Rather than just write up a race report for the Sturbridge-Palmer weekend, I thought I'd share a little discussion I had with one of my wiser teammates while warming up yesterday. John says to me "Most people don't know how to recover. They think a two hour tempo ride is a recovery ride." Amen bro. It's easy to say "hard enough on your hard days, and easy enough on your easy days," but it's hard to do. If you accomplish the former, the latter should come naturally. So far this season, I haven't felt the need for too many recovery rides. As often happens with masters with more to do than train and play video games, my recovery days usually mean late nights at work and no riding at all. It's not ideal, but I get more recovery that way than I would with a two hour tempo ride.
John went on to detail how he avoids group rides unless he wants some hard work between races. Again I agree. I feel training alone is very important, because you can always make the ride hard enough without making it too hard. When I'm recovering, I ride around the neighborhood in my climbing gears, barely keeping pace with the little kids on their BMX bikes. Living in suburbia has its advantages, because I always find that open roads in more rural terrain encourages one to push a bit more than tooling around here does, with stop signs every quarter mile.
I'm writing this because I'm tired. Last night after Palmer I was really tired. Not smoked legs, just overall drained of energy. Sturbridge seemed pretty hard. In the past I've always skipped it and saved myself for Palmer on Sunday. By in the past, I mean 2004 to present. You see, Palmer 2004 was my first race back after a seven year hiatus, so it feels like a homecoming of sorts. This year I went to Sturbridge to try to help the team. The race is on a seven mile circuit, with an extremely fast downhill run into the finish. The unique thing about this race is the promoter, Mike Norton, secured use of the entire road for every field, so we had a rolling enclosure and no yellow line rule. This guaranteed aggressive racing, because even though some of the course is on fairly narrow country roads, there was plenty of room for our 75 rider Master 45+ field.
Right away I knew it wasn't a good finish for me. It also didn't look good for a break. We were flying, doing laps in the 15-16 minute range (~27 mph average). The finish stretch was over 40 mph. I just sat in for three laps, then had a go at an attack just to warm the legs and see how it felt. I got a nice gap, but didn't dig hard and got reeled in on the hill a few miles later. Laps four and five were more aggressive, and eventually Eric Pearce (Bethel) bridged to and rode right through a four man break on the hill. He got about a minute up the road solo, and Tom Officer also got away, but never caught Pearce. On the sixth of seven laps, I attacked and bridged up to Tony Settel (Demo's Wonder Wheel), who was chasing Officer solo. I caught him on the little climb before the finish stretch, but he was laboring and called to me to wait. I hesitated, but we were only a few hundred meters clear of the pack, and he looked spent, so I made a split second decision to keep going. Maybe I should have waited, as he's really strong and would have been good company on the flats if given a few seconds to recover.
I pushed on but didn't make much of a dent in neither Officer's nor Pearce's lead before retreating to the pack shortly before the final time up the largest "climb" on the rolling course. Over the top Officer was still in sight, as was Pearce, at maybe 25 and 45 seconds respectively. After the downhill I recovered a bit and went to the front of the single file chase line, where Gearworks had a man on the front pulling hard. I took over from him and did about two k in the 12, taking it into the bottom of the little rise where I'd caught Settel a lap earlier. Spent, I swung off with Officer at only about ten seconds and Pearce looking like he was easily within reach of the sprinting pack. I lost contact before the finish road, and just rolled in. Later I found they got Officer, but Pearce miraculously stayed away and took the win by about 20 meters over the sprinting field. Duano and John got in the top ten, but I was pretty pissed that we didn't catch the break. I fucked this one up. I should not have tried to bridge solo, as it was too much of a longshot. Instead, I should have used my energy to pace the field more on the last lap. I was proud of the effort I put in to pull back Officer on the last lap, but it wasn't enough.
Short version of the Palmer report: The race seemed hard and fast, but my average HR was only 136. I think this means I was tired from Sturbridge, as well as very crafty and experienced at Palmer. I managed to ride a decent race without expending too much energy. I made one effort to assist with keeping the race-long five man break from getting too far ahead, and then with about 10K to go when they looked to be buzzard meat, just twenty seconds ahead, I made a bridge effort. I thought at least one or two riders might come with me, and if three of us made the bridge then we might be able to rejuvenate the break and keep it away to the end, and then use our fresher legs to finish it off. I guess nobody else felt the same way, as I ended up almost getting across solo before the field wound it up from behind, reeling in me, then all of them a short time later.
This was where the fun really started. The run into town was pretty insane. Usually at Palmer, the field gets very pointy at the front and the attacks fly and it's fast but pretty safe. This year it was an angry swarm of bees, like a Cat 3 race. I was heading up the gutter when two or three guys tangled hard in front of me, but thanks to some superb bike handling by two of them, they somehow stayed up and I escaped what looked like a certain "right in front of me nowhere to go" wreck unscathed. In the final two K I got on Graydon Steven's wheel as he made his way up the left, taking serious end of race liberties with the yellow line rule. At 400 meters to go in the uphill sprint, we were about twenty back, out in the wind a bit, but he was still moving forward. At 200 meters he pulled in to the right to force himself a spot in the train, but I choked and started my sprint up the left side, where there was plenty of racing room. Too little, too early, as I had nothing and the sprint wound up on the right and left me like I was nailed to the road. I went backwards at least a dozen spots before blowing up completely and sitting down with fifty meters to go as another dozen swarmed by. I haven't seen the results, but I was at least thirty back at the finish, maybe more. John G. got 7th and the Cronoman rode the train for 10th, so it wasn't a total loss for the team. That's it for now, go get some recovery, thanks for reading.
since 2006
Monday, April 30, 2007
Friday, April 27, 2007
Too many pints
Went to Norwood center with the work crew last night. Started at Conrad's and finished at Napper Tandy's. I was the oldest one there. There will be no training today...
