Monday, September 27, 2004
Vuelta de San Jose
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.
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.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
"Pullin' for the Posties" - a guest entry
A great story came my way courtesy of one of the many cycling mailing lists I subscribe to:
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!)
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!)
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Bear Creek Road Rash
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.
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.
Sunday, September 05, 2004
Hard lessons at San Ardo
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: 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.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Bringing it home
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!
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!
Monday, August 30, 2004
Winters Road Race
Race: Winters RR, Cat 4
Date: 8/28/04
Field: 66
Teammates: Mike Holt (1st)
Distance: 72.8 gruelling miles
Weather: 80-100+
Place: otb (30)
Course is 3 loops of about 24 miles (after the promenade out of town). First 5 miles flat, then about 5 rolling, then a ~600' climb in 3 parts, top part ~10%, descent, then flat to the finish.
Short version:
Off the back.
Slightly longer version:
Hung on with little problem for the first lap. Got dropped on the hill on the second lap, but managed to chase back on about 10-15 miles later. Got dropped for good on the rollers preceding the 3rd climb. Rolled in much later.
Full version:
Got more pre-race sleep than usual (about 4 hours), which was promising. I was not expecting to do well in this race, since I think I peaked about a month ago, but I thought I'd make one more buildup before the end of the year. This was part of that.
As we pulled, Ed noticed a couple of cuties and said, "hey, let's park next to the cute french girls!" I was in agreement. Then I thought to ask, "wait, Ed, how did you know they were French
"Oh, I've seen them before at the track." Apparently, they are the LaFleur sisters, and they certainly are adorable. Anyway...
After the longest check-in line of the season was the longest port-a-potty line of the season. The good part was that I noticed (Olympian) Christine Thornburn of Webcor in line behind me. But the bad part is that I didn't get a chance to congratulate her on her Olympic rides because, hey, who wants to shake hands with a guy who just came out of the portapotty?
At the start in historic downtown Winters, another Olympian sighting at the line-up for the start: Levi Leipheimer was in the field. Cool.
As our group got up to the line, the ref had just gotten through explaining that the start was neutralized until X point, when a genius from McGuire attacked from the gun. Whatever, let him cook. We set of around 18-20 mph for a while before someone decided it was time to start racing, so the pace quickly kicked up to 30+ on a long tailwind section. Hitting the rollers, we had the McGuire guy in sight, but it gave me some satisfaction that the field let him sit a few hundred meters off the front for a while before bringing him back.
The pack was moving fast, but not insanely fast on the rollers and the first time up the hill. It hurt. I wondered why the heck I do this. (Is it really better than Saturday morning cartoons?) And on top of that, my back was already giving me trouble, and I couldn't get it to relax.
The descent had several sketchy turns on it, so I felt most comfortable keeping a bit of space from others. Some guys passed me, I passed some. I wasn't in the lead group or anything, but part of a long line of riders that all regrouped once we got off the hill.
At the start of the second lap, my friend Ed decided to stop for a natural break and chase back on. I told him I didn't think it would be that easy to get back on, but I guess he really had to go. I didn't see him until a few hours later.
I stayed in the main field until the second time up the hill. I wasn't really expecting to stay with them on the hill, so the feed zone chaos didn't really faze me. I got some water and climbed at my own tempo over the top. Descending this time, without too many around was a lot less stressful. This time I was decidedly NOT part of any long line of riders.
I had pretty much resigned myself to being off the back and dropping out. But then a couple of guys caught me, and I went with them for a while, but I wasn't feeling that motivated, so I let them go. Then a few more guys caught me, and I was feeling better, so we worked well for a while. There was a McGuire guy who refused to work, except when he pointlessly sprinted up to the front every once in a while then dropped back. I had had just about enough of this chasing, so I eased off the gas and prepared to spin back to the finish, and then another group caught us. Crap, gotta chase again. The cycling gods were telling me to hang on.
