The past few days, my scheduled training managed to get back on track. The persistent rains earlier this month held my cycling hours well below plan. After finishing the duathlon, I headed back out around the bike course in reverse direction, enjoying the scenery and fantastic weather. This brought my mileage for the day up to 60K, and since I spun along at a snail's pace, my cycling hours up to two. Sunday brought another lovely day, and I got out for a leisurely 95K, 3.5 hour zone 1 jaunt down through Lakeville and the Long Point Causeway across Great Quittacas Pond. Monday was up to KL's and the New Hampton training center where, despite her bellyaching about fatigue from Montreal, she managed to force the pace on every climb during our 2.5 hour ride along the western shore of Lake Winnipasukee and past Newfound Lake. As this was the first really warm day of the year, I seemed to feel it and finished that ride totally spent.
Tuesday night brought me back to Wompatuck. I managed to get there without being stopped by the gendarmes this week, and was on the bike by 5:45. With most of the big boys down at the pro races leading up to Philly, the herd was a bit thinner, maybe 35 riders. This kept it lively as there was lots of room to move around, and we stayed pretty stretched out most of the night. After doing the first five laps or so up front, I retreated to further back for a bit. Towards the end, I tried something new and just went to the front and kept attacking repeatedly. Never got anywhere, so I was either marked or slow, but I figured I might as well push the limits of my recovery, so as soon as I caught my breath I'd go again. After all, this is a training race. The last lap was uneventful, but the Coast juniors are a bit annoying. They seem to like to hold little team meetings in the middle of the bunch, and they can't seem to talk without looking over at one another, and swerving around in the process. With good youthful acceleration, they jump on every move, but then do nothing when they get there. Maybe they were just trying to keep it together, as one of them won the field sprint, but that doesn't make it any less annoying.
So tonight I'll only need about an hour and a half easy spin in order to just make my May minimum bike hours goal of 40. That's not too bad, considering the crappy weather and the number of races that were on the calendar. Right now I feel pretty strong and fit, but it will take more focused, specific training to make gains from here, as the low hanging fruit has already been picked. The next few weekends I do not have any races planned, so after a few easy days I might start piling on some good stuff.
Of course, the duathlon got me excited, and despite my intention of tabling the running for the summer, I still checked over the multi-sport calendar to see if anything interesting loomed on the horizon. I found the weekend after next, the Fly by Night Duathlon was scheduled to take place on the racetrack at Watkins Glen in New York. This is an evening event, which might make travel a bit easier, although WG is quite a haul from here. The last time I was there was in 1980, for the very last Formula 1 US Grand Prix ever held at the Glen. Alan Jones won driving for Saudia-Williams. This was also the last year of full ground effects cars, with sliding side skirts that stayed in contact with the ground to seal off the airfoil bottom. It got so crazy that these cars could take corners at 120 mph that they could not take at 100 mph, because the downforce was less. This led to the flat-bottom rule and elimination of the skirts.
The trip to the Glen was my first real vacation. My girlfriend and I first drove our 1978 Ford Fiesta S down to Martinsville, Virginia for the Old Dominion 500 stock car race. NASCAR was not quite what it was today. To give you some idea of how long ago this was, that was the last year of the 115 inch wheelbase cars, and the minimum weight was still 3700 pounds. Rookie driver Dale Earnhardt made a lot of noise and won that weekend. After Martinsville, we headed to Virginia Beach for a few days before making the trip up to New York, switching gears to F1 the following weekend. A three day infield pass to the Glen was $27 then. We splurged and spent an additional $65 for paddock passes and seats on the roof of the Lotus pit, looking right down on owner Colin Chapman and driver Mario Andretti. We had full access to the garage area too. I took some awesome pictures, but since my girlfriend was none too happy about our breakup years later, I have none of them. I do still have a souvenier t-shirt around here somewhere, but I am totally bummed that, because of being tapped out on cash, I missed a chance for the best keepsake. You see, after the race, we filed out right through the garage where the teams worked. Well, in F1, at least at that time, the mechanics literally sold the shirts right off their backs! I could have bought an authentic team Ferrari mechanics shirt, grease stains, sponsor patches, and all, for $20! Sadly we needed all the money we had left for gas to get home, and had to pass.
There you have it. More nostalgia from solobreak. This is too long already, or I might give you a rundown of other car racing tracks where I have raced my bike, such as Loudon (road course), Lee, Thompson, and Star Speedways, and even the 'cross race I promoted at Seekonk. Maybe some other time... Thanks for reading.
since 2006
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Do the Locomotion
Because Du the Locomotion was just too cheesy. I just got the call from Montreal, and KL finished the World Cup race! Tales of her adventure should be on her site in a day or two. As for the Rye Duathlon, that went pretty well, with a few twists. The results were up on Coolrunning.com as soon as I got home. The trail runs were nastier than what I expected. They were only about half in the woods, where it was a twisty, muddy, parcours which had been improved with copious quantities of wood chips and even some sheets of particle board on the muddiest sections. There were some big undulations, and I tweaked a quad a bit on the first run.
The temperature was also a surprise. Arriving at the race early (another first), the fog was so thick I barely found the place. By race time the sun had burned through on most of the course, and it was pretty warm. Part of the run course looped back and forth on what can best be described as a vacant lot. It was pretty hot there. The bike course was a big rectangle along the ocean. The more inland of the two long roads had some tiny elevation changes, and it was warmer there. The road along the beach was pancake flat, and it was at least 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the course. The wind was pretty much a non-issue too. There was a big seawall on our left the entire 15k or so along the water, and what wind there was seemed to be from the right anyway. The mist and fog down on the beach section eventually forced me to remove my glasses, but I don't need them to see, just for eye protection. This was a FAST bike course.
There were 253 duathletes on the results list, plus relay teams, and a few people just doing the 5k run too. I found Dr. Bigs at the start, and we lined up near the front. The run started with about 2k on the road before turning into the mucky trail. I started fast (for me) but was easily outclassed by many runners. Somewhere early on I tweaked my quad, but I kept up a good pace using Clif's "count to 20" technique. The results showed me 34th for the first run, with a time of 20:12. I don't think the 5K distance was legit, as on these trails there is no way I would run that fast. For reference, the fastest runner ran a 16:53, so maybe I didn't run so badly after all.
I made a decent transition. Friday night I had picked up a pair of speed laces, so I had that going for me. I used my Carnac MTB shoes with ATACs, as they are quick to put on and better for the mandatory run out of the transition. I was running out behind four barefoot athletes. We were required to run all the way out, and then when you hit pavement you could mount your bike. The course was only about 4 meters wide at that point. With their shoes hanging from their pedals, all four of these guys ran to the edge and stopped to put on their shoes, all fanned out across the road. I barely make it in between them as I jumped on my bike (almost a flying Litka). Time waster dudes! The official timers don't break out the transition, but for the first one I clicked in my own splits and it was 1:15 from the time I crossed the run chip mat until I was clipped in and riding.
My legs didn't feel too well when I first started out on the bike. As noted a few days ago, I was riding my plain old Specialized from the eighties. This was not as bad as it sounds. On the back I had a HED disc wheel. The freewheel (yes, not a cassette, an old fashion freewheel) had only 7 cogs on it, but this was 4 more than I actually used. Since this bike has 6-speed downtube shifters, I had to put it in friction mode because I was too lazy to swap out the cluster. The first 10k or so I rode in the 16 cog, over a few little rollers, passing several riders, and searching for my legs. Around mile 3 I could see a small group of 6-8 racers who looked to be blatantly ignoring the no drafting rule. It took me a few miles to catch this bunch. When I did, I made sure to fly by them decisively to keep them off my wheel. I never looked back, but they all finished the bike leg with amazingly similar times, about 30 seconds behind me, so I have to think the TTT kept going right until the end.
The course then led to Route 1A, where it traveled along the beach in Rye. The fog had not yet lifted along this section, where it was noticeably cooler than the more inland road. I got it rolling in the 15 cog and just left it there. I thought the bike leg was 18 miles, so when I passed mile marker 9 at 21:35 I started calcing in my head that if I doubled my transition time and added it in, I would end up with a bike/transition split of nearly 46 minutes. I knew the fastest from last year was 45 minutes, so I tried to pick it up. I do a lot of that kind of thinking in a TT, or whenever I ride for that matter. Along those lines, I considered that since the run/bike/run was "symmetrical" then in theory anyone I passed from that point on would likely catch me on run 2, and anyone I had already passed would not catch me. Of course this only works out in theory, or else we could just stop at halfway and call it a race.
The last few miles of the bike course headed back inland. There was a slight wind and grade over this section, and near the end I cooled it a bit to get ready for the run. I forgot to self-time my second transition, as I was more concerned with wowing the transition crowd and obtaining maximum style points for my full speed side-saddle cyclocross dismount. Applauding my grace, agility, and athleticism (anyone who has seen me stumble my way around a cross course should be laughing pretty hard right now) they told me I was in 7th. I was out of there quickly and I crossed the chip mat marking the beginning of the run with an official bike/transitions split of 45:23, which ended up tieing for 4th fastest, 2:23 off the best. Subtracting my transitions, I think this works out to around 38 kph (23.5 mph) average, depending on what the actual length of the course really was.
Heading out on the second run, I was immediately passed by a Dartmouth College kid. I could hear others right behind me too. I wondered where they came from, as no one had passed me on the bike, and I had flown by most of the competitors early on, even though I came from a minute or two behind them. So it stood to reason I would have taken considerable time out of them during the remaining 2/3 of the bike leg. Maybe I should have ridden harder, and some of them may have preceded me into the transition too. The second run was the same loop as the first, but run in the oppposite direction. Four or five guys passed me right away on the out and back portion across the now broiling vacant lot. The Dartmouth kid had troubles here too, and when I re-passed him, he looked like death. Heading back into the woods, I found my legs and started to run pretty well. I was all alone most of the way through. The trail was too twisty to see those who were ahead, and no one was behind me. Eventually two runners came up from behind. I tried to hold them off, but then right at the end of the woods, there was one unmarked turn and I went the wrong way, then had to backtrack a dozen steps to get back on course. I tried to stay with these guys, but back on the pavement for the finish stretch, they pulled away. My second run split came out to 21:14, which like my the first split was 34th. My official finish time of 1:26:50 put me in 13th overall, 9:03 behind winner Corey Boilard. Dr. Bigs finished just a few seconds behind me.
I was hoping for a top 10 overall, and a first or second on the bike portion, but I had to be satisfied with where I ended up. With no duathlon experience, this was probably more than I should have expected. These competitors were tough, much, much better than me on the runs, and they held their own on the bike. I was drained, but the feeling was not the same as after a 40k TT bike TT. It would probably take a lot more experience to determine just how hard I could ride and still be able to finish the second run without falling apart. Maybe I did this just about right. Thanks for reading!
The temperature was also a surprise. Arriving at the race early (another first), the fog was so thick I barely found the place. By race time the sun had burned through on most of the course, and it was pretty warm. Part of the run course looped back and forth on what can best be described as a vacant lot. It was pretty hot there. The bike course was a big rectangle along the ocean. The more inland of the two long roads had some tiny elevation changes, and it was warmer there. The road along the beach was pancake flat, and it was at least 10 degrees cooler than the rest of the course. The wind was pretty much a non-issue too. There was a big seawall on our left the entire 15k or so along the water, and what wind there was seemed to be from the right anyway. The mist and fog down on the beach section eventually forced me to remove my glasses, but I don't need them to see, just for eye protection. This was a FAST bike course.
There were 253 duathletes on the results list, plus relay teams, and a few people just doing the 5k run too. I found Dr. Bigs at the start, and we lined up near the front. The run started with about 2k on the road before turning into the mucky trail. I started fast (for me) but was easily outclassed by many runners. Somewhere early on I tweaked my quad, but I kept up a good pace using Clif's "count to 20" technique. The results showed me 34th for the first run, with a time of 20:12. I don't think the 5K distance was legit, as on these trails there is no way I would run that fast. For reference, the fastest runner ran a 16:53, so maybe I didn't run so badly after all.
I made a decent transition. Friday night I had picked up a pair of speed laces, so I had that going for me. I used my Carnac MTB shoes with ATACs, as they are quick to put on and better for the mandatory run out of the transition. I was running out behind four barefoot athletes. We were required to run all the way out, and then when you hit pavement you could mount your bike. The course was only about 4 meters wide at that point. With their shoes hanging from their pedals, all four of these guys ran to the edge and stopped to put on their shoes, all fanned out across the road. I barely make it in between them as I jumped on my bike (almost a flying Litka). Time waster dudes! The official timers don't break out the transition, but for the first one I clicked in my own splits and it was 1:15 from the time I crossed the run chip mat until I was clipped in and riding.
My legs didn't feel too well when I first started out on the bike. As noted a few days ago, I was riding my plain old Specialized from the eighties. This was not as bad as it sounds. On the back I had a HED disc wheel. The freewheel (yes, not a cassette, an old fashion freewheel) had only 7 cogs on it, but this was 4 more than I actually used. Since this bike has 6-speed downtube shifters, I had to put it in friction mode because I was too lazy to swap out the cluster. The first 10k or so I rode in the 16 cog, over a few little rollers, passing several riders, and searching for my legs. Around mile 3 I could see a small group of 6-8 racers who looked to be blatantly ignoring the no drafting rule. It took me a few miles to catch this bunch. When I did, I made sure to fly by them decisively to keep them off my wheel. I never looked back, but they all finished the bike leg with amazingly similar times, about 30 seconds behind me, so I have to think the TTT kept going right until the end.
The course then led to Route 1A, where it traveled along the beach in Rye. The fog had not yet lifted along this section, where it was noticeably cooler than the more inland road. I got it rolling in the 15 cog and just left it there. I thought the bike leg was 18 miles, so when I passed mile marker 9 at 21:35 I started calcing in my head that if I doubled my transition time and added it in, I would end up with a bike/transition split of nearly 46 minutes. I knew the fastest from last year was 45 minutes, so I tried to pick it up. I do a lot of that kind of thinking in a TT, or whenever I ride for that matter. Along those lines, I considered that since the run/bike/run was "symmetrical" then in theory anyone I passed from that point on would likely catch me on run 2, and anyone I had already passed would not catch me. Of course this only works out in theory, or else we could just stop at halfway and call it a race.
The last few miles of the bike course headed back inland. There was a slight wind and grade over this section, and near the end I cooled it a bit to get ready for the run. I forgot to self-time my second transition, as I was more concerned with wowing the transition crowd and obtaining maximum style points for my full speed side-saddle cyclocross dismount. Applauding my grace, agility, and athleticism (anyone who has seen me stumble my way around a cross course should be laughing pretty hard right now) they told me I was in 7th. I was out of there quickly and I crossed the chip mat marking the beginning of the run with an official bike/transitions split of 45:23, which ended up tieing for 4th fastest, 2:23 off the best. Subtracting my transitions, I think this works out to around 38 kph (23.5 mph) average, depending on what the actual length of the course really was.
Heading out on the second run, I was immediately passed by a Dartmouth College kid. I could hear others right behind me too. I wondered where they came from, as no one had passed me on the bike, and I had flown by most of the competitors early on, even though I came from a minute or two behind them. So it stood to reason I would have taken considerable time out of them during the remaining 2/3 of the bike leg. Maybe I should have ridden harder, and some of them may have preceded me into the transition too. The second run was the same loop as the first, but run in the oppposite direction. Four or five guys passed me right away on the out and back portion across the now broiling vacant lot. The Dartmouth kid had troubles here too, and when I re-passed him, he looked like death. Heading back into the woods, I found my legs and started to run pretty well. I was all alone most of the way through. The trail was too twisty to see those who were ahead, and no one was behind me. Eventually two runners came up from behind. I tried to hold them off, but then right at the end of the woods, there was one unmarked turn and I went the wrong way, then had to backtrack a dozen steps to get back on course. I tried to stay with these guys, but back on the pavement for the finish stretch, they pulled away. My second run split came out to 21:14, which like my the first split was 34th. My official finish time of 1:26:50 put me in 13th overall, 9:03 behind winner Corey Boilard. Dr. Bigs finished just a few seconds behind me.
I was hoping for a top 10 overall, and a first or second on the bike portion, but I had to be satisfied with where I ended up. With no duathlon experience, this was probably more than I should have expected. These competitors were tough, much, much better than me on the runs, and they held their own on the bike. I was drained, but the feeling was not the same as after a 40k TT bike TT. It would probably take a lot more experience to determine just how hard I could ride and still be able to finish the second run without falling apart. Maybe I did this just about right. Thanks for reading!
Friday, May 26, 2006
Reasons to be cheerful, one, two, three
What is this all about? KL took aim at my taste in music, and I think called me old in a roundabout way in her recent post. Ian Dury and the Blockheads New Boots and Panties LP marks the beginning of "new music" to me. Thus, any band debuting in or after the summer of 1979 qualifies as "new" and anything predating this is "old." Why the summer of 1979? I don't know, but this was when I started working, and those of us in the rewinding department at Solar-X spent the day goofing off and listening to WBCN. There was no such thing as "classic rock" in those days. Rock was not old enough to be classic yet. "Oldies" stations played AM hits from the 50's and 60's, and "album oriented" stations played rock, plain rock. Of course, rock faded pretty badly in the mid 70's when everybody good either died or went to rehab, and disco took over the mainstream.