Since I knew we were going out at night, I snuck out for a lunch ride around Blue Hills earlier in the afternoon. There was some construction out on 138, and traffic was all jammed up, so I went around on the short loop by Reebok that comes out across from the access road. Even though I only had this 10 minutes of warmup, I didn't feel like dealing with traffic so I just headed up the hill in my 41x27. I am plodding along slowly, trying not to go too hard, planning to do a few repeats. About a third of the way up I suddenly feel a push from behind. I turned around and it is none other than Markie Mark, laughing hysterically. He had another guy with him. He must have just been riding it for the hell of it, as he stayed in the saddle the entire way, just powering up at a (for him) comfy pace. Of course he rode right through me. I ended in about 6:20.
Turned around and rode back down behind those guys, but they rode off at the bottom, and I turned and went back up, trying to go even easier this time. I thought I was doing OK but I must have really died near the top and it came to 6:30. I did a few circles for extra recovery time, then just after starting down I see a guy in a Bike Link kit flying up. It was Colman O (guy with white beard featured in the Ninigret break photo a few posts back). He is an animal. At the bottom I waited for him, and we chatted a bit. He said his best ever was around 4:30. I told him I thought Markie had reported a 3:40, and he was incredulous. I'm like dude, he was US Pro champion, don't you think he's a little faster than us?
Colman headed back up so I followed. Once again, I thought I was doing OK, sort of keeping pace on the less steep lower half. Once we got to the switchback he was pretty much gone. I plodded up at least 30 seconds down, ending at exactly six minutes, at least matching my earlier attempts from this year.
I've got Sturbridge and Palmer on deck this weekend. Never did Sturbridge before; I don't think it's a good race for me personally, but I'm having so much fun with our team this year I thought it best to go. Everyone is healthy and it's both more enjoyable and satisfying to work on a team effort and try to accomplish something. It helps that we're all great friends. KL will have an almost full squad from Terry there too, so that will be fun to watch. Thanks for reading.
Since I knew we were going out at night, I snuck out for a lunch ride around Blue Hills earlier in the afternoon. There was some construction out on 138, and traffic was all jammed up, so I went around on the short loop by Reebok that comes out across from the access road. Even though I only had this 10 minutes of warmup, I didn't feel like dealing with traffic so I just headed up the hill in my 41x27. I am plodding along slowly, trying not to go too hard, planning to do a few repeats. About a third of the way up I suddenly feel a push from behind. I turned around and it is none other than Markie Mark, laughing hysterically. He had another guy with him. He must have just been riding it for the hell of it, as he stayed in the saddle the entire way, just powering up at a (for him) comfy pace. Of course he rode right through me. I ended in about 6:20.
Turned around and rode back down behind those guys, but they rode off at the bottom, and I turned and went back up, trying to go even easier this time. I thought I was doing OK but I must have really died near the top and it came to 6:30. I did a few circles for extra recovery time, then just after starting down I see a guy in a Bike Link kit flying up. It was Colman O (guy with white beard featured in the Ninigret break photo a few posts back). He is an animal. At the bottom I waited for him, and we chatted a bit. He said his best ever was around 4:30. I told him I thought Markie had reported a 3:40, and he was incredulous. I'm like dude, he was US Pro champion, don't you think he's a little faster than us?
Colman headed back up so I followed. Once again, I thought I was doing OK, sort of keeping pace on the less steep lower half. Once we got to the switchback he was pretty much gone. I plodded up at least 30 seconds down, ending at exactly six minutes, at least matching my earlier attempts from this year.
I've got Sturbridge and Palmer on deck this weekend. Never did Sturbridge before; I don't think it's a good race for me personally, but I'm having so much fun with our team this year I thought it best to go. Everyone is healthy and it's both more enjoyable and satisfying to work on a team effort and try to accomplish something. It helps that we're all great friends. KL will have an almost full squad from Terry there too, so that will be fun to watch. Thanks for reading.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Return of the Tuesday Night Titans
The 2007 Wompatuck season got under way this week. After the rainout on the scheduled opening night last week, I wasn't sure what to expect of the course. The good news is the park seems to have gone on a brush clearing rampage, and the bushes along the course have been cut way back. The course is wider and better for racing than I've seen it in years. Of course it will grow in as the season progresses, but right now it's great. This also lets more sunlight in, so things will be more likely to dry out when it rains. There is one spot right after the finish line where water was running out of the woods and across the road, but it wasn't too bad. The mosquitoes were already out though.
Around 50 riders seemed to be in attendance, not too shabby for the first week. We did 20 laps of the 1.3 mile circuit in just about an hour. It seemed easier than usual, never really went single file. I got in a few breaks to test the legs, even stayed out with three others for almost four laps near the end. My recovery is better than it's been in years. Things all came back together for the sprint lap, I just followed wheels, got bumped around by some clown who was fighting to the death to hold the wheels of a good rider who surged to the front, but I held my spot and got on the train when it wound up. I waited and waited, but it got up to 38 mph and when I finally broke clear with less than 100 meters to go, the 52x12 wasn't enough. First and second had at least five bike lengths on me, but I ended up on the losing end of a three way sprint for third, crossing in fifth. I'll take it.
Ge, you and all the others should make an effort to attend some week. It's a blast, and good training. Thanks for reading.