So, I took part in the chase, which took for-effing-ever until we finally caught the group again on the long flat tailwind section. Ah, so this is what the later part of the race looks like. The field was definitely reduced at this point.
Third time around the course, it was getting really hot. I was getting very thirsty. I was just losing power, and I got gapped on one of the rollers leading up to the hill. I kept going, my main motivation to keep going was to make it to the feed zone and get a couple more bottles of water (but I also wanted to beat Ed). I've never appreciated a neutral feed as much as I did that day.
That third time up the hill it was really blazing. There was no wind, and it was a little steep for my 39/23. Then, sent straight down from the heavens, a man... with a garden hose. I thought about just having him douse me, but then I saw someone getting a water refill, and so I went for that, too. Then I told him, 'hit me on my way out!', which he did (Note to self: lube drivetrain). That kept me going, and I don't think I would have made it to the finish without it. I don't think I saw another cat 4 rider the rest of the race.
The last 10 miles or so were not noteworthy. I held a reasonable pace for a while, then my foot cramped up. I tried loosening my shoes, unclicking, everything but taking off my shoe, but nothing helped. Between that and my ornery back, I totally eased off. I think I came home at about 15 mph. I was passed by out-of-shape-looking recreational cyclists.
I'm pretty sure no one was paying attention when I finished, so I'll be surprised if I got picked.
Ed was waiting at the finish. He had almost given up on me, but fortunately he didn't go off looking for me because I was desperate for water. I went through 6 bottles during the race, and quickly downed a quart of gatorade and a quart of water once we got back in the car.
Turns out Ed chased like hell after his pee-break, and just barely caught the group before the climb and was totally gassed, so he dropped out.
Additional reflections:
What is it with McGuire? They were the worst center-line offenders of the race, in addition to the knucklehead of the day award for the guy who attacked during the promenade and the guy who wouldn't work in our chase group.
I liked the course, at least as far as the profile goes. I can see myself doing well on it, maybe next year But the course is tough because it is one lane all the way. It is really hard to move up at all. It is a lot of work just to pass a few riders. So I think I did well to get to the front early (just after the start), and when we rejoined the pack (rolled through the downsized pack to near the front).
Brief note on field size: Mike said 50- I know the pre-reg numbers were 401-466, so at least 66 signed up, and I saw as high as 491 on the course. I don't know how many actually started, and Mike's estimate of 50 is as good as any. I just hope it was more, because then I won't feel as bad.
Finally, I started to reflect on whether I will continue to race open 4's or master's 4's next year, since I will have that option. I think that next year, if I feel better than I did this year (i.e. I have continued to improve), I'll keep racing with the cat 4's, but if I'm not any better, I'll ride with the 35+ crowd and hopefully have a little more fun. The races are also shorter, which might help me. My mileage this year has been a little low for a cat 4, I think.
Date: 8/28/04
Field: 66
Teammates: Mike Holt (1st)
Distance: 72.8 gruelling miles
Weather: 80-100+
Place: otb (30)
Course is 3 loops of about 24 miles (after the promenade out of town). First 5 miles flat, then about 5 rolling, then a ~600' climb in 3 parts, top part ~10%, descent, then flat to the finish.
Short version:
Off the back.
Slightly longer version:
Hung on with little problem for the first lap. Got dropped on the hill on the second lap, but managed to chase back on about 10-15 miles later. Got dropped for good on the rollers preceding the 3rd climb. Rolled in much later.
Full version:
Got more pre-race sleep than usual (about 4 hours), which was promising. I was not expecting to do well in this race, since I think I peaked about a month ago, but I thought I'd make one more buildup before the end of the year. This was part of that.
As we pulled, Ed noticed a couple of cuties and said, "hey, let's park next to the cute french girls!" I was in agreement. Then I thought to ask, "wait, Ed, how did you know they were French
"Oh, I've seen them before at the track." Apparently, they are the LaFleur sisters, and they certainly are adorable. Anyway...