This sad state of affairs allowed punk to score a coup, with the Sex Pistols and The Ramones rising up in New York. "Rock" stations like WBCN weren't quite sure what to do with this new music, but by 1979 they started to work it in to their mix. We listeners weren't quite sure what to do with it either, but since there were about ten of us sharing one radio at Solar-X, we got to argue about music and have fun with it, and for me this is why I remember the times. We learned to love Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Someone clipped a picture of Gruppo Sportivo out of the paper and penned in the names of each of us over the bandmembers, and I don't remember exactly what the joke was, but the picture stayed up on the wall for months, and I remember that too. It would be almost ten years later that I started racing bikes and found out that the "GS" in G.S. Mengoni meant "Grouppo Sportiva." There are so many ways to learn in this world...
Now that we've cleared that up, we have a three day weekend ahead. Tommorow is the Rye Duathlon, which will be the first one I ever do to include road cycling. My running seems to have suffered quite a bit since cycling season has ramped up, so I do not have high hopes for a great placing. It is supposed to be raining too. I feel like if this were a standalone 5K, I could probably suck it up and break 21 minutes tommorow, especially since the last time I ran a 5K was in February and it was 18 degrees (F) outside and I was totally hung over and I managed a 20:30 or something. With two 5K's to run though, with 28K of bike time-trialing in between, this is new ground for me. It is hard to judge from the past results, because at this race I don't think the distances are certified, and the run is mostly on dirt, and besides, they don't break the transition times out. So we'll just have to have fun and see how it goes. No Cervelo P3 for me either. I am going to ride my 20 year old Specialized, resplendent with its friction downtube shifters and quill stem. I will have an old disc wheel and some Scott clipons, as well as a modern front wheel, but it should still be fun to go flying by people decked out with the latest aero speed weaponry. I'll report tommorow.
You might also wonder if this marks the beginning of a multi-sport career? With the one, two, three title, am I hinting at a possible triathlon? Uhhh, no. The ocean and me don't get along too well. In fact, the last time I swam in one, all members of the Ramones, the Clash, and Sex Pistols were still alive. I got washed out by the undertow and nearly preceded Joey and company to the grave, which pretty much sums up why it was the last time I swam in the ocean. A few days before that, I got stung by a jellyfish, so that didn't help either, and that makes two good reasons to stay on dry land.
Not that I am not just a little bit tri-curious. We have one in the lake over in Sharon, and nearly all of my training rides pass by there, so I would have a home town advantage. I would still need to start swimming though, and I don't see that ever happening. There is also an interesting looking triathlon in Kennebunkport, Maine. I know the bike course and it is pretty cool. Swimming in Maine though? Not me. The water temps here in the Northeast are a strong third reason why you won't find me frolicking in the waves. If you should ever find me in the water off the coast of Maine, you can safely assume that the boat I was on has just sunk, or possibly I pulled an Uncle Ted and drove off a bridge.
Bike racing is not going to get rid of me just yet. This weekend will be fun and a nice way to end my winter running program. After that bike racing will be all business. Hope you all have a great weekend, alchohol free or otherwise. Maybe a big long ride on Monday, we shall see. Thanks for reading.
This sad state of affairs allowed punk to score a coup, with the Sex Pistols and The Ramones rising up in New York. "Rock" stations like WBCN weren't quite sure what to do with this new music, but by 1979 they started to work it in to their mix. We listeners weren't quite sure what to do with it either, but since there were about ten of us sharing one radio at Solar-X, we got to argue about music and have fun with it, and for me this is why I remember the times. We learned to love Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Someone clipped a picture of Gruppo Sportivo out of the paper and penned in the names of each of us over the bandmembers, and I don't remember exactly what the joke was, but the picture stayed up on the wall for months, and I remember that too. It would be almost ten years later that I started racing bikes and found out that the "GS" in G.S. Mengoni meant "Grouppo Sportiva." There are so many ways to learn in this world...
Now that we've cleared that up, we have a three day weekend ahead. Tommorow is the Rye Duathlon, which will be the first one I ever do to include road cycling. My running seems to have suffered quite a bit since cycling season has ramped up, so I do not have high hopes for a great placing. It is supposed to be raining too. I feel like if this were a standalone 5K, I could probably suck it up and break 21 minutes tommorow, especially since the last time I ran a 5K was in February and it was 18 degrees (F) outside and I was totally hung over and I managed a 20:30 or something. With two 5K's to run though, with 28K of bike time-trialing in between, this is new ground for me. It is hard to judge from the past results, because at this race I don't think the distances are certified, and the run is mostly on dirt, and besides, they don't break the transition times out. So we'll just have to have fun and see how it goes. No Cervelo P3 for me either. I am going to ride my 20 year old Specialized, resplendent with its friction downtube shifters and quill stem. I will have an old disc wheel and some Scott clipons, as well as a modern front wheel, but it should still be fun to go flying by people decked out with the latest aero speed weaponry. I'll report tommorow.
You might also wonder if this marks the beginning of a multi-sport career? With the one, two, three title, am I hinting at a possible triathlon? Uhhh, no. The ocean and me don't get along too well. In fact, the last time I swam in one, all members of the Ramones, the Clash, and Sex Pistols were still alive. I got washed out by the undertow and nearly preceded Joey and company to the grave, which pretty much sums up why it was the last time I swam in the ocean. A few days before that, I got stung by a jellyfish, so that didn't help either, and that makes two good reasons to stay on dry land.
Not that I am not just a little bit tri-curious. We have one in the lake over in Sharon, and nearly all of my training rides pass by there, so I would have a home town advantage. I would still need to start swimming though, and I don't see that ever happening. There is also an interesting looking triathlon in Kennebunkport, Maine. I know the bike course and it is pretty cool. Swimming in Maine though? Not me. The water temps here in the Northeast are a strong third reason why you won't find me frolicking in the waves. If you should ever find me in the water off the coast of Maine, you can safely assume that the boat I was on has just sunk, or possibly I pulled an Uncle Ted and drove off a bridge.
Bike racing is not going to get rid of me just yet. This weekend will be fun and a nice way to end my winter running program. After that bike racing will be all business. Hope you all have a great weekend, alchohol free or otherwise. Maybe a big long ride on Monday, we shall see. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
I'm a full grown man, way past twenty-one
The riders at Wompatuck keep getting younger. Last night there was a good turnout, around 50 riders. It used to be that I knew three fourths of the field by name. Now I guess most of the guys my age have decided that mixing it up with these kids every week is just a little too much. Maybe I should be happy about that... At least I wasn't the oldest guy there. Tommy M. was there for his first time ever; his son Gavin is racing juniors so he brought him down. The entire Coast junior team was there as well, along with many other new faces. The usual suspects, all the MBRC club riders like the Woodsman, Scott R, and Dr. Jim were there, AFHM, and Markie Mark were in attendance, so at least not everyone was a stranger.
The traffic on the way down didn't suck as bad as usual, but I got a ticket on Cushing Street in Hingham for fudging a yellow/red light. Just trying to get there a little earlier to extend the warmup, but there was a Statie sitting right at the intersection, and he wasn't too nice. So that sucked enough to make up for the lack of traffic. The course had dried out since last week, and there wasn't too much mud and debris on it either. Still though, the first few laps, the whirlwind of the pack was kicking up shit everywhere, and the guys with allergies were belly-aching non stop.
Nothing eventful for me, I just sat in and noted how badly my pedal speed has suffered over the winter. All this running and working on my climbing has taken the supplesse (sic?) and sweetness out of my pedal stroke. I don't have speed or cadence on my new bike, so I don't really know, but I was finding myself in the 15 cog when we weren't going super fast. The field did not seem to circulate as much as usual. I guess this is typical of the early summer. The same 10-15 guys were making all the action up front, and everyone else was just doing the motorpace thing. We ended up doing the 25 laps in 1:12 something, so I guess that works out to almost 43 kph average.
After Sunday's pain and agony, I was none too anxious to waste myself up front either. Having run only once in the past week, with the duathlon coming up Saturday, I knew I didn't want wobbly legs today. Still though, I can't sit there all night, so about 12 laps into it I went to the front and tried a one-lap flyer. I never looked back, but I think as usual they spotted me 80 meters and then someone or other gassed it a bit. I made it solo, driving the 14 and 13 almost an entire lap (~3 minutes) when a chase group of 5 came by. I wasn't so spent that I couldn't get on, so I did. No marquis riders in this group, but at first they seemed serious. We probably could have stuck for another lap or two, but one guy blew it apart on the course's only rise, and after that it didn't take long for the cavalry to kill us off.
I sat in for another six laps or so before going back up front for interval number two. This one I attacked really hard, but after only a minute or so a few riders bridged, and the pack got really serious and in no time the first twenty came by single file, really racing. Not sure who was driving it. That was enough for me tonight. The last lap moved pretty well, not sure how fast exactly, but I was spinning out the 14 as we wound it up. I can't sprint with these kids, so I just stay out of the way unless I find a comfortable spot in the train. Riding back to the car I felt really good, not nearly as spent as I felt most nights last year.
During the race, the Woodsman asked if I'd be interested in sneaking out of work some afternoon to golf. Now, knowing he is a member at Black Rock, as much as I like to save my hooky days for training, I'm not about to pass up the opportunity to shank one through Tom Brady's picture window. I can easily miss a day of training and still be satisfied that, unlike most 45 year olds, I consider 18 holes a rest day. A real workout comes on Tuesday nights throwing down with a bunch of fit kids in their twenties. Thanks for reading!
The traffic on the way down didn't suck as bad as usual, but I got a ticket on Cushing Street in Hingham for fudging a yellow/red light. Just trying to get there a little earlier to extend the warmup, but there was a Statie sitting right at the intersection, and he wasn't too nice. So that sucked enough to make up for the lack of traffic. The course had dried out since last week, and there wasn't too much mud and debris on it either. Still though, the first few laps, the whirlwind of the pack was kicking up shit everywhere, and the guys with allergies were belly-aching non stop.
Nothing eventful for me, I just sat in and noted how badly my pedal speed has suffered over the winter. All this running and working on my climbing has taken the supplesse (sic?) and sweetness out of my pedal stroke. I don't have speed or cadence on my new bike, so I don't really know, but I was finding myself in the 15 cog when we weren't going super fast. The field did not seem to circulate as much as usual. I guess this is typical of the early summer. The same 10-15 guys were making all the action up front, and everyone else was just doing the motorpace thing. We ended up doing the 25 laps in 1:12 something, so I guess that works out to almost 43 kph average.
After Sunday's pain and agony, I was none too anxious to waste myself up front either. Having run only once in the past week, with the duathlon coming up Saturday, I knew I didn't want wobbly legs today. Still though, I can't sit there all night, so about 12 laps into it I went to the front and tried a one-lap flyer. I never looked back, but I think as usual they spotted me 80 meters and then someone or other gassed it a bit. I made it solo, driving the 14 and 13 almost an entire lap (~3 minutes) when a chase group of 5 came by. I wasn't so spent that I couldn't get on, so I did. No marquis riders in this group, but at first they seemed serious. We probably could have stuck for another lap or two, but one guy blew it apart on the course's only rise, and after that it didn't take long for the cavalry to kill us off.
I sat in for another six laps or so before going back up front for interval number two. This one I attacked really hard, but after only a minute or so a few riders bridged, and the pack got really serious and in no time the first twenty came by single file, really racing. Not sure who was driving it. That was enough for me tonight. The last lap moved pretty well, not sure how fast exactly, but I was spinning out the 14 as we wound it up. I can't sprint with these kids, so I just stay out of the way unless I find a comfortable spot in the train. Riding back to the car I felt really good, not nearly as spent as I felt most nights last year.
During the race, the Woodsman asked if I'd be interested in sneaking out of work some afternoon to golf. Now, knowing he is a member at Black Rock, as much as I like to save my hooky days for training, I'm not about to pass up the opportunity to shank one through Tom Brady's picture window. I can easily miss a day of training and still be satisfied that, unlike most 45 year olds, I consider 18 holes a rest day. A real workout comes on Tuesday nights throwing down with a bunch of fit kids in their twenties. Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
It's love in a vacuum
Tuesday has dawned bright and beautiful, with no precipitation in the forecast. The Mass Bay Road Club website has a headline "the water has dried up and we will be racing 5/23" on it. After last week's flood cancellation, this will be my first chance to actually get out there and race. For me, nothing puts a little speed in the legs like a night at the 'tuck.
A few of my newer friends have been asking me about Wompatuck. This training series has been running on summertime Tuesday nights since before my time. It has always attracted enough talent to make it one of the best training races in the country. All the cool kids from Boston usually ride down, and the South Shore has quite a contingent of its own cyclists. The local pros generally attend when they are in town, and Hamilton even came down right after the first time he finished the Tour. The series has been so popular, years ago a second race for Cat 3-5 was added on Wednesdays.
What makes Wompatuck so successful? Certainly not the geography. The race is a pain in the ass to get to. Hingham is a seaside town, on land that juts out toward the harbor. The traffic getting there from points nearer to Boston generally sucks. It can take me over an hour to travel the 25 miles from my office. The race is in a heavily wooded, swampy state park. The mosquitoes are brutal. So why go? The race, the competition, and the course, that's why. You see, the course is on a wider than usual bike path through the woods. The 1.3 mile circuit is pretty flat, but it has some elevation change. The turns are pretty gentle, so there is not much to slow you down. Put a big field of fast riders on this tarmac, and the effect is like bullet traveling through the barrel of a gun. With all the trees, windbreak exists all the way around the course on both sides.
Without any wind, riding at the front is fast, very fast. And we are talking good riders here most of the time. At the back of the pack, to say you get a good draft would be the understatement of the century. It is like riding in a vacuum. Even a marginally fit rider can stay on at 50 kph on this course. The pace has to be extraordinary for things to go single file and break up the field. Breaks go, sure, and I would not call it easy, but it is really hard to actually be dropped here. You just have to put your head down and fight through the duration of any big surges. No wonder people love it.
For someone serious about training, the 'tuck is perfect. Ride up front, and you have to match pulls with the best riders in New England. Getting cooked? Just go sit in. Nothing like a few laps at 100 rpms, basically simulated motorpacing to flush the legs and bring on recovery. Need a super hard interval? Take a flyer. They'll come and get you, unless you are really on your best day. For sprinters, the wind up usually starts at 600 meters out, and if you mean business you'll be pushing 60 kph when the real showdown begins at 200m to go.
It is know wonder why in the summer we can't wait till Tuesday.
A few of my newer friends have been asking me about Wompatuck. This training series has been running on summertime Tuesday nights since before my time. It has always attracted enough talent to make it one of the best training races in the country. All the cool kids from Boston usually ride down, and the South Shore has quite a contingent of its own cyclists. The local pros generally attend when they are in town, and Hamilton even came down right after the first time he finished the Tour. The series has been so popular, years ago a second race for Cat 3-5 was added on Wednesdays.
What makes Wompatuck so successful? Certainly not the geography. The race is a pain in the ass to get to. Hingham is a seaside town, on land that juts out toward the harbor. The traffic getting there from points nearer to Boston generally sucks. It can take me over an hour to travel the 25 miles from my office. The race is in a heavily wooded, swampy state park. The mosquitoes are brutal. So why go? The race, the competition, and the course, that's why. You see, the course is on a wider than usual bike path through the woods. The 1.3 mile circuit is pretty flat, but it has some elevation change. The turns are pretty gentle, so there is not much to slow you down. Put a big field of fast riders on this tarmac, and the effect is like bullet traveling through the barrel of a gun. With all the trees, windbreak exists all the way around the course on both sides.
Without any wind, riding at the front is fast, very fast. And we are talking good riders here most of the time. At the back of the pack, to say you get a good draft would be the understatement of the century. It is like riding in a vacuum. Even a marginally fit rider can stay on at 50 kph on this course. The pace has to be extraordinary for things to go single file and break up the field. Breaks go, sure, and I would not call it easy, but it is really hard to actually be dropped here. You just have to put your head down and fight through the duration of any big surges. No wonder people love it.
For someone serious about training, the 'tuck is perfect. Ride up front, and you have to match pulls with the best riders in New England. Getting cooked? Just go sit in. Nothing like a few laps at 100 rpms, basically simulated motorpacing to flush the legs and bring on recovery. Need a super hard interval? Take a flyer. They'll come and get you, unless you are really on your best day. For sprinters, the wind up usually starts at 600 meters out, and if you mean business you'll be pushing 60 kph when the real showdown begins at 200m to go.
It is know wonder why in the summer we can't wait till Tuesday.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Sha-doo-bee, I've been shattered!
So much for my hopes for an easy Sunday ride. KL had a team so-pro-motional event to go to on Saturday, and thus did not race nor ride hard. Fresh as a daisy, her training plan called for a simulated hilly circuit race to get her ready for this coming Saturday's World Cup race in Montreal. Poor old me, totally smoked from Sunapee, was assigned the role of rabbit for this little adventure.
Four laps of a circuit just a bit of a distance away from the New Hampton training center, around 11k per lap, with one nasty 4 minute hill, some screaming downhills to minimize recovery time, another testy little climb, and a windswept section of false flat were what she had planned for us. Man did this suck. Getting outclimbed by your girlfriend is not something you want on your palmares, even if she races elite and has podiumed twice at Mount Washington. Every lap I had to time trial down the rolling descent of the big climb to close the gap, then immediately go to the front to start forcing the pace and "make it hard." As if it wasn't already... My legs were frazzled, but I fought like a dog and went to the front and drilled it every time she slowed. Of course, as soon as the road turned seriously upward, I would once again be on the defensive. These things happen when a 170 lb rider gets pitted against a 92 pound rider. Gender gap my fat ass!