Around 50 riders seemed to be in attendance, not too shabby for the first week. We did 20 laps of the 1.3 mile circuit in just about an hour. It seemed easier than usual, never really went single file. I got in a few breaks to test the legs, even stayed out with three others for almost four laps near the end. My recovery is better than it's been in years. Things all came back together for the sprint lap, I just followed wheels, got bumped around by some clown who was fighting to the death to hold the wheels of a good rider who surged to the front, but I held my spot and got on the train when it wound up. I waited and waited, but it got up to 38 mph and when I finally broke clear with less than 100 meters to go, the 52x12 wasn't enough. First and second had at least five bike lengths on me, but I ended up on the losing end of a three way sprint for third, crossing in fifth. I'll take it.
Ge, you and all the others should make an effort to attend some week. It's a blast, and good training. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Weekend Racing Update - Part 2
The Turtle Pond Road Race was only half the story this weekend. Up next on Sunday morning came the Wrentham Duathlon. This event is put on by Fiske Independent Race Management, a local company that partners with Lions Clubs and other civic organizations to produce regional multisport events. FIRM, as it's known, has an annual Grand Prix Series, of which the Wrentham race is a part of. This forces the participation of all the triathletes interested in the series competition, who might otherwise skip a duathlon, or at least that was the grumbling and scuttlebutt I heard around the parking lot. Not that it mattered to me. The end result was a pretty strong looking field lined up for the start of the 3 mile run - 11 mile bike - 2 mile run event. There were about 300 individuals and 20 teams of two entered.
Luckily for me, the event is held in nearby Wrentham, MA, so I am a bit familiar with the area, as it lies within my extended training radius. With an 8:30 am start, the short trip over was much appreciated after a long day Saturday. The weather was perfect, a touch cool in the morning but quickly warming into the 70's. I wasn't sure what to wear, as I don't own any multisport specific clothing. In the past, I've experienced some pretty nasty ass rash from running in cycling shorts. All my new stuff have pretty hefty chamois in them, so I had to be cautious. I decided to go with the long-sleeve BOB skinsuit, but to protect against chamois diggage, I liberally coated the affected areas with BodyGlide, then took out extra insurance in the form of a pair of UnderArmour compression shorts. I BG'd all the seams on those too, as well as those in the skinsuit. For such a short event, this unconventional setup was comfortable enough, and post race I'm happy to report my perfect hairless ass is rash free. I'm sure you're glad I shared this.
Registration was pretty messed up, as they didn't have the "day of" applications on a separate table, they had them where the registar was. The woman working registration had lots of friends too, and spent most of her time chatting it up with them while the other latecomers filled out their applications at the head of the line. After about twenty agonizing minutes, the six people ahead of me got finished and I made it up with my downloaded and pre-filled form, picking up my chip and numbers.
My legs were pretty toasted from TP on Saturday, so I really wanted to run to warm up, especially since the run legs were so short. However, I'd just thrown my new Vision Tech aerobars onto the race bike in the morning, and so I needed to try them out. I kitted up and rode the first few miles of the course and back, and all seemed fine, so I took the bike to transition. At least there was plenty of room, and designated spots. There was some pretty serious hardware in there too. I just had my alloy Shimano DA 7701 wheels and clipons, and I racked my bike amongst the flotilla of carbonary before going off for the shortest of jogs. By now it was nearing race time, and everyone was lining up so I headed over. They then announced a short delay, so I got to run a few hundred meters with some of the others before shuffling back into the pack a few rows behind the front. This bunch looked serious, and with my lack of warmup I figured I would not be nearly as fast at some of them, and I was right.
The run course was very flat. The gun went off and I immediately suffered while trying to hold a decent pace. It felt really hard, yet tons of runners were surging ahead of me. I was dieing, and we weren't even a half mile into it. Then I remembered that some of these people were on teams, and I probably wasn't really forty people back, it just looked that way. There were some mileage notes painted on the road, but no signs, so it was hard to be sure of my pace. The announcer had stated confidently that the course was exactly three miles, but I've seen some pretty suspect distances at other FIRM events, so I remained unconvinced. During the middle of the leg, nobody passed me, but I didn't catch anyone either. In the last third of it, a few more surged past me. I did not feel too good. Heading into the chute and over the timing mat, 19:39 showed on the clock. OK, it wasn't that slow.
My bike was in one of the nearer racks. I ran right over and started looking... It wasn't there! I frantically ran to the end and checked the sign, yes 300-306. Where was it? FUCK! I'm searching back and forth, scanning the racks, nothing. After about what seemed like thirty seconds, but was probably less, I looked down in front of me and there it was. I couldn't have been any closer to it unless I was riding it. Dumbass. I've still got something to learn here. I sat down and pulled off my running shoes, and slipped into my two strap Carnac MTB shoes. I'd swapped out my Speedplays for the MTB ATACS so that I could use these shoes for the mandatory runs in and out of transition. We were on grass anyway, but this was still better. By now I had sweat running in my eyes from my panic, so I took a few more seconds to pull off (huh-huh) my glasses and towel my face before trotting out.
Once on the bike, I now had to be behind at least fifty people, maybe more. At least I felt great. I quickly got in a rhythm and started flying past people one by one. Having ridden the first few miles of the bike course, I knew what to expect here. Once onto the uncharted part of the course, there were a few rollers, but I just geared down for them and kept blowing by people. I had a 12-27 on, so a 52x24 was at my disposal should I need it, with no thoughts of ever needing the small ring. There was, however, a pretty decent little climb at about the four mile mark. This had me off the saddle for twenty seconds or so. It was about a half of the Turtle Pond climb. Once over the top, there were still riders everywhere, and we were on the long descent they'd warned us about. Well, it was residential, and two cars squeezed out of a side street in front of us, only to quickly get stuck behind more riders ahead who were spread across the road.