After the longest check-in line of the season was the longest port-a-potty line of the season. The good part was that I noticed (Olympian) Christine Thornburn of Webcor in line behind me. But the bad part is that I didn't get a chance to congratulate her on her Olympic rides because, hey, who wants to shake hands with a guy who just came out of the portapotty?
At the start in historic downtown Winters, another Olympian sighting at the line-up for the start: Levi Leipheimer was in the field. Cool.
As our group got up to the line, the ref had just gotten through explaining that the start was neutralized until X point, when a genius from McGuire attacked from the gun. Whatever, let him cook. We set of around 18-20 mph for a while before someone decided it was time to start racing, so the pace quickly kicked up to 30+ on a long tailwind section. Hitting the rollers, we had the McGuire guy in sight, but it gave me some satisfaction that the field let him sit a few hundred meters off the front for a while before bringing him back.
The pack was moving fast, but not insanely fast on the rollers and the first time up the hill. It hurt. I wondered why the heck I do this. (Is it really better than Saturday morning cartoons?) And on top of that, my back was already giving me trouble, and I couldn't get it to relax.
The descent had several sketchy turns on it, so I felt most comfortable keeping a bit of space from others. Some guys passed me, I passed some. I wasn't in the lead group or anything, but part of a long line of riders that all regrouped once we got off the hill.
At the start of the second lap, my friend Ed decided to stop for a natural break and chase back on. I told him I didn't think it would be that easy to get back on, but I guess he really had to go. I didn't see him until a few hours later.
I stayed in the main field until the second time up the hill. I wasn't really expecting to stay with them on the hill, so the feed zone chaos didn't really faze me. I got some water and climbed at my own tempo over the top. Descending this time, without too many around was a lot less stressful. This time I was decidedly NOT part of any long line of riders.
I had pretty much resigned myself to being off the back and dropping out. But then a couple of guys caught me, and I went with them for a while, but I wasn't feeling that motivated, so I let them go. Then a few more guys caught me, and I was feeling better, so we worked well for a while. There was a McGuire guy who refused to work, except when he pointlessly sprinted up to the front every once in a while then dropped back. I had had just about enough of this chasing, so I eased off the gas and prepared to spin back to the finish, and then another group caught us. Crap, gotta chase again. The cycling gods were telling me to hang on.
So, I took part in the chase, which took for-effing-ever until we finally caught the group again on the long flat tailwind section. Ah, so this is what the later part of the race looks like. The field was definitely reduced at this point.
Third time around the course, it was getting really hot. I was getting very thirsty. I was just losing power, and I got gapped on one of the rollers leading up to the hill. I kept going, my main motivation to keep going was to make it to the feed zone and get a couple more bottles of water (but I also wanted to beat Ed). I've never appreciated a neutral feed as much as I did that day.
That third time up the hill it was really blazing. There was no wind, and it was a little steep for my 39/23. Then, sent straight down from the heavens, a man... with a garden hose. I thought about just having him douse me, but then I saw someone getting a water refill, and so I went for that, too. Then I told him, 'hit me on my way out!', which he did (Note to self: lube drivetrain). That kept me going, and I don't think I would have made it to the finish without it. I don't think I saw another cat 4 rider the rest of the race.
The last 10 miles or so were not noteworthy. I held a reasonable pace for a while, then my foot cramped up. I tried loosening my shoes, unclicking, everything but taking off my shoe, but nothing helped. Between that and my ornery back, I totally eased off. I think I came home at about 15 mph. I was passed by out-of-shape-looking recreational cyclists.
I'm pretty sure no one was paying attention when I finished, so I'll be surprised if I got picked.
Ed was waiting at the finish. He had almost given up on me, but fortunately he didn't go off looking for me because I was desperate for water. I went through 6 bottles during the race, and quickly downed a quart of gatorade and a quart of water once we got back in the car.