The second lap was slower than the first lap by about 35 seconds, and I told her that would not do. The last two laps were HARD. I almost stayed on during the climb, but I also told her not to wait for me on the descent, so she didn't. That made the chase a real friggin' picnic, let me tell you. The third lap was a minute faster than the first. Bell lap. I killed myself on the hill, cresting just about 50 meters back, but I was so spent that she rode away from me. I could not close it up. The last lap was hell for me. My legs were completely torched. By the end I was almost a minute behind, yet I still nearly equaled our third lap time. Tail firmly between my legs, I limped back to the house and collapsed.
So ends a pretty damn good week of training. I think I'm going to take it easy for a few days. Thanks for reading!
Four laps of a circuit just a bit of a distance away from the New Hampton training center, around 11k per lap, with one nasty 4 minute hill, some screaming downhills to minimize recovery time, another testy little climb, and a windswept section of false flat were what she had planned for us. Man did this suck. Getting outclimbed by your girlfriend is not something you want on your palmares, even if she races elite and has podiumed twice at Mount Washington. Every lap I had to time trial down the rolling descent of the big climb to close the gap, then immediately go to the front to start forcing the pace and "make it hard." As if it wasn't already... My legs were frazzled, but I fought like a dog and went to the front and drilled it every time she slowed. Of course, as soon as the road turned seriously upward, I would once again be on the defensive. These things happen when a 170 lb rider gets pitted against a 92 pound rider. Gender gap my fat ass!
The second lap was slower than the first lap by about 35 seconds, and I told her that would not do. The last two laps were HARD. I almost stayed on during the climb, but I also told her not to wait for me on the descent, so she didn't. That made the chase a real friggin' picnic, let me tell you. The third lap was a minute faster than the first. Bell lap. I killed myself on the hill, cresting just about 50 meters back, but I was so spent that she rode away from me. I could not close it up. The last lap was hell for me. My legs were completely torched. By the end I was almost a minute behind, yet I still nearly equaled our third lap time. Tail firmly between my legs, I limped back to the house and collapsed.
So ends a pretty damn good week of training. I think I'm going to take it easy for a few days. Thanks for reading!
You say you wanna go for a spin
The New England race season sure had changed. We used to start with Myles Standish in late April, and most people treated that like a training race. After that, there would usually be Connecticut crits in Moosup, or at Ninigret, which was still a bumpy old B-52 runway, with the course delineated by old car tires laid on the tarmac, rather than the purpose built bike race course we enjoy today. The season didn't really start until the second and third weekends in May, when the Greenfield and Stow road races, as well as the grandaddy of the spring classics, the Putney Tour of the Valleys took place. Everyone wanted to be ready for Putney, because this was perhaps the only race that scored results for every single rider who finished. Most races back then, before video, posted the paying places and that was that. The West Hill boys had the finish on a hill, and they would time and pick everyone, and a few weeks after the race, along with a thank you letter, they would mail you a printed sheet with the complete rundown.
How things have changed. Now we get complete results for nearly every race in hours, not weeks. No more waiting for next month's issue of Velo News to see if your placing made it into the fine print at the back of the rag. Not only that, but here it is, May 21, the traditional Putney weekend, and I have already done seven road races, and could have done more. Sunapee, which used to come in the fall, but has moved around the calendar over the years, marked the end of the new "Spring Classics" season. I guess promoters figured out that people are itching to race in the spring, and promotion is just more lucrative as fields easily fill up.
Sunapee went up against another race at Ninigret the same day. This seemed to have worked out well as the two races attract different types of riders. Team BOB has no shortage of speed merchant sprinters, and Duano and company made one of their frequent pilgrimages to the Ninigret holy ground for a multi-race day in the sun and wind. The rest of us, the ones who can't sprint, headed up to Sunapee. In the 45+ we had a field of about 60 starters. CCB had their usual powerful squad; we had the second largest team with six riders. There was only one rider from Gearworks, but that was enough, as Joe Rano took the win from a two up breakway with our team mate Eric Pearce. These two were clearly the strongest in the field. Rano attacked repeatedly and Pearce was up front all day long. Some others infiltrated their winning break, but the duo rode them off and sent them packing back to the peloton.
Things were pretty animated in this group. The first lap had a lot of attacks. I even ended up solo when I took to the front entering the narrower road that connects the two state highways which make up the other two sides of the triangular course. Just rolling in there because in the past, I have found you can kind of get trapped at the back when the field does not circulate, the next thing I knew I was alone. I seem to roll down hills faster than most... Not putting much into it, when I nonetheless approached the first hard climb with a gap, I kept it going so as not to be caught on the climb itself. This worked out, as I was absorbed while coasting on the subsequent downhill, after about 6k solo. Then things felt easy. :o)
Completing the first lap, things seemed to slow going through the rotary. I thought this might be a good time to yank off the leg warmers. Wrong. Just after getting the first one off, all hell broke loose and we went single file in the 12, with a big split occuring at the front. So here I am, head down, bridging the gap, one leg warmer on and one off. Needless to say, I collected a few barbs from friend and foe alike for that. Eventually we slowed for a moment and I got my chance to take the other one off. The attacks resumed soon after, and the Pearce/Rano move went on the old feedzone hill (the part where there is a climbing lane). A chase group/response broke up the field, and I tried to go at first, then the warning lights went on, so I backed off a bit. Luckily someone else came by and I got on him. He couldn't close the gap, but he kept it from growing. As we reached the crest, glancing over my shoulder to see that the field was all busted up, I was able to bridge it up to reach the 10 man chase group. With Pearce up the road, I sat on. However, eventually the field regrouped as the break rode away.
There were more attacks during the last half lap, but nothing too serious until about 5k to go when the Cronoman bridged up to Terrence Parker (Boston Scientific) and another guy. They did not have a big lead, but their situation was not hopeless either. Pearce and Rano were gone off and contesting the win by themselves. Grouppo Cronoman held a slim margin around the rotary and up the hill, inside 1k to go. I got shuffled back in the melee that ensued in the pack, but got a spot in the left hand gutter as the finish climb began. The wind up was totally slo-moe due to the strong 3/4 headwind coming from the right. I was kind of boxed in as we absorbed the Crono-break, but it was a good thing as it probably kept me from jumping too soon. At about 500 meters I forced my way through a narrow gap just out of the soft shoulder, and led it out. Graydon Stevens came by on my right at around 150 meters, and I was going so slow grinding into the wind that I couldn't believe the whole pack hadn't crushed me yet. I peeked back and realized that unless their bikes suddenly transformed into motorcycles, I was going to make it. I gunned it as Stevens slowed, but he held me off by half a bike length at the line. He got 3rd and I got 4th just a few seconds ahead of the pack.
Pretty damn tired, I was still satisfied because this was my best result in anything other than a TT since coming back to the sport 3 seasons ago. Another top 5 at Sunapee, and it went down much the same way as in the past. I am good on this course, but not strong enough to ride away with the winning break. The spring was better than what I expected, and I am looking forward to a nice easy ride on Sunday...
How things have changed. Now we get complete results for nearly every race in hours, not weeks. No more waiting for next month's issue of Velo News to see if your placing made it into the fine print at the back of the rag. Not only that, but here it is, May 21, the traditional Putney weekend, and I have already done seven road races, and could have done more. Sunapee, which used to come in the fall, but has moved around the calendar over the years, marked the end of the new "Spring Classics" season. I guess promoters figured out that people are itching to race in the spring, and promotion is just more lucrative as fields easily fill up.
Sunapee went up against another race at Ninigret the same day. This seemed to have worked out well as the two races attract different types of riders. Team BOB has no shortage of speed merchant sprinters, and Duano and company made one of their frequent pilgrimages to the Ninigret holy ground for a multi-race day in the sun and wind. The rest of us, the ones who can't sprint, headed up to Sunapee. In the 45+ we had a field of about 60 starters. CCB had their usual powerful squad; we had the second largest team with six riders. There was only one rider from Gearworks, but that was enough, as Joe Rano took the win from a two up breakway with our team mate Eric Pearce. These two were clearly the strongest in the field. Rano attacked repeatedly and Pearce was up front all day long. Some others infiltrated their winning break, but the duo rode them off and sent them packing back to the peloton.
Things were pretty animated in this group. The first lap had a lot of attacks. I even ended up solo when I took to the front entering the narrower road that connects the two state highways which make up the other two sides of the triangular course. Just rolling in there because in the past, I have found you can kind of get trapped at the back when the field does not circulate, the next thing I knew I was alone. I seem to roll down hills faster than most... Not putting much into it, when I nonetheless approached the first hard climb with a gap, I kept it going so as not to be caught on the climb itself. This worked out, as I was absorbed while coasting on the subsequent downhill, after about 6k solo. Then things felt easy. :o)
Completing the first lap, things seemed to slow going through the rotary. I thought this might be a good time to yank off the leg warmers. Wrong. Just after getting the first one off, all hell broke loose and we went single file in the 12, with a big split occuring at the front. So here I am, head down, bridging the gap, one leg warmer on and one off. Needless to say, I collected a few barbs from friend and foe alike for that. Eventually we slowed for a moment and I got my chance to take the other one off. The attacks resumed soon after, and the Pearce/Rano move went on the old feedzone hill (the part where there is a climbing lane). A chase group/response broke up the field, and I tried to go at first, then the warning lights went on, so I backed off a bit. Luckily someone else came by and I got on him. He couldn't close the gap, but he kept it from growing. As we reached the crest, glancing over my shoulder to see that the field was all busted up, I was able to bridge it up to reach the 10 man chase group. With Pearce up the road, I sat on. However, eventually the field regrouped as the break rode away.
There were more attacks during the last half lap, but nothing too serious until about 5k to go when the Cronoman bridged up to Terrence Parker (Boston Scientific) and another guy. They did not have a big lead, but their situation was not hopeless either. Pearce and Rano were gone off and contesting the win by themselves. Grouppo Cronoman held a slim margin around the rotary and up the hill, inside 1k to go. I got shuffled back in the melee that ensued in the pack, but got a spot in the left hand gutter as the finish climb began. The wind up was totally slo-moe due to the strong 3/4 headwind coming from the right. I was kind of boxed in as we absorbed the Crono-break, but it was a good thing as it probably kept me from jumping too soon. At about 500 meters I forced my way through a narrow gap just out of the soft shoulder, and led it out. Graydon Stevens came by on my right at around 150 meters, and I was going so slow grinding into the wind that I couldn't believe the whole pack hadn't crushed me yet. I peeked back and realized that unless their bikes suddenly transformed into motorcycles, I was going to make it. I gunned it as Stevens slowed, but he held me off by half a bike length at the line. He got 3rd and I got 4th just a few seconds ahead of the pack.
Pretty damn tired, I was still satisfied because this was my best result in anything other than a TT since coming back to the sport 3 seasons ago. Another top 5 at Sunapee, and it went down much the same way as in the past. I am good on this course, but not strong enough to ride away with the winning break. The spring was better than what I expected, and I am looking forward to a nice easy ride on Sunday...
Thursday, May 18, 2006
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Ullrich takes over 2 minutes out of classy riders like Voight and Ekimov. The lack of respect this man gets from the "fans" and press that consistently call him fat and unprofessional is appalling. Isn't being the second best rider of your era worth more than that?
Update: Ullrich wins the stage! Bravo.
Update: Ullrich wins the stage! Bravo.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Like a rollercoaster baby, baby, yeah I wanna ride
To stir some debate on the distribution of effort in a TT (or a solo break!), I present the following table, compiled from the tools on Analyticcycling.com. Using the default 75 kg rider/bike, as well as the defaults for just about everything else, I plotted the power requirements for various speeds on a 3% grade, flat grade and 3% downhill grade. The idea is to examine how one might best attack a rolling course.
We are not machines, so for us to put out power, things are not as simple as pouring in fuel. I leave it to you to decide whether trying to keep power output constant is beneficial and/or desirable. Personally I do not believe that it is. Of course a number of factors, such as the length of the effort come into play. For these same reasons, I feel that the studies on pedaling efficiency/cadence cited on pez were somewhat flawed. The test durations are too short to be have much meaning to someone who does races lasting hours, and lots of other things warrant consideration. Muscle fatigue manifests itself in a number of different ways that no test could replicate, and thus limits ones abilities to do certain things, such as sprint or accelerate on a hill to stay with the group. Having fresh muscles when you need them is more critical than having a lower hearbeat/watt number. My thoughts on this could ramble forever, so, realizing that what I have written is in no way clear, I will move on with the simple hope that you picked up on the kinds of things I am trying to consider.
Getting back to our table, my point is much more direct: you are better off using your power just before the crest of a hill than anywhere else. Notice that when flying down a gentle grade at 16m/s (57.6 kph), if our example rider wants to increase their speed by 1 m/s (3.6 kph) the power requirement jumps from 322 watts to 428 watts (+106 watts). However, if they are on the 3% upslope, and only traveling 8m/s (28.8 kph), the same increase in speed is only going to cost them 58 watts. This is the result of fundamental physics where the fluid drag increases with the square of velocity.
I have heard after many TTs where riders talked of being in their 12 cog all the way down such and such a stretch of the course. That is fine, but if your output is badly compromised on a subsequent rise, then I think you wasted some effort. Powering over the crests and getting up to speed on the downside is critical, but trying to squeeze a few kph more out of the fast parts of the course can be a misuse of valuable energy. You are better off taking some recovery and saving your muscles for the sections of the course where you are not pushing so much air mass out of the way.
The next piece of this is how does this affect your position? My practice has been to "stretch out" and slide forward, get my arms close together, hands to the foremost portion of the aerobars, and pull the knees in on the fastest (downslope) portions of a course. I know I can't make as much power this way, but at over 50 kph, being aero is most beneficial. On the flip side, if I am coming to a grade where I need all the power I can get, I allow myself to slide back a bit, and "choke up" on the aerobars, maybe squaring my shoulders a little to facilitate better breathing. On a rise at 25 kph, being aero is not nearly as critical.
Throttling the power/energy judiciously to maintain momentum, lessen the pain of the rises, and exploit the downslopes is where I think I make up time on riders who could probably torch me in any lab test. I use everything at my disposal, every windbreak, the crown of the road, etc to my advantage if I see one. When and where to get out of the aerobars, or out of the saddle is always a dilemna. You never feel like you get it perfect, but if you hit one just right, the mental boost you get from flying over a crest is surely worth a few seconds. That's the TT world according to me. Don't go as hard as you can, go as fast as you can! :o)
We are not machines, so for us to put out power, things are not as simple as pouring in fuel. I leave it to you to decide whether trying to keep power output constant is beneficial and/or desirable. Personally I do not believe that it is. Of course a number of factors, such as the length of the effort come into play. For these same reasons, I feel that the studies on pedaling efficiency/cadence cited on pez were somewhat flawed. The test durations are too short to be have much meaning to someone who does races lasting hours, and lots of other things warrant consideration. Muscle fatigue manifests itself in a number of different ways that no test could replicate, and thus limits ones abilities to do certain things, such as sprint or accelerate on a hill to stay with the group. Having fresh muscles when you need them is more critical than having a lower hearbeat/watt number. My thoughts on this could ramble forever, so, realizing that what I have written is in no way clear, I will move on with the simple hope that you picked up on the kinds of things I am trying to consider.
Getting back to our table, my point is much more direct: you are better off using your power just before the crest of a hill than anywhere else. Notice that when flying down a gentle grade at 16m/s (57.6 kph), if our example rider wants to increase their speed by 1 m/s (3.6 kph) the power requirement jumps from 322 watts to 428 watts (+106 watts). However, if they are on the 3% upslope, and only traveling 8m/s (28.8 kph), the same increase in speed is only going to cost them 58 watts. This is the result of fundamental physics where the fluid drag increases with the square of velocity.
| Grade | 3.00% | 0.00% | -3.00% | |||
| m/s | kph | wind kg/ms2 | wind gmf | watts | watts | watts |
| 20 | 72.0 | 61.30 | 6255 | 1726 | 1285 | 844 |
| 19 | 68.4 | 55.30 | 5645 | 1526 | 1107 | 688 |
| 18 | 64.8 | 49.70 | 5067 | 1344 | 947 | 550 |
| 17 | 61.2 | 44.30 | 4519 | 1178 | 803 | 428 |
| 16 | 57.6 | 39.20 | 4003 | 1028 | 675 | 322 |
| 15 | 54.0 | 34.50 | 3519 | 892 | 561 | 230 |
| 14 | 50.4 | 30.00 | 3065 | 771 | 462 | 153 |
| 13 | 46.8 | 25.90 | 2643 | 662 | 375 | 88 |
| 12 | 43.2 | 22.10 | 2252 | 565 | 300 | 35 |
| 11 | 39.6 | 18.50 | 1892 | 479 | 236 | 0 |
| 10 | 36.0 | 15.30 | 1561 | 403 | 183 | 0 |
| 9 | 32.4 | 12.40 | 1261 | 337 | 138 | 0 |
| 8 | 28.8 | 9.80 | 1000 | 279 | 102 | 0 |
| 7 | 25.2 | 7.50 | 766 | 228 | 73 | 0 |
| 6 | 21.6 | 5.50 | 563 | 183 | 51 | 0 |
| 5 | 18.0 | 3.80 | 391 | 144 | 34 | 0 |
I have heard after many TTs where riders talked of being in their 12 cog all the way down such and such a stretch of the course. That is fine, but if your output is badly compromised on a subsequent rise, then I think you wasted some effort. Powering over the crests and getting up to speed on the downside is critical, but trying to squeeze a few kph more out of the fast parts of the course can be a misuse of valuable energy. You are better off taking some recovery and saving your muscles for the sections of the course where you are not pushing so much air mass out of the way.