It was a pedal downhill, and I soon caught the cars, and with a right hander coming up at the bottom of the descent, I was worried about what they might do.
Luckily, I and another were able to blow past the cars on the left just before the turn, and scoot through the intersection in a nice arc without losing too much momentum. Now we were out on a wider, flatter road that I recognized from training. There were a few rollers on it. By now I'd worked my way up into the front 25 or so riders, and they were more spread out and moving faster. Yes, it's enjoyable blowing past people on full aero rigs when you're just riding your road bike with clipons. No, nobody passed me. I continually ate up riders all the way to Norfolk center. There was one more little rise that had me off the saddle, but most of this was 52x15 and 14 stuff. After Norfolk there was another descent and I was in the 12. The riders were now very spaced apart. Checking my watch, I saw about 40 minutes had passed since the start. Having flashbacks to the run leg #2 suffering at the Eliot Duathlon back in the fall, I planned to cool it on the bike for the last five minutes or so of the ride. I passed the two lead women, one of whom was pushing the limits of the drafting rule, following the leader only about four bike lengths back. A short distance later I started to ease up, as we were now back on the run course and only a mile or so from transition. I heard some shifting back there and noticed I had a female in tow... There was one guy 50 meters or so ahead of me, but he was going well and I was going to just hold my spot into transition, but he started to slow too, then Miss Sortofdrafting comes sprinting by. After all, the two women were in a fight for the win, so they weren't just messing around like me. But, I didn't want a crowd in front of me to spoil my quest for style points with a cyclocross dismount, so I put on a big Cipo sprint around all three of them before doing my best Roy Rogers one legged side saddle flying leap off the bike and across the mat.
This time I tried to remember to time my transition, as the official timers would not break them out (T1 is included in the bike split, and T2 in the run 2 split). Things went a little better this time. I clicked my watch as soon as I got to my rack, then again when I left the fenced area, and it was 47 seconds. Out on the run, the two women had beaten me out, along with another, who I think was part of a team. There was also a big guy, who ended up winning the Clydesdales.
I tried to keep pace with these people, but they were out of my league. The women just pulled away. After about a mile, another trio passed me, and one of them looked to be 45+ for sure, maybe older. Despite his bizarre stride, no doubt brought on by years of endurosport torture and injury (you know the type, it was painful to watch), I had no response to his passing and he pulled away. Turned out to be second place in my age group, and first wasn't far ahead of him either. I think this guy knew the leader was just ahead, and was putting on a chase. I just hung on for dear life and crossed the line with a run split of 14:07 (including T2) and an overall of 1:03:10, 24th individual, holding off 4th and 5th in my age group by just 10 and 20 seconds respectively.
Later I was happy to learn my bike split was best in my group, and 7th overall, with the six who bettered me coincidentally taking the first six positions in the overall. Considering my equipment deficit, the over-cooling it in the end, and the hard race in my legs from Saturday, I think I've got that part pretty well covered. If I can find 20 seconds/mile in my runs, I might have a shot at my age group in one of these things. There are still at least three more on deck this spring, although the next one also has a hard bike race the day before. That's the scoop, no time for proofing, just clicking publish, thanks for reading.
Luckily for me, the event is held in nearby Wrentham, MA, so I am a bit familiar with the area, as it lies within my extended training radius. With an 8:30 am start, the short trip over was much appreciated after a long day Saturday. The weather was perfect, a touch cool in the morning but quickly warming into the 70's. I wasn't sure what to wear, as I don't own any multisport specific clothing. In the past, I've experienced some pretty nasty ass rash from running in cycling shorts. All my new stuff have pretty hefty chamois in them, so I had to be cautious. I decided to go with the long-sleeve BOB skinsuit, but to protect against chamois diggage, I liberally coated the affected areas with BodyGlide, then took out extra insurance in the form of a pair of UnderArmour compression shorts. I BG'd all the seams on those too, as well as those in the skinsuit. For such a short event, this unconventional setup was comfortable enough, and post race I'm happy to report my perfect hairless ass is rash free. I'm sure you're glad I shared this.
Registration was pretty messed up, as they didn't have the "day of" applications on a separate table, they had them where the registar was. The woman working registration had lots of friends too, and spent most of her time chatting it up with them while the other latecomers filled out their applications at the head of the line. After about twenty agonizing minutes, the six people ahead of me got finished and I made it up with my downloaded and pre-filled form, picking up my chip and numbers.
My legs were pretty toasted from TP on Saturday, so I really wanted to run to warm up, especially since the run legs were so short. However, I'd just thrown my new Vision Tech aerobars onto the race bike in the morning, and so I needed to try them out. I kitted up and rode the first few miles of the course and back, and all seemed fine, so I took the bike to transition. At least there was plenty of room, and designated spots. There was some pretty serious hardware in there too. I just had my alloy Shimano DA 7701 wheels and clipons, and I racked my bike amongst the flotilla of carbonary before going off for the shortest of jogs. By now it was nearing race time, and everyone was lining up so I headed over. They then announced a short delay, so I got to run a few hundred meters with some of the others before shuffling back into the pack a few rows behind the front. This bunch looked serious, and with my lack of warmup I figured I would not be nearly as fast at some of them, and I was right.
The run course was very flat. The gun went off and I immediately suffered while trying to hold a decent pace. It felt really hard, yet tons of runners were surging ahead of me. I was dieing, and we weren't even a half mile into it. Then I remembered that some of these people were on teams, and I probably wasn't really forty people back, it just looked that way. There were some mileage notes painted on the road, but no signs, so it was hard to be sure of my pace. The announcer had stated confidently that the course was exactly three miles, but I've seen some pretty suspect distances at other FIRM events, so I remained unconvinced. During the middle of the leg, nobody passed me, but I didn't catch anyone either. In the last third of it, a few more surged past me. I did not feel too good. Heading into the chute and over the timing mat, 19:39 showed on the clock. OK, it wasn't that slow.