Turns out Ed chased like hell after his pee-break, and just barely caught the group before the climb and was totally gassed, so he dropped out.
Additional reflections:
What is it with McGuire? They were the worst center-line offenders of the race, in addition to the knucklehead of the day award for the guy who attacked during the promenade and the guy who wouldn't work in our chase group.
I liked the course, at least as far as the profile goes. I can see myself doing well on it, maybe next year But the course is tough because it is one lane all the way. It is really hard to move up at all. It is a lot of work just to pass a few riders. So I think I did well to get to the front early (just after the start), and when we rejoined the pack (rolled through the downsized pack to near the front).
Brief note on field size: Mike said 50- I know the pre-reg numbers were 401-466, so at least 66 signed up, and I saw as high as 491 on the course. I don't know how many actually started, and Mike's estimate of 50 is as good as any. I just hope it was more, because then I won't feel as bad.
Finally, I started to reflect on whether I will continue to race open 4's or master's 4's next year, since I will have that option. I think that next year, if I feel better than I did this year (i.e. I have continued to improve), I'll keep racing with the cat 4's, but if I'm not any better, I'll ride with the 35+ crowd and hopefully have a little more fun. The races are also shorter, which might help me. My mileage this year has been a little low for a cat 4, I think.
Saturday, August 21, 2004
More Climbing
Saturday I didn't feel up to the group ride. I was interested in doing more climbing than we'd end up doing in the group ride, and at a more steady pace.
I slept in because Naomi and I have been sacrificing sleep to watch Olympics, and set out around 11. I rode to Shannon and up & over Kennedy in about 9 minutes (from Shannon/Hicks to the summit), about a minute slower than my best, almost in Zone 3&4, so a strong, but not maximum effort.
Next, over to Saratoga. I wasn't really pushing it much, and it took me almost an hour to get there (~15 miles). Even though I was not feeling like doing it, I tackled the Hwy 9 climb up to Skyline. Took me 42, minutes working hard, but not all-out, and not feeling that great, so I guess I can't complain. That's about a 230-250W effort. There's a very convenient hot dog stand at the top that sells cold drinks. I settled for a Fruit Punch since they didn't have any lemonade.
The descent was awesome. Near the top, where it's curvy, I kept pace with traffic, and a car actually decided to pull over and let me pass rather than speed up (they caught me later when the road straightened out). The thrill of the descent energized me for the rest of the ride home.
Even though it was only 45 miles or so, it was pretty tiring. But I think I got what I needed out of the workout.
Ed is racing a lot of the upcoming races, so I think I'll join him, and try to peak one more time for the club Vuelta, and then hold it for the first two TT's in the Winter Series before going into winter mode.
I slept in because Naomi and I have been sacrificing sleep to watch Olympics, and set out around 11. I rode to Shannon and up & over Kennedy in about 9 minutes (from Shannon/Hicks to the summit), about a minute slower than my best, almost in Zone 3&4, so a strong, but not maximum effort.
Next, over to Saratoga. I wasn't really pushing it much, and it took me almost an hour to get there (~15 miles). Even though I was not feeling like doing it, I tackled the Hwy 9 climb up to Skyline. Took me 42, minutes working hard, but not all-out, and not feeling that great, so I guess I can't complain. That's about a 230-250W effort. There's a very convenient hot dog stand at the top that sells cold drinks. I settled for a Fruit Punch since they didn't have any lemonade.
The descent was awesome. Near the top, where it's curvy, I kept pace with traffic, and a car actually decided to pull over and let me pass rather than speed up (they caught me later when the road straightened out). The thrill of the descent energized me for the rest of the ride home.
Even though it was only 45 miles or so, it was pretty tiring. But I think I got what I needed out of the workout.
Ed is racing a lot of the upcoming races, so I think I'll join him, and try to peak one more time for the club Vuelta, and then hold it for the first two TT's in the Winter Series before going into winter mode.