The next piece of this is how does this affect your position? My practice has been to "stretch out" and slide forward, get my arms close together, hands to the foremost portion of the aerobars, and pull the knees in on the fastest (downslope) portions of a course. I know I can't make as much power this way, but at over 50 kph, being aero is most beneficial. On the flip side, if I am coming to a grade where I need all the power I can get, I allow myself to slide back a bit, and "choke up" on the aerobars, maybe squaring my shoulders a little to facilitate better breathing. On a rise at 25 kph, being aero is not nearly as critical.
Throttling the power/energy judiciously to maintain momentum, lessen the pain of the rises, and exploit the downslopes is where I think I make up time on riders who could probably torch me in any lab test. I use everything at my disposal, every windbreak, the crown of the road, etc to my advantage if I see one. When and where to get out of the aerobars, or out of the saddle is always a dilemna. You never feel like you get it perfect, but if you hit one just right, the mental boost you get from flying over a crest is surely worth a few seconds. That's the TT world according to me. Don't go as hard as you can, go as fast as you can! :o)
Spinning wheel got to go around
All day yesterday I kept checking the NE-BRA website for an announcement on Wompatuck. They cancel for rain (mostly because not enough people show up to make it worthwhile for them), and usually they put up an announcement by 2 pm. Nothing. Next I checked massbayroadclub.org and sure enough, there was a headline, which remains today, "we are racing tonight 5/16 at Wompatuck." Wow. It was drizzling, but it was hard for me to believe that the course was not under water. Leaving work early, I headed down in the rain, and the sky ahead appeared a bit brighter. There was much less traffic than usual so within 45 minutes I was in the front parking lot kitting up. As I rode back into the park to the race site, some guy in a car asked me for directions to the race. I told him which gate to go to and he turned around and roared off. A minute or two later he is driving back the other way and he says the gate is closed. WTF?
Well, apparently nobody within the MBRC brain trust thought about checking to see if their race course that runs through a swamp might be flooded. Most of the course was pretty clean, but there was a 100 meter section that was under 15 cm (let's be consistent) of water from edge to edge. Oh well. I rode two hours by myself, did some short hill efforts on a deserted road in the millionaire section of Hingham (mmm, maybe this was the tycoon section, as I don't think Hingham has any residents with a net worth of under a few mil). The view of the Boston skyline and the harbor islands was spectacular as the sun broke through the low clouds. It felt really good to be out, and the Slim Chance needed some TLC and a good cleaning anyway.
So today's lesson is going to be on TT position, "optimal" pedaling cadence, pedaling efficiency (isn't that the same thing???), and the distribution of effort in a TT. Obviously, this lesson could spill over into the days and weeks ahead if you kids are in a debating mood. Since the sun is now shining brightly through my window, there are better things for me to do right now than sit here and blog. Therefore, I will post the study materials (thanks for some of these links guys) and you can peruse them at your leisure. Sometime in the next few days I will color your screens with some purple prose, comments and wisdom of my own. Thanks for reading!
Some pics of Pros in TTs
Cervelo article 1
Cervelo article 2
53x12.com 1
53x12.com 2
53x12.com 3
Pez article
Pez article 2
More to come. Yesterday I found some pictures on the Cervelo site with nice profiles of Zabriskie. He was very compact with his elbows and knees right together. Can't find it today though, but tommorow when I am at my desk I'll see if it is in my history.
Well, apparently nobody within the MBRC brain trust thought about checking to see if their race course that runs through a swamp might be flooded. Most of the course was pretty clean, but there was a 100 meter section that was under 15 cm (let's be consistent) of water from edge to edge. Oh well. I rode two hours by myself, did some short hill efforts on a deserted road in the millionaire section of Hingham (mmm, maybe this was the tycoon section, as I don't think Hingham has any residents with a net worth of under a few mil). The view of the Boston skyline and the harbor islands was spectacular as the sun broke through the low clouds. It felt really good to be out, and the Slim Chance needed some TLC and a good cleaning anyway.
So today's lesson is going to be on TT position, "optimal" pedaling cadence, pedaling efficiency (isn't that the same thing???), and the distribution of effort in a TT. Obviously, this lesson could spill over into the days and weeks ahead if you kids are in a debating mood. Since the sun is now shining brightly through my window, there are better things for me to do right now than sit here and blog. Therefore, I will post the study materials (thanks for some of these links guys) and you can peruse them at your leisure. Sometime in the next few days I will color your screens with some purple prose, comments and wisdom of my own. Thanks for reading!
Some pics of Pros in TTs
Cervelo article 1
Cervelo article 2
53x12.com 1
53x12.com 2
53x12.com 3
Pez article
Pez article 2
More to come. Yesterday I found some pictures on the Cervelo site with nice profiles of Zabriskie. He was very compact with his elbows and knees right together. Can't find it today though, but tommorow when I am at my desk I'll see if it is in my history.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
All last night, sat on the levee and moaned...
OK, after Zoo's flood pictures post that one was a lay up. On the rare occasions when we ride east out of Nashua from the Cronoman's house, we ride over that Rt 111 bridge to get to Route 3A and Feltslave country. That water is damn high. KL said the other night going home through Manchester, the water cascading through the spillway next to Wannalancit Mills was unbelievably spectacular. Down here (I live 20 miles southwest of Boston) we only got a third of the foot of rain that the Merrimac Valley (home of Team BOB) received.
Today there appears to be a faint hope that the sun will return and it seems remotely possible that there could even be a race at Wompatuck tonight. Doubtful, but I packed the bike and gear just in case. The Sunapee Road Race is this coming Saturday. I really feel like I need to get in a few good rides to open up before then. All the big boys from the talent-rich 45+ group raced at Bear Mountain in New York last Sunday, so I know they will be ready. Sunapee is another classic race that has been on the New England calendar longer than I have been racing. The course is a 23 mile loop around the lake. The profile includes numerous small climbs, several of which come in close enough succession over on the back side to be considered one long climb. The finish is on a short uphill road that leads from the state highway to the ski area parking lot. Sunapee is one of those races that is too hilly for the sprinters, but not a pure climber's race either--the kind of race I like. In the past, I have done well here, with a few top 5 finishes, but two years ago I also got completely shelled out on the first (of two) laps, so this is no cakewalk.
Last night I got on the trainer for 30 minutes to loosen up. I do a lot of really short workouts these days. My feeling is that they are better than nothing and help keep the legs loose, and also make my "real" workouts more productive when I do manage to get outside, because I am not all tight and stiff. What is your opinion of the short, lame workout? Years ago I wouldn't even bother if I couldn't get outside for at least an hour, and I wouldn't dream of touching the trainer during the season. A few years back I started bringing the trainer to crits for warmup, and the benefits are dramatic. I can get a much more effective warmup on the trainer than what I usually get trying to find decent roads in the vicinity of a typical crit. For my quickie workouts during the week, it is just a time saver (no clothing decisions to make, etc) and since I often don't get home from work until it is nearly dark outside, it just works. The past few years I have worked some commuting into the equation too, but for me the logistical challenges usually outweigh the benefit.
Hopefully the weather will turn for us. A week of rain is bad enough, but when it is like this and we are losing a week of some of the best daylight we get all year, then it really hurts. The days will be getting shorter before you know it, so get out there and make it happen when you get the chance. Thanks for reading.
Today there appears to be a faint hope that the sun will return and it seems remotely possible that there could even be a race at Wompatuck tonight. Doubtful, but I packed the bike and gear just in case. The Sunapee Road Race is this coming Saturday. I really feel like I need to get in a few good rides to open up before then. All the big boys from the talent-rich 45+ group raced at Bear Mountain in New York last Sunday, so I know they will be ready. Sunapee is another classic race that has been on the New England calendar longer than I have been racing. The course is a 23 mile loop around the lake. The profile includes numerous small climbs, several of which come in close enough succession over on the back side to be considered one long climb. The finish is on a short uphill road that leads from the state highway to the ski area parking lot. Sunapee is one of those races that is too hilly for the sprinters, but not a pure climber's race either--the kind of race I like. In the past, I have done well here, with a few top 5 finishes, but two years ago I also got completely shelled out on the first (of two) laps, so this is no cakewalk.
Last night I got on the trainer for 30 minutes to loosen up. I do a lot of really short workouts these days. My feeling is that they are better than nothing and help keep the legs loose, and also make my "real" workouts more productive when I do manage to get outside, because I am not all tight and stiff. What is your opinion of the short, lame workout? Years ago I wouldn't even bother if I couldn't get outside for at least an hour, and I wouldn't dream of touching the trainer during the season. A few years back I started bringing the trainer to crits for warmup, and the benefits are dramatic. I can get a much more effective warmup on the trainer than what I usually get trying to find decent roads in the vicinity of a typical crit. For my quickie workouts during the week, it is just a time saver (no clothing decisions to make, etc) and since I often don't get home from work until it is nearly dark outside, it just works. The past few years I have worked some commuting into the equation too, but for me the logistical challenges usually outweigh the benefit.
Hopefully the weather will turn for us. A week of rain is bad enough, but when it is like this and we are losing a week of some of the best daylight we get all year, then it really hurts. The days will be getting shorter before you know it, so get out there and make it happen when you get the chance. Thanks for reading.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Make you wanna run for cover, yes it will.*
No rain, go train. But it rained. And rained. Sunday was worse than Saturday. The best part about being an over the hill amateur is that we don't have to do any training that we don't want to do. I don't want to go outside and ride in the pouring rain. Actually, the rain is not the part that bothers me. Not the rain that is still falling anyway. The puddles are the problem. They make my feet wet and get my bike all dirty, not to mention need maintanence. I don't like doing bike maintanence. Right now I don't have a full-fendered beater up and running either to take the "ride her hard and put her away wet" abuse of rain riding, but even if I did, this weekend's deluge was beyond my sensibility threshold.
With the rest of this week looking wet too, and Sunapee coming up on Saturday, the trainer might be a fact of life when it comes time to open up. Rather than burn out on indoor riding now, after doing a good session on Saturday, I decided to just skip the ride Sunday. Late in the day I stumbled out of the house when the rain wasn't quite so bad and did a 6 mile run at a slow pace, 8:20 miles with an average HR of 135 (LT is around 160). Then it was off to Mom's place. This wrapped up my week of training at a pathetic (for May) 6 hours, and this on the heels of the prior week's less than stellar 8:45. Things will be all that much sweeter when the weather turns back. I might need to end up doing a 200K epic on Memorial Day in order to get anywhere near my monthly mileage (kilometerage?) goal.
So yesterday, being rained in, I did some extra exploring of the blogosphere. One of the links I followed was to this tri-guy Iron Benny. His recent blogging included this post where he offers up a rehash of an old theme, that road cyclists are a bunch of elitist snobs. This angle has been exploited for years, especially back when mountain biking was taking off. It is too bad, because we are all bike riders, but since division and classification come hand in hand, as soon as we classify ourselves we start to become divided.
Years ago, I can remember being called a "roadie" by hard-core MTB riders. I guess this was because I could climb hills without using the granny gear, but then manage to get in their way on downhill. "Roadie" was hardly being used in a complimentary manner most of the time. This was particularly amusing to me, because I bought my first mountain bike in 1986 when most of these kids were still playing T-ball. So maybe reading Iron Benny's post opened up old wounds. Where does the "elitist snob" stereotype of road riders come from anyway?
I am not a raging Springsteen fan by any means, and he probably heard this from someone else, but I once saw an interview where he said "There are nice guys and assholes in every neighborhood." Damn straight. (that's me as a forty-something trying to sound hip. What is hip? Tell me, tell me do you think you know?...). For sure, The Boss has got it right. Certainly there are road riders whose attitude cannot be defended. That goes for everyone. Why then, do we all get the broad brush? I take you back to my first blog post. This whole little thing started out with a little comparison/contrast between triathletes and bike racers. Like most friction, the divide between bicycle road racers and other cyclists originates primarily from misunderstanding.
Bicycle road racing is something that you just cannot understand without doing it. The dynamic of pack riding defines the sport. Tactical management of ones energy, and the use of other's actions to ones own benefit are as big a part of the game as strength and fitness. This is what makes racing hard in a different way than "individual" sports that involve cycling. When the race comes to a hill, and the benefit of drafting in the group loses its significance, if you can't keep up, and lose 10 seconds, you will probably never get it back. There is no "your pace." You either need to put up, or get dropped, and then you are done. The pack is that important. This is just the way it is.
Trust is very important in the pack. Riding along at 50 kph down an unfamiliar road, shoulder to shoulder with 125 other riders requires a lot of trust. Surely any triathlete can understand that no dedicated athlete wants to lose an entire season, maybe even an entire lifetime of training and hard work due to a mistake by someone else. The group is like a flock of birds; we are all individuals, but we have to fly in the expected manner to avoid carnage in the group. Unlike birds, we were not born with these instincts. The skills and etiquette had to be learned. This is why bicycle racing has licenses and categories, to separate the new riders from the experienced.
When out on the road training, we share the roads with all kinds of people: the cars, the trucks, motorcycles, triathletes, tourists, kids, and DWI's riding against traffic. Those of us who spend our weekends mixing it up in road races and criteriums have been conditioned to ride a certain way amongst other cyclists. When I am with my mates, I don't have to wonder if, when a chipmunk runs into the road right in front of us, are they going to swerve or brake? I know they are going to bunny hop it. I have confidence in them, trust. Not because they have a fancy bike, not because they shave their legs, not because they can name a pro cyclist other than Lance Armstrong, but because I know them and trust them. It is that simple. If you've never raced bikes, you just wouldn't understand. Lots of racers feel the same way, and what you might perceive as elitism is really nothing more than risk management. Trust me, if you are on a bike, I respect what you are doing, but please respect me and what I am doing too.
The rest will have to wait. Thanks for reading and bring on the comments!
*This one is a bit more obscure than most, so I will spell it out for you:
Real Mother for Ya
Johnny "Guitar" Watson
With the rest of this week looking wet too, and Sunapee coming up on Saturday, the trainer might be a fact of life when it comes time to open up. Rather than burn out on indoor riding now, after doing a good session on Saturday, I decided to just skip the ride Sunday. Late in the day I stumbled out of the house when the rain wasn't quite so bad and did a 6 mile run at a slow pace, 8:20 miles with an average HR of 135 (LT is around 160). Then it was off to Mom's place. This wrapped up my week of training at a pathetic (for May) 6 hours, and this on the heels of the prior week's less than stellar 8:45. Things will be all that much sweeter when the weather turns back. I might need to end up doing a 200K epic on Memorial Day in order to get anywhere near my monthly mileage (kilometerage?) goal.
So yesterday, being rained in, I did some extra exploring of the blogosphere. One of the links I followed was to this tri-guy Iron Benny. His recent blogging included this post where he offers up a rehash of an old theme, that road cyclists are a bunch of elitist snobs. This angle has been exploited for years, especially back when mountain biking was taking off. It is too bad, because we are all bike riders, but since division and classification come hand in hand, as soon as we classify ourselves we start to become divided.
Years ago, I can remember being called a "roadie" by hard-core MTB riders. I guess this was because I could climb hills without using the granny gear, but then manage to get in their way on downhill. "Roadie" was hardly being used in a complimentary manner most of the time. This was particularly amusing to me, because I bought my first mountain bike in 1986 when most of these kids were still playing T-ball. So maybe reading Iron Benny's post opened up old wounds. Where does the "elitist snob" stereotype of road riders come from anyway?
I am not a raging Springsteen fan by any means, and he probably heard this from someone else, but I once saw an interview where he said "There are nice guys and assholes in every neighborhood." Damn straight. (that's me as a forty-something trying to sound hip. What is hip? Tell me, tell me do you think you know?...). For sure, The Boss has got it right. Certainly there are road riders whose attitude cannot be defended. That goes for everyone. Why then, do we all get the broad brush? I take you back to my first blog post. This whole little thing started out with a little comparison/contrast between triathletes and bike racers. Like most friction, the divide between bicycle road racers and other cyclists originates primarily from misunderstanding.
Bicycle road racing is something that you just cannot understand without doing it. The dynamic of pack riding defines the sport. Tactical management of ones energy, and the use of other's actions to ones own benefit are as big a part of the game as strength and fitness. This is what makes racing hard in a different way than "individual" sports that involve cycling. When the race comes to a hill, and the benefit of drafting in the group loses its significance, if you can't keep up, and lose 10 seconds, you will probably never get it back. There is no "your pace." You either need to put up, or get dropped, and then you are done. The pack is that important. This is just the way it is.