My bike was in one of the nearer racks. I ran right over and started looking... It wasn't there! I frantically ran to the end and checked the sign, yes 300-306. Where was it? FUCK! I'm searching back and forth, scanning the racks, nothing. After about what seemed like thirty seconds, but was probably less, I looked down in front of me and there it was. I couldn't have been any closer to it unless I was riding it. Dumbass. I've still got something to learn here. I sat down and pulled off my running shoes, and slipped into my two strap Carnac MTB shoes. I'd swapped out my Speedplays for the MTB ATACS so that I could use these shoes for the mandatory runs in and out of transition. We were on grass anyway, but this was still better. By now I had sweat running in my eyes from my panic, so I took a few more seconds to pull off (huh-huh) my glasses and towel my face before trotting out.
Once on the bike, I now had to be behind at least fifty people, maybe more. At least I felt great. I quickly got in a rhythm and started flying past people one by one. Having ridden the first few miles of the bike course, I knew what to expect here. Once onto the uncharted part of the course, there were a few rollers, but I just geared down for them and kept blowing by people. I had a 12-27 on, so a 52x24 was at my disposal should I need it, with no thoughts of ever needing the small ring. There was, however, a pretty decent little climb at about the four mile mark. This had me off the saddle for twenty seconds or so. It was about a half of the Turtle Pond climb. Once over the top, there were still riders everywhere, and we were on the long descent they'd warned us about. Well, it was residential, and two cars squeezed out of a side street in front of us, only to quickly get stuck behind more riders ahead who were spread across the road.
It was a pedal downhill, and I soon caught the cars, and with a right hander coming up at the bottom of the descent, I was worried about what they might do.
Luckily, I and another were able to blow past the cars on the left just before the turn, and scoot through the intersection in a nice arc without losing too much momentum. Now we were out on a wider, flatter road that I recognized from training. There were a few rollers on it. By now I'd worked my way up into the front 25 or so riders, and they were more spread out and moving faster. Yes, it's enjoyable blowing past people on full aero rigs when you're just riding your road bike with clipons. No, nobody passed me. I continually ate up riders all the way to Norfolk center. There was one more little rise that had me off the saddle, but most of this was 52x15 and 14 stuff. After Norfolk there was another descent and I was in the 12. The riders were now very spaced apart. Checking my watch, I saw about 40 minutes had passed since the start. Having flashbacks to the run leg #2 suffering at the Eliot Duathlon back in the fall, I planned to cool it on the bike for the last five minutes or so of the ride. I passed the two lead women, one of whom was pushing the limits of the drafting rule, following the leader only about four bike lengths back. A short distance later I started to ease up, as we were now back on the run course and only a mile or so from transition. I heard some shifting back there and noticed I had a female in tow... There was one guy 50 meters or so ahead of me, but he was going well and I was going to just hold my spot into transition, but he started to slow too, then Miss Sortofdrafting comes sprinting by. After all, the two women were in a fight for the win, so they weren't just messing around like me. But, I didn't want a crowd in front of me to spoil my quest for style points with a cyclocross dismount, so I put on a big Cipo sprint around all three of them before doing my best Roy Rogers one legged side saddle flying leap off the bike and across the mat.
This time I tried to remember to time my transition, as the official timers would not break them out (T1 is included in the bike split, and T2 in the run 2 split). Things went a little better this time. I clicked my watch as soon as I got to my rack, then again when I left the fenced area, and it was 47 seconds. Out on the run, the two women had beaten me out, along with another, who I think was part of a team. There was also a big guy, who ended up winning the Clydesdales.
I tried to keep pace with these people, but they were out of my league. The women just pulled away. After about a mile, another trio passed me, and one of them looked to be 45+ for sure, maybe older. Despite his bizarre stride, no doubt brought on by years of endurosport torture and injury (you know the type, it was painful to watch), I had no response to his passing and he pulled away. Turned out to be second place in my age group, and first wasn't far ahead of him either. I think this guy knew the leader was just ahead, and was putting on a chase. I just hung on for dear life and crossed the line with a run split of 14:07 (including T2) and an overall of 1:03:10, 24th individual, holding off 4th and 5th in my age group by just 10 and 20 seconds respectively.
Later I was happy to learn my bike split was best in my group, and 7th overall, with the six who bettered me coincidentally taking the first six positions in the overall. Considering my equipment deficit, the over-cooling it in the end, and the hard race in my legs from Saturday, I think I've got that part pretty well covered. If I can find 20 seconds/mile in my runs, I might have a shot at my age group in one of these things. There are still at least three more on deck this spring, although the next one also has a hard bike race the day before. That's the scoop, no time for proofing, just clicking publish, thanks for reading.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Weekend Racing Update
As promised, here are a couple of those race reportsGewilli loves so much. Ge can write a book about an 11 mile ride to work, so for the half dozen or so times a years he actually leaves the house on the weekend to compete, well, we're treated to days of buildup followed by days of recounting the event in minute detail. Those of us who don't have so much going on outside of cycling (or are just more dedicated...), can't practice quite that much literary indulgence, but for your Tuesday morning pleasures, here goes.
