders that were there, I was in a good mood the rest of the day!