Trust is very important in the pack. Riding along at 50 kph down an unfamiliar road, shoulder to shoulder with 125 other riders requires a lot of trust. Surely any triathlete can understand that no dedicated athlete wants to lose an entire season, maybe even an entire lifetime of training and hard work due to a mistake by someone else. The group is like a flock of birds; we are all individuals, but we have to fly in the expected manner to avoid carnage in the group. Unlike birds, we were not born with these instincts. The skills and etiquette had to be learned. This is why bicycle racing has licenses and categories, to separate the new riders from the experienced.
When out on the road training, we share the roads with all kinds of people: the cars, the trucks, motorcycles, triathletes, tourists, kids, and DWI's riding against traffic. Those of us who spend our weekends mixing it up in road races and criteriums have been conditioned to ride a certain way amongst other cyclists. When I am with my mates, I don't have to wonder if, when a chipmunk runs into the road right in front of us, are they going to swerve or brake? I know they are going to bunny hop it. I have confidence in them, trust. Not because they have a fancy bike, not because they shave their legs, not because they can name a pro cyclist other than Lance Armstrong, but because I know them and trust them. It is that simple. If you've never raced bikes, you just wouldn't understand. Lots of racers feel the same way, and what you might perceive as elitism is really nothing more than risk management. Trust me, if you are on a bike, I respect what you are doing, but please respect me and what I am doing too.
The rest will have to wait. Thanks for reading and bring on the comments!
*This one is a bit more obscure than most, so I will spell it out for you:
Real Mother for Ya
Johnny "Guitar" Watson
Saturday, May 13, 2006
I'm in with the in crowd.
The indoor crowd, that is. Patience did not pay off today. The early morning turned out to be the only time of the day when outdoor riding would have been the least bit worthwhile. After that the rain just fell and fell. I enjoyed a nice nap, and then took the time to do a long stretch and core workout before climbing on the trainer for a 90 minute session, including two lactic tolerance intervals. These are my least favorite type of work, and it shows, because grinding away at low rpm is a marked weakness for me. This hurts me on long, steady climbs. Five minutes is about my limit (which thankfully was the duration of the climb at Hollenbeck) so I pushed it for 8 minutes on the first one and 10 minutes on the second one. Baby steps, you know? These were done at 80 rpm too, even though 75 might have been better. On 53x12.com, Michele Ferrari comments that the reason higher rpms allow you to stay fresher longer is because the length of time the muscle is contracted is reduced, and therefore blood flow is less restricted. I believe it is true, because low rpms hurt like hell to me. Still though, on the climbs a lower cadence just seems more efficient, and it helps hold the HR down. Bolder and his prairie-dog posse will be glad to know that I listened to a U2 cd during this workout, and as a result this post almost got named "Slow down my beating heart."
Last night (Friday) I did manage to get outdoors for a workout. Thursday night, I got a great massage, and then returned home and got ready to relax. No sooner had I turned on "The Office" that I realized I had to work. Crap. Not real work, just remote connect to a hospital that was adding a new server and reconfigure one of the applications that I support. Easy money (usually) and that mid-month check helps. Of course, these things never go the way they are planned. They were supposed to be ready at 10:30 pm and expected to be back up by 1:30. My piece would only take about 20 minutes. As luck would have it, I got a message that they had some hardware issues and things would be delayed by about two hours. I dozed off. On cue, the phone rang at 12:30, we are ready to go. After some more issues, it didn't wrap up until 2:30, and I couldn't get back to sleep until it was almost time to get up. Despite all this, somehow I managed to get on the trainer for 30 minutes with a few short intervals. Friday evening I did manage to make an early escape when a big group meeting in the Canton building, which is closest to home, ended too late to make it worth going back to my building. As tired as I was, dinner and sleep sounded like a good idea. When I got home though, it wasn't raining, and I ended up quickly taking down the Specialized, fitting some aero bars that my man Dee had graciously given me, swapping the pedals to ATACS, and moving the seat forward and up.
My madness centered around the upcoming duathlon. The only disc wheel I have is an old 126 mm spacing freewheel HED. I have a homegrown mongrel TT bike, but it has really low bars and is not easy to ride, so for working my way through a bunch of squirrelly duathletes, I am not sure it would be a good choice. The ATACS idea was because my MTB shoes are super easy to take on and off, and of course will be better for running in and out of the transition if this is required. I got outside on the bike by 6:30. The bike immediately felt comfortable, and I tested it with a few laps of a nearby loop where we used to have a 4 mile TT. During the ride I decided that maybe I should ride home and then try going right out for a run. So that is what I did. After an hour on the bike, I rode hard right to the door, ran in, swapped shoes and ditched the helmet, and got back outside in under 3 minutes. It was raining now, but I ran about 5.5k in just under 24 minutes, with an average HR of only 142. Not bad, and I felt fine. Maybe it was the massage.
I may get chastised for writing another "boring, diary style" blog entry. KL is on her way back from the Bristol RR in western NY, where once again Team Terry took 1st, 2nd, and 4th. Today was also the Sterling Road Race, held in, of all places, Sterling MA. I have never done this race, so I saw no reason to start now. Quite a few of the mates were signed up though, including Dave L. Our team has quite a cast of characters, as did my old team. Back there, we had great nicknames too, like The Belgian Strongman, Big Mig, The Course Cutter, and of course, The Cronoman, who in my absence started the mass exodus to BOB. At BOB, we don't have quite as many cool nicknames, but we still have quite a cast. We have dubbed Dave L. "Zoo" as most of the morons in the club want to pronounce his name Lewinsky (go figure) instead of the correct Low-Zoo-ski. I can't wait until we get to a race when he is in a group either off the front (ok, we can dream) or off the back, so we can dub it the "Zoo Man Group." I don't have cable, but I really miss watching the Giro and Vuelta because they have the cool labels in Italian and Spanish, like Grouppo Maglia Rosa, or Escapados.
This last bit is the kind of high-brow humor regular readers have come to expect. I stole this from our club email list because it was just too good to not share with the general public. Someone started a thread talking about the speed of the sprint at the Giro. One flat stage was said to be around 71 kph (almost 44 mph) at the finish. Some of our clowns piped in with anecdotes about how they had hit 50 mph in this sprint or that sprint, as if they were just a plane ride away from coming off McEwen's wheel for a stage win in Torino. Our hairiest member (huh-huh), a jackass with 23 bikes, who I at first couldn't stand, but have grown to enjoy and respect, came back with this gem:
... Thanks for reading!
Last night (Friday) I did manage to get outdoors for a workout. Thursday night, I got a great massage, and then returned home and got ready to relax. No sooner had I turned on "The Office" that I realized I had to work. Crap. Not real work, just remote connect to a hospital that was adding a new server and reconfigure one of the applications that I support. Easy money (usually) and that mid-month check helps. Of course, these things never go the way they are planned. They were supposed to be ready at 10:30 pm and expected to be back up by 1:30. My piece would only take about 20 minutes. As luck would have it, I got a message that they had some hardware issues and things would be delayed by about two hours. I dozed off. On cue, the phone rang at 12:30, we are ready to go. After some more issues, it didn't wrap up until 2:30, and I couldn't get back to sleep until it was almost time to get up. Despite all this, somehow I managed to get on the trainer for 30 minutes with a few short intervals. Friday evening I did manage to make an early escape when a big group meeting in the Canton building, which is closest to home, ended too late to make it worth going back to my building. As tired as I was, dinner and sleep sounded like a good idea. When I got home though, it wasn't raining, and I ended up quickly taking down the Specialized, fitting some aero bars that my man Dee had graciously given me, swapping the pedals to ATACS, and moving the seat forward and up.
My madness centered around the upcoming duathlon. The only disc wheel I have is an old 126 mm spacing freewheel HED. I have a homegrown mongrel TT bike, but it has really low bars and is not easy to ride, so for working my way through a bunch of squirrelly duathletes, I am not sure it would be a good choice. The ATACS idea was because my MTB shoes are super easy to take on and off, and of course will be better for running in and out of the transition if this is required. I got outside on the bike by 6:30. The bike immediately felt comfortable, and I tested it with a few laps of a nearby loop where we used to have a 4 mile TT. During the ride I decided that maybe I should ride home and then try going right out for a run. So that is what I did. After an hour on the bike, I rode hard right to the door, ran in, swapped shoes and ditched the helmet, and got back outside in under 3 minutes. It was raining now, but I ran about 5.5k in just under 24 minutes, with an average HR of only 142. Not bad, and I felt fine. Maybe it was the massage.
I may get chastised for writing another "boring, diary style" blog entry. KL is on her way back from the Bristol RR in western NY, where once again Team Terry took 1st, 2nd, and 4th. Today was also the Sterling Road Race, held in, of all places, Sterling MA. I have never done this race, so I saw no reason to start now. Quite a few of the mates were signed up though, including Dave L. Our team has quite a cast of characters, as did my old team. Back there, we had great nicknames too, like The Belgian Strongman, Big Mig, The Course Cutter, and of course, The Cronoman, who in my absence started the mass exodus to BOB. At BOB, we don't have quite as many cool nicknames, but we still have quite a cast. We have dubbed Dave L. "Zoo" as most of the morons in the club want to pronounce his name Lewinsky (go figure) instead of the correct Low-Zoo-ski. I can't wait until we get to a race when he is in a group either off the front (ok, we can dream) or off the back, so we can dub it the "Zoo Man Group." I don't have cable, but I really miss watching the Giro and Vuelta because they have the cool labels in Italian and Spanish, like Grouppo Maglia Rosa, or Escapados.
This last bit is the kind of high-brow humor regular readers have come to expect. I stole this from our club email list because it was just too good to not share with the general public. Someone started a thread talking about the speed of the sprint at the Giro. One flat stage was said to be around 71 kph (almost 44 mph) at the finish. Some of our clowns piped in with anecdotes about how they had hit 50 mph in this sprint or that sprint, as if they were just a plane ride away from coming off McEwen's wheel for a stage win in Torino. Our hairiest member (huh-huh), a jackass with 23 bikes, who I at first couldn't stand, but have grown to enjoy and respect, came back with this gem:
Date: Fri May 12, 2006 5:03 pm
Subject: Re: [bobcycling] Giro speed bicycleracer...
i had too much chinese food last night and the dump i
took at midnight was clocked at well over 80kph as it
blew out the back of the bowl.
and that was me just sitting on.
... Thanks for reading!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Thirsty Thursdays
Today at work we started planning an outing to a Brockton Rox game. We thought about going during Fair Week, but that gets pretty crazy, and while stabbings may be interesting to watch, they are not something you want to be a participant in. A quick check of the schedule revealed "Thirsty Thursday presented by Narragansett Lager." Talk about a no-brainer. So June 15th it is. $2 drafts in the beer garden. Last year at the Rox, the cups in the beer garden bore advertising from a DWI lawyer: 1-800-NOT-DRNK. The mascot, a guy in a kangaroo suit, smelled like he probably know the lawyer pretty well. But we had a blast, so we are going back. The Rox are part owned by Bill Murray and they do a great job of making things entertaining, and it is cheap. So if you get tired of AFDs, by all means come on by. We'll be in right field.
With the rain this week, there is not much to report on the training front. Yesterday I went running, then spun on the trainer at night. This morning I did another trainer ride with some efforts. Today looks a bit drier outside, but tonight is massage night, so no outdoor ride. The weekend looks wet too. I am a bit concerned about the duathlon coming up in two weeks. It sounds easy enough on paper, but the running still totals nearly 10k, which is hard when raced, and a 28k TT on the bike is always hard when ridden properly. Doing them together will leave me sore, no doubt. This weekend I would like to do a practice event (is this what the multisporters mean when they say brick?). Hopefully the weather will cooperate. Last year KL did this duathlon and her bike time was only 4 minutes off the fastest. Normally at that distance I should beat her by 3 or 4 minutes, so I expect to be competitive there. On the runs, I expect to lose between 3 and 6 minutes on each one, depending on who shows up for this thing. I believe they are going to be 3 miles each, not 5k, but on grass, so I am hopeful to be able to do them in under 22 minutes each. I am not sure how that is going to work out in conjunction with a TT, so a test run this weekend would be a good idea.
I had a few other ideas for a post today, but this whole lame job thing keeps getting in the way. Maybe tommorow you can look forward to a review of some blogs I follow, or perhaps a rundown on the collection of sorry sacks of shit I call my teammates. Maybe even both! This is something that can't be rushed, so be patient. Thanks for reading.
With the rain this week, there is not much to report on the training front. Yesterday I went running, then spun on the trainer at night. This morning I did another trainer ride with some efforts. Today looks a bit drier outside, but tonight is massage night, so no outdoor ride. The weekend looks wet too. I am a bit concerned about the duathlon coming up in two weeks. It sounds easy enough on paper, but the running still totals nearly 10k, which is hard when raced, and a 28k TT on the bike is always hard when ridden properly. Doing them together will leave me sore, no doubt. This weekend I would like to do a practice event (is this what the multisporters mean when they say brick?). Hopefully the weather will cooperate. Last year KL did this duathlon and her bike time was only 4 minutes off the fastest. Normally at that distance I should beat her by 3 or 4 minutes, so I expect to be competitive there. On the runs, I expect to lose between 3 and 6 minutes on each one, depending on who shows up for this thing. I believe they are going to be 3 miles each, not 5k, but on grass, so I am hopeful to be able to do them in under 22 minutes each. I am not sure how that is going to work out in conjunction with a TT, so a test run this weekend would be a good idea.
I had a few other ideas for a post today, but this whole lame job thing keeps getting in the way. Maybe tommorow you can look forward to a review of some blogs I follow, or perhaps a rundown on the collection of sorry sacks of shit I call my teammates. Maybe even both! This is something that can't be rushed, so be patient. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
It was 20 years ago today...
May 10, 1986, twenty days after riding my two-year old, $169 Motobecane Nomade up to observe the Wells Ave training races, I bought my first racing bike, a Specialized Allez SE. You see, I didn't know anyone who raced bikes. The Motobecane was purchased so that I could get some exercise after vegetating and hustling weed for ten years. When I was a kid, I had a nice LaPierre 10 speed with Simplex derailleurs, Mafac centerpulls, and cottered crank. One of my goals back then was to ride a century, but that never quite worked out. My friend Taras and I would ride from Stoughton to Hyde Park and back, going up (mostly walking) and down Blue Hill on the way. This was maybe 35 miles round trip. When I was 12 or 13, I did my longest ride, fully loaded with camping gear, me and some other delinquent rode from Stoughton to Horseneck Beach in Westport. It rained that day too. We trucked down 138 all the way through Fall River into Tiverton, then over to 88 and down to the campground. It rained the whole two days we were there, and we stayed in our tent and ate all our food, so we ended up calling for a ride home. We made the kid's mother drive back the way we came so that we could clock the mileage, which, as I recall, came out to a little over 60. After that, I think my bike fell apart and I stopped riding, and got distracted by other ways of wasting my youth.
The first time I rode the Motobecane, I made it about 9 miles before my ass was so sore I had to start walking. Ouch. I stuck with it though, and worked my way up to regular 20 and 30 mile rides from my apartment in Randolph over through my old stomping grounds, and present home in Easton. The idea of racing came from being a gearhead, and if something had wheels, well then you should race it. Hearing about Wells Ave, I rode up to check it out. Everyone had a nicer bike than mine, as well as helmets and funny shoes. Hence, the Allez was purchased three weeks later. This was a sweet bike for just $600. An Ishiwata frame, hand made in Japan, with Sun Tour Superbe Pro and Specialized own brand components. I still have the bike, and it is quite possible that I will take it to Wells Ave on the first weekend of July to commemorate the 20th anniversary of my racing debut.
The 20 year theme on this blog might get a bit old by the end of the year. In 86 I limited my racing to Wells Ave, and then the Boston Road Club "C" division championships, which was a stage race. Starting with a short TT on a loop adjacent to the old Marlboro circuit race course, we then did the circuit races in the afternoon. On Sunday, we finished with a technical crit on the old Polaroid Norwood campus that is now the home of Putnam Investments. I won the road race but ended up 2nd on the "C" GC when Jeff Metz soloed away in the crit. He ended up being pretty good and making it to Cat 2 and doing quite well in hard road races like Putney.
As fate would have it, because I was a medalist, I attended the annual BRC banquet, even though I really didn't know anyone in the club yet. This was in the fall, and there I learned that this guy Buzz Tarlow was going to be holding a "cyclocross" training series on Sundays after the Wells Ave season ended. Back then, MTBs were a new thing, and cyclocross was about as obscure as anything you could imagine. I started going to the sparsely attended series, ended up buying my Rockhopper and converting it to drop bars, and training through the winter. It was here I first met Tom Stevens, who was then a young Cat 2 riding for the Richard Sachs team, as well as USCF official Bill Dolan, who would take his son Billy. If all this sounds familiar, it is because I think I have written about it before, but too bad.
After my season of "cross" and then, because I worked evenings, training hard all winter, I got my first USCF license in 1987, and you know most of the rest.
The first time I rode the Motobecane, I made it about 9 miles before my ass was so sore I had to start walking. Ouch. I stuck with it though, and worked my way up to regular 20 and 30 mile rides from my apartment in Randolph over through my old stomping grounds, and present home in Easton. The idea of racing came from being a gearhead, and if something had wheels, well then you should race it. Hearing about Wells Ave, I rode up to check it out. Everyone had a nicer bike than mine, as well as helmets and funny shoes. Hence, the Allez was purchased three weeks later. This was a sweet bike for just $600. An Ishiwata frame, hand made in Japan, with Sun Tour Superbe Pro and Specialized own brand components. I still have the bike, and it is quite possible that I will take it to Wells Ave on the first weekend of July to commemorate the 20th anniversary of my racing debut.