The Turtle Pond has been around for four or five years, not sure, but this was at least three years in a row for me. The course is an 11.4 mile loop in Loudon (yes Nascar fans, that Loudon) and East Concord, New Hamster. The finish sits just past the crest of a short hill. The hill is not a monster by any means, but it's big enough to keep most pure sprinters out of the money. Taking less than two minutes to climb, during the race the small chainring was deployed by most, but if you're serious in the sprint, you'd probably need to big ring it. The rest of the course is rolling NH roads, a few farms, no huge descents, but a mix of fast and slow sections. This year we started in a new spot at the base of the climb, so instead of 4.5 laps like in years past, we'd be racing about 5.2 laps. The Masters 45+ field had only 66 riders onboard for the start, as some of the usual suspects opted out of the 9 am start time and instead raced down in the 35+ race which went in the afternoon wave.
Team BOB had me, Duano, the Cronoman, Tim-mee!, Wayne, and Thom. Did I miss anyone? Portland Velo had a contingent, Rano and Jennings were there for Gearworks, and CCB had a full squad. There were lots of individuals and pairs too. The rollout up the hill was civilized. A small break soon went up the road, and on the long gradual downhill that leads back to the climb, Wayne went to the front to inspire the lethargic field. Shortly afterwards, I did the same, and ended up pacing the group into the tight right hander onto Oak Hill Road. The break was in sight ahead, and the field exploded up the climb. My not so well timed pull had left me a bit under pressure, and going up the climb that lap sucked pretty bad. Non-climber Duano pulled alongside nearer the top, so I knew I was close enough to the back of what was left of the group. Duane was sucking in low flying birds with his labored breathing, but his efforts inspired me to suck it up and crest with the pack. Things quickly recompacted, but it was about three miles before the last chase group that would make it back on swarmed us from behind.
The next few laps I decided not to repeat my mistake. A break went, but me and the Cronoman just decided to wait and see what happened rather than toast ourselves chasing. No point in bringing anything back unless we were going to have enough left to sprint on the hill at the end. I was counting down the laps, and in a fit of stupidity I calculated we would only be climbing the hill five times. After the fourth time up, they didn't ring the bell and after a quick conference with the Cronoman, I realized duh, since the lap starts at the top of the hill, five laps means we had to do the hill six times, since the start was at the bottom. I thought Duano was going to kill me, as he had been relying on my bogus info/encouragement each time he suffered on the climb.
At least it was grouppo compacto at this point, and we passed KL as she ran a lap of the course. I was feeling fine on the hill now, but early signs of cramping were starting to show up whenever I got off (huh-huh) the saddle . With one to go the field split after the climb, with only the Cronoman making the front group of about 15 riders. They had five seconds or so, and we flew down the farm road, but too many were sitting on and it all came back together. On the rolling road that makes up the far side of the triangle, Jennings again rolled off, and apparently strongman, killer climber, devoted solobreak reader and all around good guy Doug Jansen (Northeast Cycling) bridged up to him. Game over. Jennings later said Doug just rode him into the ground and went on the win by a comfortable margin. If we can't win, there's nobody else who deserves it more, so congratulations Doug! Any of you who think you have to be ectomorphic to be a great climber, well come and meet Doug sometime.
These guys had around a minute gap at the end. Back in the field, I took a position near the front on the long descent. There were lots of others interested in keeping the pace high, but about 300 meters from the final turn, they all sat up and I found myself on the point. Fuck. Going into the tight, sandy, 90 degree bend, the cops and marshall were waving their arms frantically. A guy in a pickup didn't accept the wave through the intersection and had stopped in the middle of the road right around the corner. Perfect for a group of racers who'd been coming out wide, curb to curb every lap (actually, this was the sticks, and there are no curbs). Now I was glad to be in the front. I went by no problem, but knew there would be a lot of people who had to brake and get all messed up. I thought for a second about launching right there, but it was too soon. The small rise after the turn leads to a descent of about a quarter mile before flattening and then rolling up into the climb. The climb has two stages, with a flatter spot in the middle. Like I noted earlier, it takes less than two minutes to climb, so in total it can't be much more than a half mile.
I just coasted down the hill. If I'm going to be stuck on the front, at least I can conserve. As the hill started, Jim Nash (CCB) came by to lead it out, with two Keltic riders on his wheel. I slotted in behind them, but Nash pulled off not long after the climbing began in earnest. Once again at the front, I waited to pounce on whoever came by. Kevin Hines (Bike Link) came up on my left, and others started swarming around. My legs were cramping and I knew I'd have to do this in the little ring (which is a 36 on this bike). I tried my best to follow wheels and hold position, but halfway up the Cronoman launched past with a decisive burst of speed, immediately getting a few lengths. Rano and Hines pounced after him, and I just continued to fight to hang on. Another half dozen slid by me, and at the crest I popped it in the big ring for one last surge, but it's only about 75 meters of flat before the line and all I could do was hold my spot.
The Cronoman got pipped by Rano and Hines, but he held off everyone else and got fifth overall, super for him on a hill finish. Way to go Cronoman. I ended up 13th of the 52 finishers. I was totally spent. Me and the Cronoman rode another lap at a snail's pace for a cooldown, so we ended up just shy of 70 miles on the day, all in about 3:20. The cooldown lap was good for me, because I was set to race the Wrentham Duathlon Sunday. But that's another story. Maybe this afternoon. Thanks for reading, time for work.