The 20 year theme on this blog might get a bit old by the end of the year. In 86 I limited my racing to Wells Ave, and then the Boston Road Club "C" division championships, which was a stage race. Starting with a short TT on a loop adjacent to the old Marlboro circuit race course, we then did the circuit races in the afternoon. On Sunday, we finished with a technical crit on the old Polaroid Norwood campus that is now the home of Putnam Investments. I won the road race but ended up 2nd on the "C" GC when Jeff Metz soloed away in the crit. He ended up being pretty good and making it to Cat 2 and doing quite well in hard road races like Putney.
As fate would have it, because I was a medalist, I attended the annual BRC banquet, even though I really didn't know anyone in the club yet. This was in the fall, and there I learned that this guy Buzz Tarlow was going to be holding a "cyclocross" training series on Sundays after the Wells Ave season ended. Back then, MTBs were a new thing, and cyclocross was about as obscure as anything you could imagine. I started going to the sparsely attended series, ended up buying my Rockhopper and converting it to drop bars, and training through the winter. It was here I first met Tom Stevens, who was then a young Cat 2 riding for the Richard Sachs team, as well as USCF official Bill Dolan, who would take his son Billy. If all this sounds familiar, it is because I think I have written about it before, but too bad.
After my season of "cross" and then, because I worked evenings, training hard all winter, I got my first USCF license in 1987, and you know most of the rest.
Bulletin - Bulletin - Bulletin
We interrupt this blog entry for a friggin' rant. Feltslave, I know you are reading this, so tell those fuckers that you work for to stop putting the plain yogurt in the exact same fucking container as the French Vanilla! I just discovered that I have not one, but two quarts of friggin' plain in the fridge, and this is AFTER making the same mistake once before. God, that shit tastes nasty. WTF? You're the buyer, right? Start buying a different color container for the French Vanilla. We blind fucks deserve to get what we want too. Back to our regularly scheduled drivel...
So who cares how I started riding anyway? I don't know. However, we do have some new guys in the club, and they ask all these dumb questions and do all this dumb shit, and one day it occured to me that I have been where it is that they want to go. Notice it is not that I am where they want to be. They can't be that stupid. No, seriously, fitness is a journey, not a destination. Yes, I know that I have written that before, but it is really true so screw you, I am repeating it. There is no "back in shape." Every day is a new day, and you have to make it happen for you every day, forever.
This week we have the rain. Remember back in February when everyone was bitching about the weather? It hasn't been so friggin' bad, has it? In fact, this has been about the sweetest spring I can remember. The races have all been run in good conditions, the nights and mornings warm enough for training, and the weekends all good. This week, use the time to enable yourself to train when there is no rain. Rest, catch up on chores, visit Mom, fix your bike, all that shit. Consider this "enabling week." Then if things turn better weatherwise next week, you can be a selfish, neglectful mofo all over again and live for the ride. That's all it takes. Thanks for reading.
Monday, May 8, 2006
The Short Version
Not everyone will have time to read the rambling race reports and other stories from this weekend. I understand and want to help, so here is the 30 second sound bite: In a 40 hour period, 750 miles of driving, 100 miles of racing, $0 prize money and 2 decent races for me, $15, 1 second place and 1 crash for KL, 2 new friends with 1 awesome host house, 2 cool team mates (and a team win!) from Canada for KL, and several great molasses cookies at a spectacular grassroots race on a challenging and scenic course in the Finger Lakes region.
Two Days in May (long race report version).
We had a busy 40 hour period this weekend. Starting at 4 am on Saturday, a time I thought I needed to be up for to get to my race at Jiminy Peak, that I thought started at 10 am, and ending at 8 pm on Sunday night when the last bag made it out of the car and back into the house. It turned out that the JP start time was 11:18 am, dohhh! Arriving early for a change would have been nice, but the morning drizzle took some of the fun out of it. At least the temps were moderate and the rain never got too bad. We rolled out right on time, with 86 out of 100 pre-registered 45+ riders showing up to take the start with the 20 rider 55+ group racing with us. A break went at the gun, just a few riders, rolling away by 40 seconds by the time we got to where we turned from 43 onto 7. The pace up 7 was spirited, but nowhere near as high as last year in the 35+. I felt good and easily moved up when the field strung out a bit. The break lost ground and I think some of them came back to us. I had good position at the crest, but then on the short downhill before the turn to the finish climb road, I got swarmed by a maniacal surge into the intersection.
After losing a bit of momentum through the S at the bottom, I nonetheless managed to extricate myself from the cluster of non-climbers and stay in a good rhythm amongst the front fourth of the pack. A groupetto was forming a bit up the road, and possibly the remainder of the break got absorbed by them at this point. I was working pretty hard, but still a bit under my limit, and with a few good wheels left to follow, I stayed patient. Here is where poor judgement took over. Read my last post. Nearing the top, the gap to the leaders was only 5-10 seconds (I'd say 50 meters). I know I had an acceleration left in me at that point. It would have taken me right to the edge, but with the downhill coming I think I could have recovered. Of course I can't say for sure, but I think I could have gotten across. However, caution prevailed; I had a team mate in the break, and I decided not to burn that match. Big mistake. This was the break. They rode up the road, never to be seen again.
Six races into the season, a pattern is emerging. I knew going in that to be successful in the 45+ group, I would need to race more aggressively than I did in the 3's and the 35+. The race is always up the road with these guys. Once again though, I was too conservative and failed to pull the trigger at shooting time.
To make matters worse, shortly after we turned on to 43 again, at this point with the ~15 rider break in sight and only perhaps 40 seconds away, the wheel van moved ahead of us in the main field (which itself was down to about 35 riders. Most of the 55+ and several 45+ were in a 3rd group further back). A few seconds later, we passed the flat victim from the break, who was our team mate. At this point the large BiKyle flyers team had organized a chase and were stringing us out at 50 kph down the backside. Me and the Cronoman dangled at the back to see if our guy was coming back after the change, but apparently it took too long for him to get a wheel. With only two of us, it would have been suicide to wait for him with the field strung out the way it was.
The break must have been moving because even with six Flyers on the front chasing, we did no more than keep them in site. Going up Rt 7 again, I went to the front myself and towed it for a few k's, up through the rocks and by the motels. A few others contributed, but many in the group were just surviving. Over the main climb and back on 43, the Flyers once again got in formation and paced it along nicely. The break was gone though. Up 7 one guy got away and dangled, then the attacks started. I got nowhere, so the Cronoman went when the paced eased and made it up to the other guy. This allowed me to sit on a chase that formed. The other guy (a Benidorm) forged ahead solo, and we absorbed the Cronoman just before the turn. I went to the front and just drilled the hill as hard as I could. The Benidorm guy held his ground. A Toga/Gotham guy jumped by at 800 meters to go and I could not respond. Just after, a Bethel guy (who happens to share my last name) came around too, and I got on him. He drove to the line and did some fancy swerving in an effort to shake me, but I held on and surged by him where it flattens with 50 meters to go. With the large break up the road, this amounted to only a dissappointing 17th place.
Later I learned that KL had been taken down in a stupid crash in the S turn. She was bruised up a bit, and really pissed. BCA has done a great job putting on JP for years, but this year they combined all the women, from Cat 4, which is the lowest women's category, and includes first-time racers, up to the Cat 1's and 2's all in one huge 100+ rider field. KL knew this was a recipe for disaster, so when she got taken down at the front it really set her off. Later at the NEBRA meeting held to discuss the state of women's racing, a lot of the 4's got all whiney when the 2's suggested they should have been excluded (which is a no-brainer. A promoter would NEVER combine Cat 5 men with the Pro 1-2 field, not even in Master's, so why it would be done with women is a mystery). One Cat 4 went on to say "you don't know what it is like to upgrade." Hell-O? Does she really think the 2s were born that way? Not to mention her hypocrisy. What the 2s were advocating was a separate race for the 4s, where they actually could get the points to upgrade rather than struggling to finish. Bike racers, man, what a bunch of ...
Onward to the west we went. We caravaned out to a suburb of Syracuse where one of the Terry girls had hooked us up with host housing. Tim and Susan were awesome, Tim raced at JP and was going to Hollenbeck too, and their recently purchased Victorian gave us more room to spread out in than we have at home. We were very lucky to have been put up by such nice people. The town of Manlius was pretty cool, and the Wegman's supermarket was by far the best food store I have ever been in. Unbelievable selection of everything.
Sunday morning Tim led us down to Hollenbeck at breakneck speed. The Geo was no match for his A4 wagon and we got dropped on a few climbs. Hollenbeck was a great course. Near Cortland, in very hilly apple country, the race headquarters was at a cider mill. The course was a 22 mile loop, pretty flat at first, then a winding climb of about 2k, then some rollers through farmland, more flat, a 600 meter wall, and some descending back to the finish, which was on a spur off the main course. The last 250 meters was about 15%, so no camera was needed, just a sketch artist.
The 35+ was only a one lap race, so I opted for the two lap 3/4 event. 36 riders toed the line. A guy went solo literally at the gun, and a few k out someone else went to bridge. Being the oldest guy in the field, with no teammates, not knowing the course, and having raced 90k the day before, I had more excuses not to chase and not work than the rest of the field combined. Nobody seemed too concerned about these guys, and I thought maybe they just wanted a head start for the climb. Wrong. I guess they hooked up and won by 3 minutes.
The first lap on the long climb I rode near the front and I thought it was pretty hard. Rather than spin and blow up, I took a tip from Markie Mark and powered up in a bigger gear to hold my HR lower. At the top I went as low as the 38x17. I was surprised to find that we didn't lose hardly any riders. Over the rollers a bit of a chase organized, and Tim's team had the most guys, and a few Cornell guys also drove it a bit. I did a turn or two, but being unfamiliar with the course, I sat in most of the time. There was one little climb in the middle of the loop, then we got to the wall. This looked very similar to the thing I got shelled out on at BKR. I stayed focused and took this in my 38x21 and 19 standing. Short as this climb was, we lost more of the field here than on the first climb.
When we went by the finish we heard the break had 3 minutes. Oh well. Rolling down the flat highway, I was reminded that there were 4s in the race when some guy beefed it hard at 45 kph for no apparent reason. He must have been asleep at the switch and touched wheels. As he was sliding down the pavement, he got whacked in the head by the pedal of the guy immediately in front of me, and that stopped his trajectory from crossing my path and I squeaked by on the right. I heard later he was OK, but he can't be feeling too well this morning. Up the long climb I did not allow myself to sink back to my own pace. I jumped on every acceleration even though I was very, very close to my limits. The past few years, on the climbs I have gone into survival mode because I have not had the reserves and recovery to confidently make extreme efforts. After Saturday, I knew it was time to start learning to do that again, so I closed every gap as if my life depended on it. Over the top, we had shelled half of the remaining group, but one by one a lot of them got back on. Some of them took several kilometers to do so. I am thankful that I didn't need to do that.
Saturday's racing had taken its toll on my climbing legs, and I knew that if I went to the finish hill with the group I would be lucky to get in the first 10. I tried an attack on the flat road leading to the wall, but they were having none of it. Others tried too, but the field was chasing everything. The wall confirmed my fears of the finish. I hung on, but clearly I was not one of the strongest that remained. More attacks followed on the downhill, but each time they were brought back. Coming back into the tiny town, about 2k to go, an opportunity presented itself and I went clear. I got about 200-300 meters, maybe 15 seconds at one point. Saving a bit for the hill, I took advantage through the turns onto the narrow farm finish road. There was about a kilometer with a dip in it before the final pitch and they swallowed me up before I got to the steep part, and I could not challenge. I trudged up in my 38x27 and got 19th. This was great training for Sunapee though.
Rolling back down, I waited for the women. A few minutes later, the pace car appeared, and I could see KL's team mate Anna soloing in for the win! Awesome. A few minutes later, KL, Anne, and two women from the Canadian Aquila team chased in. KL ditched the Aquilas on the finish climb to take second. One of the Aquila was a climber and took third, but Anne rounded out the clinic that Team Terry put on by taking fourth.
Afterwards there was a folksy celebration/awards ceremony in the spectacular sunshine. They had apples, great cookies, coffee, cider, lots of dogs frolicking about, very cool. We said our goodbyes and headed home via the southerly loop, very hilly route 206 to 88 through Cooperstown, etc and back to home. No Wal-Mart trucks this trip either.
So now it is only May 8 and I have done six races already. My form is better than I thought it would be, even though I have yet to come up with any impressive results. With two weeks to Sunapee, now I'll do some training. I still have the duathlon on the 27th too. Rain in the forecast this week, so I will make the most of today. Thanks for reading.
After losing a bit of momentum through the S at the bottom, I nonetheless managed to extricate myself from the cluster of non-climbers and stay in a good rhythm amongst the front fourth of the pack. A groupetto was forming a bit up the road, and possibly the remainder of the break got absorbed by them at this point. I was working pretty hard, but still a bit under my limit, and with a few good wheels left to follow, I stayed patient. Here is where poor judgement took over. Read my last post. Nearing the top, the gap to the leaders was only 5-10 seconds (I'd say 50 meters). I know I had an acceleration left in me at that point. It would have taken me right to the edge, but with the downhill coming I think I could have recovered. Of course I can't say for sure, but I think I could have gotten across. However, caution prevailed; I had a team mate in the break, and I decided not to burn that match. Big mistake. This was the break. They rode up the road, never to be seen again.
Six races into the season, a pattern is emerging. I knew going in that to be successful in the 45+ group, I would need to race more aggressively than I did in the 3's and the 35+. The race is always up the road with these guys. Once again though, I was too conservative and failed to pull the trigger at shooting time.
To make matters worse, shortly after we turned on to 43 again, at this point with the ~15 rider break in sight and only perhaps 40 seconds away, the wheel van moved ahead of us in the main field (which itself was down to about 35 riders. Most of the 55+ and several 45+ were in a 3rd group further back). A few seconds later, we passed the flat victim from the break, who was our team mate. At this point the large BiKyle flyers team had organized a chase and were stringing us out at 50 kph down the backside. Me and the Cronoman dangled at the back to see if our guy was coming back after the change, but apparently it took too long for him to get a wheel. With only two of us, it would have been suicide to wait for him with the field strung out the way it was.
The break must have been moving because even with six Flyers on the front chasing, we did no more than keep them in site. Going up Rt 7 again, I went to the front myself and towed it for a few k's, up through the rocks and by the motels. A few others contributed, but many in the group were just surviving. Over the main climb and back on 43, the Flyers once again got in formation and paced it along nicely. The break was gone though. Up 7 one guy got away and dangled, then the attacks started. I got nowhere, so the Cronoman went when the paced eased and made it up to the other guy. This allowed me to sit on a chase that formed. The other guy (a Benidorm) forged ahead solo, and we absorbed the Cronoman just before the turn. I went to the front and just drilled the hill as hard as I could. The Benidorm guy held his ground. A Toga/Gotham guy jumped by at 800 meters to go and I could not respond. Just after, a Bethel guy (who happens to share my last name) came around too, and I got on him. He drove to the line and did some fancy swerving in an effort to shake me, but I held on and surged by him where it flattens with 50 meters to go. With the large break up the road, this amounted to only a dissappointing 17th place.
Later I learned that KL had been taken down in a stupid crash in the S turn. She was bruised up a bit, and really pissed. BCA has done a great job putting on JP for years, but this year they combined all the women, from Cat 4, which is the lowest women's category, and includes first-time racers, up to the Cat 1's and 2's all in one huge 100+ rider field. KL knew this was a recipe for disaster, so when she got taken down at the front it really set her off. Later at the NEBRA meeting held to discuss the state of women's racing, a lot of the 4's got all whiney when the 2's suggested they should have been excluded (which is a no-brainer. A promoter would NEVER combine Cat 5 men with the Pro 1-2 field, not even in Master's, so why it would be done with women is a mystery). One Cat 4 went on to say "you don't know what it is like to upgrade." Hell-O? Does she really think the 2s were born that way? Not to mention her hypocrisy. What the 2s were advocating was a separate race for the 4s, where they actually could get the points to upgrade rather than struggling to finish. Bike racers, man, what a bunch of ...
Onward to the west we went. We caravaned out to a suburb of Syracuse where one of the Terry girls had hooked us up with host housing. Tim and Susan were awesome, Tim raced at JP and was going to Hollenbeck too, and their recently purchased Victorian gave us more room to spread out in than we have at home. We were very lucky to have been put up by such nice people. The town of Manlius was pretty cool, and the Wegman's supermarket was by far the best food store I have ever been in. Unbelievable selection of everything.
Sunday morning Tim led us down to Hollenbeck at breakneck speed. The Geo was no match for his A4 wagon and we got dropped on a few climbs. Hollenbeck was a great course. Near Cortland, in very hilly apple country, the race headquarters was at a cider mill. The course was a 22 mile loop, pretty flat at first, then a winding climb of about 2k, then some rollers through farmland, more flat, a 600 meter wall, and some descending back to the finish, which was on a spur off the main course. The last 250 meters was about 15%, so no camera was needed, just a sketch artist.
The 35+ was only a one lap race, so I opted for the two lap 3/4 event. 36 riders toed the line. A guy went solo literally at the gun, and a few k out someone else went to bridge. Being the oldest guy in the field, with no teammates, not knowing the course, and having raced 90k the day before, I had more excuses not to chase and not work than the rest of the field combined. Nobody seemed too concerned about these guys, and I thought maybe they just wanted a head start for the climb. Wrong. I guess they hooked up and won by 3 minutes.
The first lap on the long climb I rode near the front and I thought it was pretty hard. Rather than spin and blow up, I took a tip from Markie Mark and powered up in a bigger gear to hold my HR lower. At the top I went as low as the 38x17. I was surprised to find that we didn't lose hardly any riders. Over the rollers a bit of a chase organized, and Tim's team had the most guys, and a few Cornell guys also drove it a bit. I did a turn or two, but being unfamiliar with the course, I sat in most of the time. There was one little climb in the middle of the loop, then we got to the wall. This looked very similar to the thing I got shelled out on at BKR. I stayed focused and took this in my 38x21 and 19 standing. Short as this climb was, we lost more of the field here than on the first climb.
When we went by the finish we heard the break had 3 minutes. Oh well. Rolling down the flat highway, I was reminded that there were 4s in the race when some guy beefed it hard at 45 kph for no apparent reason. He must have been asleep at the switch and touched wheels. As he was sliding down the pavement, he got whacked in the head by the pedal of the guy immediately in front of me, and that stopped his trajectory from crossing my path and I squeaked by on the right. I heard later he was OK, but he can't be feeling too well this morning. Up the long climb I did not allow myself to sink back to my own pace. I jumped on every acceleration even though I was very, very close to my limits. The past few years, on the climbs I have gone into survival mode because I have not had the reserves and recovery to confidently make extreme efforts. After Saturday, I knew it was time to start learning to do that again, so I closed every gap as if my life depended on it. Over the top, we had shelled half of the remaining group, but one by one a lot of them got back on. Some of them took several kilometers to do so. I am thankful that I didn't need to do that.
Saturday's racing had taken its toll on my climbing legs, and I knew that if I went to the finish hill with the group I would be lucky to get in the first 10. I tried an attack on the flat road leading to the wall, but they were having none of it. Others tried too, but the field was chasing everything. The wall confirmed my fears of the finish. I hung on, but clearly I was not one of the strongest that remained. More attacks followed on the downhill, but each time they were brought back. Coming back into the tiny town, about 2k to go, an opportunity presented itself and I went clear. I got about 200-300 meters, maybe 15 seconds at one point. Saving a bit for the hill, I took advantage through the turns onto the narrow farm finish road. There was about a kilometer with a dip in it before the final pitch and they swallowed me up before I got to the steep part, and I could not challenge. I trudged up in my 38x27 and got 19th. This was great training for Sunapee though.
Rolling back down, I waited for the women. A few minutes later, the pace car appeared, and I could see KL's team mate Anna soloing in for the win! Awesome. A few minutes later, KL, Anne, and two women from the Canadian Aquila team chased in. KL ditched the Aquilas on the finish climb to take second. One of the Aquila was a climber and took third, but Anne rounded out the clinic that Team Terry put on by taking fourth.
Afterwards there was a folksy celebration/awards ceremony in the spectacular sunshine. They had apples, great cookies, coffee, cider, lots of dogs frolicking about, very cool. We said our goodbyes and headed home via the southerly loop, very hilly route 206 to 88 through Cooperstown, etc and back to home. No Wal-Mart trucks this trip either.
So now it is only May 8 and I have done six races already. My form is better than I thought it would be, even though I have yet to come up with any impressive results. With two weeks to Sunapee, now I'll do some training. I still have the duathlon on the 27th too. Rain in the forecast this week, so I will make the most of today. Thanks for reading.
Friday, May 5, 2006
Jiminy Weekend
The work week just ended for me. Tommorow, Jiminy Peak will take place, and Dave L, Joseph V, and me are all entered. Monday's blogs should be interesting. Joe somehow got stuck in the 4/5 field, which I think means he let his license expire and did not renew it for a while? Dave is in the 4 race, which means three times up the hill for him (hopefully), heh, heh. I of course will be in the 45+, trying to redeem myself after missing the front part of the split field last year in the 35+. Last year the wind was blowing hard up the gentle slope on Route 7, and on the second lap we went along between the rocks at criterium speeds. The elastic snapped and me and the Cronoman just missed being the last ones to make it into the 30 rider front group. We chased the last lap but to no avail.
As noted yesterday, JP was the site of my second race and first crash. On a brighter note, this was also the site of my first win, the 1991 Mass/RI District 30+ Road Race. Later that week I went on to win the 30+ District TT too, riding a 56:02. The overall winner that day was an 18 year old kid by the name of Tyler Hamilton who rode a 53:13. Good times.
So I know I can do it at JP, but the 45+ group is tough. The race will undoubtedly split under pressure at some point, and I'll have to decide whether to burn energy going with it (if I can!) or hang back and wait to see if we might hit the final ascent all together. Should be interesting.
Sunday we are going out west again to the Hollenbeck Road Race. Sounds hilly. There is no 45+, and the 35+ is only one 22 mile lap, so I might even think about the two lap 3/4 race. I guess I should get through JP first...
As noted yesterday, JP was the site of my second race and first crash. On a brighter note, this was also the site of my first win, the 1991 Mass/RI District 30+ Road Race. Later that week I went on to win the 30+ District TT too, riding a 56:02. The overall winner that day was an 18 year old kid by the name of Tyler Hamilton who rode a 53:13. Good times.
So I know I can do it at JP, but the 45+ group is tough. The race will undoubtedly split under pressure at some point, and I'll have to decide whether to burn energy going with it (if I can!) or hang back and wait to see if we might hit the final ascent all together. Should be interesting.
Sunday we are going out west again to the Hollenbeck Road Race. Sounds hilly. There is no 45+, and the 35+ is only one 22 mile lap, so I might even think about the two lap 3/4 race. I guess I should get through JP first...
Thursday, May 4, 2006
Race Riots
Quickly and dirtily: Jiminy Peak rolls off this weekend. The fields are nearly all full, which is fitting of a classic like this that has been on the calendar for decades. I sometimes date myself by calling J.P. "Brodie Mountain" as it was known back when the finish was at the other ski area on Route 7. This was the site of my second USCF Cat 4 race (there was no Cat 5 back then) and my first crash. Suffering a mild concussion (which might explain a lot), I don't remember too much about it.
We (my inner circle) have been discussing rules and category mixing lately. Three reasons, one that the NEBRA board sent out a solicitation for suggested rules changes, and two, there is a meeting after JP to discuss "problems with women's racing" in which low turnout is cited as one problem. First of all, drawing conclusions at the end of friggin' April for turnout this season makes no sense whatsoever. Second of all, if you compare the number of racer days for men/women and compare it with the number of licensees for each in the region, my guess is the women's turnout would be as good or better than the mens, especially if you take events with no separate women's category (such as Wompatuck) out of the calculation. Last but certainly not least, we have category mixing. Anyone who can remember back more than 10 years knows that before Gerri Moriarty started the Cat 4 women's series, a promoter was lucky to get a total of 25 women for a race. Separating out the Cat 4's brought people into the sport, and just look at what we have today. This concept seems to have been lost. Now we have combined 3/4 women, or worse, 1-4. Many races have both a 3/4 and a 1-3. If Cat 3 women wanted to race with the 4's, then they shouldn't have upgraded. Combining Cat 1-4 (as they did at JP this year) is just nuts! Keep in mind that there is no Cat 5 for women. We generally prohibit Cat 5 men from racing with Master fields, even though only a handful of Masters are above Cat 3 (and many who are downgrade so they can cherry pick Cat 3 senior races with good prize lists). So why is it OK to make Cat 1 and 2 women races with FIRST TIME RIDERS???? Plain and simple, it is not, and it does not benefit either group. The current trend toward category mixing in the men's fields is not much better either. I agree that promoters have tough choices, but mixing beginners in just because they are women is wrong.
I am also surprised that thus far nobody has taken my flame bait on the cyclocross barrier rule. Maybe I'll have to try again in the fall. Canton, Chainbiter, the Gloucesters, and Noho all rocked because they were fast courses where you stayed on the bike and RACED! Back in the bad old days of Steven's "sundial" courses where you never rode more than 60 seconds without a barrier, after 20 minutes 90% of the field was trudging around in survival mode with no concern whatsoever about their position. We were just trying to finish without breaking a leg or a neck. Now we have riders in 50th place drafting, attacking, and setting up for sprint finishes. Almost like bike racing! Having Stevens skirt the rules at Nats with his "stairs" was a disservice to gains the sport has made. That course would have had far better racing and less lapped riders if the rules had been adhered to. Allowing the changes was a mistake by the officials.
Yes folks, another longish entry today (well, not really). I am taking advantage of my "easy" week and enjoying one of my favorite pastimes, toast and coffee while the early morning sun streams in the window. Yesterday I just spun 50 minutes on the trainer to wake the legs up after my first two days in a row off the bike this year. Later at lunch I ran 40 minutes (my usual loop plus a short extension). My running speed seems to be lacking lately. I thought running was supposed to slow down my riding, but it seems the other way around. Now I am going to pack up my MTB and gear so that after work I can head over to Blue Hills and ride around traffic free. If I feel good I might do some efforts on the access road, but I'll have nice easy gears if I want to ride part of it without undue stress. Thanks for reading.
We (my inner circle) have been discussing rules and category mixing lately. Three reasons, one that the NEBRA board sent out a solicitation for suggested rules changes, and two, there is a meeting after JP to discuss "problems with women's racing" in which low turnout is cited as one problem. First of all, drawing conclusions at the end of friggin' April for turnout this season makes no sense whatsoever. Second of all, if you compare the number of racer days for men/women and compare it with the number of licensees for each in the region, my guess is the women's turnout would be as good or better than the mens, especially if you take events with no separate women's category (such as Wompatuck) out of the calculation. Last but certainly not least, we have category mixing. Anyone who can remember back more than 10 years knows that before Gerri Moriarty started the Cat 4 women's series, a promoter was lucky to get a total of 25 women for a race. Separating out the Cat 4's brought people into the sport, and just look at what we have today. This concept seems to have been lost. Now we have combined 3/4 women, or worse, 1-4. Many races have both a 3/4 and a 1-3. If Cat 3 women wanted to race with the 4's, then they shouldn't have upgraded. Combining Cat 1-4 (as they did at JP this year) is just nuts! Keep in mind that there is no Cat 5 for women. We generally prohibit Cat 5 men from racing with Master fields, even though only a handful of Masters are above Cat 3 (and many who are downgrade so they can cherry pick Cat 3 senior races with good prize lists). So why is it OK to make Cat 1 and 2 women races with FIRST TIME RIDERS???? Plain and simple, it is not, and it does not benefit either group. The current trend toward category mixing in the men's fields is not much better either. I agree that promoters have tough choices, but mixing beginners in just because they are women is wrong.
I am also surprised that thus far nobody has taken my flame bait on the cyclocross barrier rule. Maybe I'll have to try again in the fall. Canton, Chainbiter, the Gloucesters, and Noho all rocked because they were fast courses where you stayed on the bike and RACED! Back in the bad old days of Steven's "sundial" courses where you never rode more than 60 seconds without a barrier, after 20 minutes 90% of the field was trudging around in survival mode with no concern whatsoever about their position. We were just trying to finish without breaking a leg or a neck. Now we have riders in 50th place drafting, attacking, and setting up for sprint finishes. Almost like bike racing! Having Stevens skirt the rules at Nats with his "stairs" was a disservice to gains the sport has made. That course would have had far better racing and less lapped riders if the rules had been adhered to. Allowing the changes was a mistake by the officials.
Yes folks, another longish entry today (well, not really). I am taking advantage of my "easy" week and enjoying one of my favorite pastimes, toast and coffee while the early morning sun streams in the window. Yesterday I just spun 50 minutes on the trainer to wake the legs up after my first two days in a row off the bike this year. Later at lunch I ran 40 minutes (my usual loop plus a short extension). My running speed seems to be lacking lately. I thought running was supposed to slow down my riding, but it seems the other way around. Now I am going to pack up my MTB and gear so that after work I can head over to Blue Hills and ride around traffic free. If I feel good I might do some efforts on the access road, but I'll have nice easy gears if I want to ride part of it without undue stress. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, May 3, 2006
Toastahs in Whistah ya bastidds
Yesterday's blog entry got an unfavorable review for "not being entertaining." Beeotch. What do you think this is, the Colbert Report? In person, being funny is a bit easier. If all else fails you can laugh at my Hyde Pahk accent ya bastidd. Making you chuckle with the written word requires creativity, time, energy, and most of all good ideas.
I had some ideas. The master's pack makes for easy fodder. I thought about noting that when our peloton chatter turns to 'roids, it is hemmaroids we are talking about, not steroids. Yes, we are old and have health problems. I can't believe Viagra doesn't sponsor a cycling team yet. Maybe it's because most masters are married and don't need it. Then there is the facial hair. Cyclists aren't supposed to have any. They just don't. Yeah, Boonen lets himself get a bit scruffy now and then, but that's a new generation thing. Past champions were all clean shaven. Apparently a lot of masters did not get the memo, and the back half of the 45+ pack looks like a Three Dog Night reunion. I mistaked one guy at Perinton for the Orange County Chopper dude.
But see, you humor is like intervals -- it can't be forced. I shouldn't start a paragraph, or sentence for that matter, with but. I am using "it" as my subject too much. There is an awful lot of "I" in my recent crap too. Bad, bad, bad. This whole blogging thing was supposed to help me polish my writing a bit. Now look at this junk.
Then there is plagurism. Not even sure I spelled that correctly. No, I don't intentionally copy anything, and I try to give proper attribution. However, some things, well-received things, are "inspired" by the works of others. After all, this is just a friggin' blog. For the record, I try not to recycle anything without at least adding something meaningful to it, and of course I strive for originality. I don't go out in public enough to know what is a cliche, so some of that stuff is just parrallel thinking. However, the line (Tuesday, April 11, 2006 post) about distress signals sent by the body was too close to what is in Doughty's book to not be considered stealing, so I throw myself at the mercy of the blogland court. The attribution has been added to the archive.
Leading out Big Mig at Wompatuck. Yes, I hope so. I saw him at the Banshee Club a few weeks back and he wasn't looking like the climber he once was. Now that I think of it, he was scheduled to run the James Joyce Ramble 10K this past Sunday, so let me go look up his result...
(this is the part where you go back to work for a few seconds and pretend to be busy. Sorry I didn't provide a break like this yesterday)
OK, 46:57, 333rd place. Not too shabby. I think he said his goal was 48 minutes. So maybe he'll have the confidence to return to Wompatuck. I will be going down soon, but yesterday it rained and the past few weeks it just didn't suit my schedule. I will have to work my runs in on Mondays or on Tuesday mornings, then again later in the week. This morning I took out a USAT license and entered the Rye by the Sea Duathlon on May 27. This means I will have to keep running for at least the rest of May. I have only done one multi-sport event in the past, a low-key MTB duathlon, the Mud, Sweat, and Gears Fiske race in Ashland, way back in the early 90's. That was something like 2-7-2 and the MTB portion was very non-technical. My running was piss poor then, and I got on the bike in the back half of the ragged field after running 8:30's or something. Storming through the wobbly riders, cyclocrossing my way through the tight parts, I think I was the second one off the bike. Of course, on the run I died and was passed by several people. I think I ended up tenth. Rye should go better. It is a 5k-30k-5k and I think the runs are actually only 3 miles and on grass. Hopefully I can do respectable runs and take to the bike in a decent position, and finish the bike leg near the front. This gives me something to train for.
Yes, I know, not funny again. I took two days completely off for the first time this year. Today I am trying to ramp up gently. Hopefully we will see drier weather at Jiminy on Saturday. Thanks for reading. Ya bastidds!
I had some ideas. The master's pack makes for easy fodder. I thought about noting that when our peloton chatter turns to 'roids, it is hemmaroids we are talking about, not steroids. Yes, we are old and have health problems. I can't believe Viagra doesn't sponsor a cycling team yet. Maybe it's because most masters are married and don't need it. Then there is the facial hair. Cyclists aren't supposed to have any. They just don't. Yeah, Boonen lets himself get a bit scruffy now and then, but that's a new generation thing. Past champions were all clean shaven. Apparently a lot of masters did not get the memo, and the back half of the 45+ pack looks like a Three Dog Night reunion. I mistaked one guy at Perinton for the Orange County Chopper dude.
But see, you humor is like intervals -- it can't be forced. I shouldn't start a paragraph, or sentence for that matter, with but. I am using "it" as my subject too much. There is an awful lot of "I" in my recent crap too. Bad, bad, bad. This whole blogging thing was supposed to help me polish my writing a bit. Now look at this junk.
Then there is plagurism. Not even sure I spelled that correctly. No, I don't intentionally copy anything, and I try to give proper attribution. However, some things, well-received things, are "inspired" by the works of others. After all, this is just a friggin' blog. For the record, I try not to recycle anything without at least adding something meaningful to it, and of course I strive for originality. I don't go out in public enough to know what is a cliche, so some of that stuff is just parrallel thinking. However, the line (Tuesday, April 11, 2006 post) about distress signals sent by the body was too close to what is in Doughty's book to not be considered stealing, so I throw myself at the mercy of the blogland court. The attribution has been added to the archive.