The Turtle Pond has been around for four or five years, not sure, but this was at least three years in a row for me. The course is an 11.4 mile loop in Loudon (yes Nascar fans, that Loudon) and East Concord, New Hamster. The finish sits just past the crest of a short hill. The hill is not a monster by any means, but it's big enough to keep most pure sprinters out of the money. Taking less than two minutes to climb, during the race the small chainring was deployed by most, but if you're serious in the sprint, you'd probably need to big ring it. The rest of the course is rolling NH roads, a few farms, no huge descents, but a mix of fast and slow sections. This year we started in a new spot at the base of the climb, so instead of 4.5 laps like in years past, we'd be racing about 5.2 laps. The Masters 45+ field had only 66 riders onboard for the start, as some of the usual suspects opted out of the 9 am start time and instead raced down in the 35+ race which went in the afternoon wave.
Team BOB had me, Duano, the Cronoman, Tim-mee!, Wayne, and Thom. Did I miss anyone? Portland Velo had a contingent, Rano and Jennings were there for Gearworks, and CCB had a full squad. There were lots of individuals and pairs too. The rollout up the hill was civilized. A small break soon went up the road, and on the long gradual downhill that leads back to the climb, Wayne went to the front to inspire the lethargic field. Shortly afterwards, I did the same, and ended up pacing the group into the tight right hander onto Oak Hill Road. The break was in sight ahead, and the field exploded up the climb. My not so well timed pull had left me a bit under pressure, and going up the climb that lap sucked pretty bad. Non-climber Duano pulled alongside nearer the top, so I knew I was close enough to the back of what was left of the group. Duane was sucking in low flying birds with his labored breathing, but his efforts inspired me to suck it up and crest with the pack. Things quickly recompacted, but it was about three miles before the last chase group that would make it back on swarmed us from behind.
The next few laps I decided not to repeat my mistake. A break went, but me and the Cronoman just decided to wait and see what happened rather than toast ourselves chasing. No point in bringing anything back unless we were going to have enough left to sprint on the hill at the end. I was counting down the laps, and in a fit of stupidity I calculated we would only be climbing the hill five times. After the fourth time up, they didn't ring the bell and after a quick conference with the Cronoman, I realized duh, since the lap starts at the top of the hill, five laps means we had to do the hill six times, since the start was at the bottom. I thought Duano was going to kill me, as he had been relying on my bogus info/encouragement each time he suffered on the climb.
At least it was grouppo compacto at this point, and we passed KL as she ran a lap of the course. I was feeling fine on the hill now, but early signs of cramping were starting to show up whenever I got off (huh-huh) the saddle . With one to go the field split after the climb, with only the Cronoman making the front group of about 15 riders. They had five seconds or so, and we flew down the farm road, but too many were sitting on and it all came back together. On the rolling road that makes up the far side of the triangle, Jennings again rolled off, and apparently strongman, killer climber, devoted solobreak reader and all around good guy Doug Jansen (Northeast Cycling) bridged up to him. Game over. Jennings later said Doug just rode him into the ground and went on the win by a comfortable margin. If we can't win, there's nobody else who deserves it more, so congratulations Doug! Any of you who think you have to be ectomorphic to be a great climber, well come and meet Doug sometime.
These guys had around a minute gap at the end. Back in the field, I took a position near the front on the long descent. There were lots of others interested in keeping the pace high, but about 300 meters from the final turn, they all sat up and I found myself on the point. Fuck. Going into the tight, sandy, 90 degree bend, the cops and marshall were waving their arms frantically. A guy in a pickup didn't accept the wave through the intersection and had stopped in the middle of the road right around the corner. Perfect for a group of racers who'd been coming out wide, curb to curb every lap (actually, this was the sticks, and there are no curbs). Now I was glad to be in the front. I went by no problem, but knew there would be a lot of people who had to brake and get all messed up. I thought for a second about launching right there, but it was too soon. The small rise after the turn leads to a descent of about a quarter mile before flattening and then rolling up into the climb. The climb has two stages, with a flatter spot in the middle. Like I noted earlier, it takes less than two minutes to climb, so in total it can't be much more than a half mile.
I just coasted down the hill. If I'm going to be stuck on the front, at least I can conserve. As the hill started, Jim Nash (CCB) came by to lead it out, with two Keltic riders on his wheel. I slotted in behind them, but Nash pulled off not long after the climbing began in earnest. Once again at the front, I waited to pounce on whoever came by. Kevin Hines (Bike Link) came up on my left, and others started swarming around. My legs were cramping and I knew I'd have to do this in the little ring (which is a 36 on this bike). I tried my best to follow wheels and hold position, but halfway up the Cronoman launched past with a decisive burst of speed, immediately getting a few lengths. Rano and Hines pounced after him, and I just continued to fight to hang on. Another half dozen slid by me, and at the crest I popped it in the big ring for one last surge, but it's only about 75 meters of flat before the line and all I could do was hold my spot.
The Cronoman got pipped by Rano and Hines, but he held off everyone else and got fifth overall, super for him on a hill finish. Way to go Cronoman. I ended up 13th of the 52 finishers. I was totally spent. Me and the Cronoman rode another lap at a snail's pace for a cooldown, so we ended up just shy of 70 miles on the day, all in about 3:20. The cooldown lap was good for me, because I was set to race the Wrentham Duathlon Sunday. But that's another story. Maybe this afternoon. Thanks for reading, time for work.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Beast of Burden
So much to write about today; where to start? Two races over the weekend, Turtle Pond road race on Saturday and the Wrentham duathlon Sunday, but since official results aren't just went up for either, I'll wait for those. The executive summary is that both went pretty well. Then we have the theft/disappearance of CTodd's super-duper video camera at the Tour de Georgia. That totally sucks. Thieves suck. Remember that next time you're buying something that's a "great deal" off of Ebay. Would someone really buy a $4000 bike just to sell it for $2500 a month later? Beware, and don't support thieves. I've got tons of raw footage, so maybe CTodd will wrestle KL for the job of Nodcast producer/editor. There's plenty of humor there to go around.