Leading out Big Mig at Wompatuck. Yes, I hope so. I saw him at the Banshee Club a few weeks back and he wasn't looking like the climber he once was. Now that I think of it, he was scheduled to run the James Joyce Ramble 10K this past Sunday, so let me go look up his result...
(this is the part where you go back to work for a few seconds and pretend to be busy. Sorry I didn't provide a break like this yesterday)
OK, 46:57, 333rd place. Not too shabby. I think he said his goal was 48 minutes. So maybe he'll have the confidence to return to Wompatuck. I will be going down soon, but yesterday it rained and the past few weeks it just didn't suit my schedule. I will have to work my runs in on Mondays or on Tuesday mornings, then again later in the week. This morning I took out a USAT license and entered the Rye by the Sea Duathlon on May 27. This means I will have to keep running for at least the rest of May. I have only done one multi-sport event in the past, a low-key MTB duathlon, the Mud, Sweat, and Gears Fiske race in Ashland, way back in the early 90's. That was something like 2-7-2 and the MTB portion was very non-technical. My running was piss poor then, and I got on the bike in the back half of the ragged field after running 8:30's or something. Storming through the wobbly riders, cyclocrossing my way through the tight parts, I think I was the second one off the bike. Of course, on the run I died and was passed by several people. I think I ended up tenth. Rye should go better. It is a 5k-30k-5k and I think the runs are actually only 3 miles and on grass. Hopefully I can do respectable runs and take to the bike in a decent position, and finish the bike leg near the front. This gives me something to train for.
Yes, I know, not funny again. I took two days completely off for the first time this year. Today I am trying to ramp up gently. Hopefully we will see drier weather at Jiminy on Saturday. Thanks for reading. Ya bastidds!
Monday, May 1, 2006
Goose Egg
That is what is going in the training diary today. Starting the month with a big blank white day troubles me, but it should not. The first day of the month is just another day. As much as I don't want to take a rest week going into an important race like Jiminy, my current feeling is that a few days of easy or nothing would be best. With rain in the forecast, this plan works well anyway.
April ended with 38 hours on the bike and 5.5 running, which brings my annual volumes up to 107 and 25 hours riding/running respectively. This amounts to almost the same amount of cycling as last year, but much more running. The cycling was also far more fruitful. Last year was my first season in years where I did a lot of road racing, starting at Ninigret in April, doing Jiminy, Sunapee, Raymond, Monson and another Ninigret early on. July and August brought WMSR, Ascutney, Bow, Mt. A and then GMSR and Haverhill in September. Topping it off with a full season of cross brought it home with over 7 straight months of competitions. A bit burnt out by December, sure, but it all took me into this winter more fit than in years. The mild weather, running and basic discipline with regard to health and fitness brought me into the spring in a better position to benefit from my training hours. All this means I got more out of the same training.
This month, after Jiminy and Hollenbeck, the only definite is Sunapee. The Colebrook TT is not on the calendar yet, and the Wachusett circuit race was cancelled, so that leaves Memorial Day weekend open. The Rye Duathlon is a possibility, and one reason why I continue to run. Right now, since I have yet to go to Wompatuck, the running has not seemed to hurt my cycling. However, just last week I read an article by AFHM where he lectures that nothing will kill your speed like running. I am not sure if Adam ever had the gut of an out of shape guy in his mid forties, but I know from experience that hurts your cycling a bit too. So I will take my chances with the running. I would like to run at least twice a week until the end of May, and possibly up until the Father's Day 5 mile race at the Children's Museum here in town. After that I will table the running until late August or early September.
I'm not sure if I am going to race 'cross this year. Last year on the new style fast courses with minimal barriers, my body endured quite well. The nice weather didn't hurt either. This year the feds have foolishly rescinded the 2 barrier rule, so I fear a return to the not so good old days of stupid courses that amount to little more than a dismount/remount contest. This year's racing consisted of pedaling courses that were, after all, BIKE RACES! A vocal minority squawked about the lack of barriers, but the unreal success and growth of the sport should tell people something. Anyway, I am too old to go back to the cartilage-ripping obstacle course style race. Most likely I will pick and choose races and be a fair weather crosser. This will leave more time for running races too.
Taking the summer off from running will allow me to focus on the WMSR TT. This is the most important race for me. Short TTs like this are where I am at my best, and as the club race, with very strong Master's competition, this is the one where I want to do well. It works out that Monson and Bow come on the heels of WMSR. Hopefully I can carry some form into them too. Today at work they posted the summer oncall schedule; the good news is I only got stuck with one night, the bad news is that I drew the night before Bow. Hopefully I will be able to trade that one off for something more favorable.
What else? Oh yeah, a Palmer report. Palmer is a great race promoted by the infamous Mike Norton. Two years ago when I decided to try racing again, Palmer was where I made my debut. The course is basically the same as the old Brimfield course where the Mass/RI district road race was held for years, except that back in the day we rode all the way into Warren, under the railroad bridge, and up the steep part of the climb every lap. Districts was 5 laps too, and no, I never did finish. The only senior districts I ever finished was different course that also went through Warren, actually going backwards down the current Palmer course before veering over to Ware and around clockwise up route 9. That was 115 miles and the longest race I ever did, and I got 18th.
So anyway, already being familiar and comfy on the Palmer parcours made the race a natural favorite. The current layout has only gentle climbing in the 3-4% grade range. Somehow it all adds up, and with the drag race down route 20 and subsequent downhill, the 58 mile race always feels like about a 35 miler. This year, in the 45+ we had about 100 starters. I thought we were behaving pretty well. Kinnin, our follow car official, apparently didn't agree. When we turned onto Route 67, or whatever it is, the wind was strong from the right. So naturally the field ignored the ample shoulder and we all pushed over as far to the left as we could in an attempt to echelon a bit. Of course, the pace got all surgy from the wind, and each time it slowed we would balloon a bit across the yellow line, drawing the ire of Ms. Payson. Honestly, in my years I have been in dozens of races where the rider behaviour was far, far worse than this one, but Kinnin decided she had to pull over the entire field for a lecture. I don't know why she didn't just take down the numbers of some of the alleged offenders and penalize them, but instead she made a scene out on the road.
Eventually we got underway again and we were all little angels from that point on. The next time past the finish line, where the long stretch of gradual climbing begins, I moved up easily as the group strung out. This continued all the way up the climb. When we got back on Rt 19, I could hear a lot of panting, and gaps started to open. Some riders were moving back like semis with the flashers on. We may have lost some people there. The pressure stayed on for a while, but when we came all the way back around to take the bell, the group was together. The last time up the hill I stayed near the front. Attacks were going near the top, but it was windy and I didn't think they could stick. One formed, and one of my teammates covered it. I could have gone, but I hung back and they dangled off the front a bit. However, after some reshuffling, a larger group started to move away, and since I had a guy up there, I eased at the front, as did someone from another represented team. The break flew away on the downhill and when we got to Rt 20 they were gone.
Much of the pack then conceded. Bethel missed the move and their captain yelled at them to chase, but they didn't look too interested. The break easily had a minute when we turned back toward Warren. With about 8k to go, more attacks started, as everyone figured the break would not be caught anyway, so even teams with riders up the road were free to race for the minor placings. I covered some moves, going from wheel to wheel up front. Dimitry was going, and I knew as a former Soviet Olympian he had the pedigree to make it stick. But he came back, and then Steamboat was about 50 meters off so I went. I thought I gave him enough warning, but he did not get on when I went by and I was alone. Nothing left to do but put my head down and go. Glancing back, I saw I had a sizeable gap, but one CCB was coming across. Dimitry? Sweet! I eased up a bit and then saw it was George. Hey, that's OK, I saw him win Haverhill solo last year, so he has a motor. I pulled hard to give him a chance to rest from his effort to cross the gap and we rode past the 3K to go painted on the road. He took one good pull, but then that was it. I guess he was toast. With no choice left but to drive it myself, we could see the break up ahead! If we had more power, we'd have made it, but with only one guy working, no way. I started to fade as we went over the railroad bridge with 1K to go, and with George sitting on I wasn't going to kill myself and then have him jump me. He still didn't come around, and our 25 second gap quickly evaporated when the remainder of the group wound up the sprint. We were swallowed about 300 meters out and I crawled across the line mid pack in 61st. Oh well, good effort. My teammate got 7th in the break of 7.
In other news, congratulations to Justin Spinelli for taking third at the Tour of Shenandoah! He is a great guy and a great rider and it is good to see him back racing and having fun. Matt DeCanio took Lanterne Rouge in his return to the peloton, racing for his own Stolen Underground team. Matt is a bit of a loose cannon, and his site is not exactly a model of responsible journalism, but his fight to expose doping in cycling has nonetheless pulled a lot of people's heads out of the sand. Doping is rampant, and EVERYONE looks the other way. I cannot believe that it is just a few bad apples. The quantity of PE drugs seized in the police raids makes it obvious that there are a lot of users. Riders from dozens of teams have been busted over the years, and I truly believe doping is institutional within pro cycling. No, it is not fair to paint everyone as a doper, but until more people within the sport step forward and testify about what they have seen, heard, and been exposed to, even the clean riders will race under a veil of suspicion. They may not all take dope, but some of them know who does, yet they choose to remain quiet. This is not good enough; doping cannot be tolerated. Those who come forward should not be persecuted as traitors, yet they are. That tells me something.
Matt and Justin were very courageous in their admission of being led to a life of dope when they got European pro contracts. Read their story, and believe what you will, but then think if you had a teenager with a promising future and a real chance to race in Europe for a pro team, would you send them over there? These kids thought they were getting a great opportunity too, but it did not work out so well for them. Dopers suck, and anyone who just accepts doping as part of the sport never finished second to a doper while riding clean themselves.
Thanks for reading!
April ended with 38 hours on the bike and 5.5 running, which brings my annual volumes up to 107 and 25 hours riding/running respectively. This amounts to almost the same amount of cycling as last year, but much more running. The cycling was also far more fruitful. Last year was my first season in years where I did a lot of road racing, starting at Ninigret in April, doing Jiminy, Sunapee, Raymond, Monson and another Ninigret early on. July and August brought WMSR, Ascutney, Bow, Mt. A and then GMSR and Haverhill in September. Topping it off with a full season of cross brought it home with over 7 straight months of competitions. A bit burnt out by December, sure, but it all took me into this winter more fit than in years. The mild weather, running and basic discipline with regard to health and fitness brought me into the spring in a better position to benefit from my training hours. All this means I got more out of the same training.
This month, after Jiminy and Hollenbeck, the only definite is Sunapee. The Colebrook TT is not on the calendar yet, and the Wachusett circuit race was cancelled, so that leaves Memorial Day weekend open. The Rye Duathlon is a possibility, and one reason why I continue to run. Right now, since I have yet to go to Wompatuck, the running has not seemed to hurt my cycling. However, just last week I read an article by AFHM where he lectures that nothing will kill your speed like running. I am not sure if Adam ever had the gut of an out of shape guy in his mid forties, but I know from experience that hurts your cycling a bit too. So I will take my chances with the running. I would like to run at least twice a week until the end of May, and possibly up until the Father's Day 5 mile race at the Children's Museum here in town. After that I will table the running until late August or early September.
I'm not sure if I am going to race 'cross this year. Last year on the new style fast courses with minimal barriers, my body endured quite well. The nice weather didn't hurt either. This year the feds have foolishly rescinded the 2 barrier rule, so I fear a return to the not so good old days of stupid courses that amount to little more than a dismount/remount contest. This year's racing consisted of pedaling courses that were, after all, BIKE RACES! A vocal minority squawked about the lack of barriers, but the unreal success and growth of the sport should tell people something. Anyway, I am too old to go back to the cartilage-ripping obstacle course style race. Most likely I will pick and choose races and be a fair weather crosser. This will leave more time for running races too.
Taking the summer off from running will allow me to focus on the WMSR TT. This is the most important race for me. Short TTs like this are where I am at my best, and as the club race, with very strong Master's competition, this is the one where I want to do well. It works out that Monson and Bow come on the heels of WMSR. Hopefully I can carry some form into them too. Today at work they posted the summer oncall schedule; the good news is I only got stuck with one night, the bad news is that I drew the night before Bow. Hopefully I will be able to trade that one off for something more favorable.
What else? Oh yeah, a Palmer report. Palmer is a great race promoted by the infamous Mike Norton. Two years ago when I decided to try racing again, Palmer was where I made my debut. The course is basically the same as the old Brimfield course where the Mass/RI district road race was held for years, except that back in the day we rode all the way into Warren, under the railroad bridge, and up the steep part of the climb every lap. Districts was 5 laps too, and no, I never did finish. The only senior districts I ever finished was different course that also went through Warren, actually going backwards down the current Palmer course before veering over to Ware and around clockwise up route 9. That was 115 miles and the longest race I ever did, and I got 18th.
So anyway, already being familiar and comfy on the Palmer parcours made the race a natural favorite. The current layout has only gentle climbing in the 3-4% grade range. Somehow it all adds up, and with the drag race down route 20 and subsequent downhill, the 58 mile race always feels like about a 35 miler. This year, in the 45+ we had about 100 starters. I thought we were behaving pretty well. Kinnin, our follow car official, apparently didn't agree. When we turned onto Route 67, or whatever it is, the wind was strong from the right. So naturally the field ignored the ample shoulder and we all pushed over as far to the left as we could in an attempt to echelon a bit. Of course, the pace got all surgy from the wind, and each time it slowed we would balloon a bit across the yellow line, drawing the ire of Ms. Payson. Honestly, in my years I have been in dozens of races where the rider behaviour was far, far worse than this one, but Kinnin decided she had to pull over the entire field for a lecture. I don't know why she didn't just take down the numbers of some of the alleged offenders and penalize them, but instead she made a scene out on the road.
Eventually we got underway again and we were all little angels from that point on. The next time past the finish line, where the long stretch of gradual climbing begins, I moved up easily as the group strung out. This continued all the way up the climb. When we got back on Rt 19, I could hear a lot of panting, and gaps started to open. Some riders were moving back like semis with the flashers on. We may have lost some people there. The pressure stayed on for a while, but when we came all the way back around to take the bell, the group was together. The last time up the hill I stayed near the front. Attacks were going near the top, but it was windy and I didn't think they could stick. One formed, and one of my teammates covered it. I could have gone, but I hung back and they dangled off the front a bit. However, after some reshuffling, a larger group started to move away, and since I had a guy up there, I eased at the front, as did someone from another represented team. The break flew away on the downhill and when we got to Rt 20 they were gone.
Much of the pack then conceded. Bethel missed the move and their captain yelled at them to chase, but they didn't look too interested. The break easily had a minute when we turned back toward Warren. With about 8k to go, more attacks started, as everyone figured the break would not be caught anyway, so even teams with riders up the road were free to race for the minor placings. I covered some moves, going from wheel to wheel up front. Dimitry was going, and I knew as a former Soviet Olympian he had the pedigree to make it stick. But he came back, and then Steamboat was about 50 meters off so I went. I thought I gave him enough warning, but he did not get on when I went by and I was alone. Nothing left to do but put my head down and go. Glancing back, I saw I had a sizeable gap, but one CCB was coming across. Dimitry? Sweet! I eased up a bit and then saw it was George. Hey, that's OK, I saw him win Haverhill solo last year, so he has a motor. I pulled hard to give him a chance to rest from his effort to cross the gap and we rode past the 3K to go painted on the road. He took one good pull, but then that was it. I guess he was toast. With no choice left but to drive it myself, we could see the break up ahead! If we had more power, we'd have made it, but with only one guy working, no way. I started to fade as we went over the railroad bridge with 1K to go, and with George sitting on I wasn't going to kill myself and then have him jump me. He still didn't come around, and our 25 second gap quickly evaporated when the remainder of the group wound up the sprint. We were swallowed about 300 meters out and I crawled across the line mid pack in 61st. Oh well, good effort. My teammate got 7th in the break of 7.
In other news, congratulations to Justin Spinelli for taking third at the Tour of Shenandoah! He is a great guy and a great rider and it is good to see him back racing and having fun. Matt DeCanio took Lanterne Rouge in his return to the peloton, racing for his own Stolen Underground team. Matt is a bit of a loose cannon, and his site is not exactly a model of responsible journalism, but his fight to expose doping in cycling has nonetheless pulled a lot of people's heads out of the sand. Doping is rampant, and EVERYONE looks the other way. I cannot believe that it is just a few bad apples. The quantity of PE drugs seized in the police raids makes it obvious that there are a lot of users. Riders from dozens of teams have been busted over the years, and I truly believe doping is institutional within pro cycling. No, it is not fair to paint everyone as a doper, but until more people within the sport step forward and testify about what they have seen, heard, and been exposed to, even the clean riders will race under a veil of suspicion. They may not all take dope, but some of them know who does, yet they choose to remain quiet. This is not good enough; doping cannot be tolerated. Those who come forward should not be persecuted as traitors, yet they are. That tells me something.
Matt and Justin were very courageous in their admission of being led to a life of dope when they got European pro contracts. Read their story, and believe what you will, but then think if you had a teenager with a promising future and a real chance to race in Europe for a pro team, would you send them over there? These kids thought they were getting a great opportunity too, but it did not work out so well for them. Dopers suck, and anyone who just accepts doping as part of the sport never finished second to a doper while riding clean themselves.
Thanks for reading!
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