Then we have, in case you didn't notice, the awesome turnabout in the New England weather. Saturday at TP we raced in shorts and short sleeves even though there were still five foot snowbanks around the parking lot. Also news from this weekend, multisport man about town Bolder made his bike racing debut at the Haystack TT out in CO. Can his first crit be far off?
All this news pales in comparison to today's big story though, holy-Gewilliesque, I rode my bike to work! I'm not a big fan of riding with a messenger bag stuffed full of crap, but with the weather being beyond nice, I couldn't pass up the chance to ride. I went easy, mostly 41x19 in low zone one, and took the "long way," avoiding Rt 138 as long as possible. The first half of the ride is great, then it starts to get industrial disease as I near the cube farm. Reebok and Dunkin Donuts have recently built new world headquarters across the way on Royal Street, so there are about 3000 cars turning left off the interchange at 8:30 am. The state totally reconstructed the thing to facilitate this, making it three and four lanes where there used to be two, which of course meant eliminating the shoulder. Not too worry, it is now gridlocked back onto the highway anyhow, so I just roll through and squeeze by, avoiding as much of the melee as possible. Now I get to ride home too, and Wompatuck should have great weather tommorow. Summertime and the livin's easy... Thanks for reading.
Then we have, in case you didn't notice, the awesome turnabout in the New England weather. Saturday at TP we raced in shorts and short sleeves even though there were still five foot snowbanks around the parking lot. Also news from this weekend, multisport man about town Bolder made his bike racing debut at the Haystack TT out in CO. Can his first crit be far off?
All this news pales in comparison to today's big story though, holy-Gewilliesque, I rode my bike to work! I'm not a big fan of riding with a messenger bag stuffed full of crap, but with the weather being beyond nice, I couldn't pass up the chance to ride. I went easy, mostly 41x19 in low zone one, and took the "long way," avoiding Rt 138 as long as possible. The first half of the ride is great, then it starts to get industrial disease as I near the cube farm. Reebok and Dunkin Donuts have recently built new world headquarters across the way on Royal Street, so there are about 3000 cars turning left off the interchange at 8:30 am. The state totally reconstructed the thing to facilitate this, making it three and four lanes where there used to be two, which of course meant eliminating the shoulder. Not too worry, it is now gridlocked back onto the highway anyhow, so I just roll through and squeeze by, avoiding as much of the melee as possible. Now I get to ride home too, and Wompatuck should have great weather tommorow. Summertime and the livin's easy... Thanks for reading.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Bike Racer Haircut
Once in a while we read stuff about personal hygiene and bike racing, usually shit about shaving your legs or keeping your crotch boil free. That's all well and good, but if you want to be a real bike racer, the hair on your head has to go too. That's just the way it is. Tinker Juarez and Laurent Fignon? Please.
As a PSA, here is a picture of a famous and successful bike racer with a proper haircut:
Yeah, I know, maybe Stuey is going bald too, but you get the idea. Now, here is what you want to avoid:
Thanks for reading mofos!
As a PSA, here is a picture of a famous and successful bike racer with a proper haircut:
Yeah, I know, maybe Stuey is going bald too, but you get the idea. Now, here is what you want to avoid:
Thanks for reading mofos!
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
A hill is a hill.
Rather than bitch about the constant rain (it's April you know, this is normal), last night I took the opportunity to strap on (huh-huh), the running shoes and go out after work to test the feet. I'd taken a week off, in fact only running five times in the past month. My bike got nicely cleaned after Sunday's NH sandfest, but I don't think it's had a chance to dry out yet, and it wasn't lubed either. Tuesday morning the forecast was dismal enough that I didn't even bother to pack the bike for Wompatuck. Sure enough, the race was called off. Hard rain keeps the fields away, and the backstretch may be under water.
Around quitting time at the cube farm, the weather was pretty dismal, but only light rain was falling. I ran right from work. I did not have GPS, HRM, or WTF, or anything else other than my watch, so this would be by feel. It's only about a mile to get to Houghton's Pond, and there I turned into the woods, but was quickly met by a flooded section of the road where a spillway had been overwhelmed by the rising swamp. Treading the concrete bulkhead of the spillway like an ironworker, I managed dry passage without falling into the pond. I hit the hill on the paved loop in the woods and felt pretty good. Down the other side, I was nearly trampled by two startled whitetails (no, not that kind Heywood).
Crossing into the other side of the reservation near the State Police stable, I still felt good going up the long grind on the fire road. Most of the trail was puddled, but the woods seem to be soaking up the deluge quite well. Only a few mushy steps needed to be taken near the end of the fire road. This led me out to the famed Big Blue access road. The trailhead intersects the road at about the one minute point of a trip up by bike. I wanted to compare my running time with my recent cycling attempts, but I wasn't about to run to the bottom. I hit the split button and proceeded up.
My lungs felt good, even if my legs are a bit cobwebbed from not running. Not having HR data, I pushed but not too hard, as I didn't want to blow on the steeps near the top. At the summit I clicked the split again and later found only 7:12 had passed. Since my recent bike times have been an unimpressive six minutes, subtracting the one minute for the skipped section means it took me 7:12 to run something that has been taking me around five minutes to do on the bike. Wow. Just goes to show you what 22 pounds of bike does to you on a climb like this.
Running down sucked. It was getting dark and I headed back through the woods. My intensity wained near the end, but I ended up out there for 1:12 total, easily my longest run since the half marathon. This felt like a real workout. Driving home I was cooked and starving. Excellent. It may not have been Wompatuck, but it was pretty good for a work day. Thanks for reading.
Around quitting time at the cube farm, the weather was pretty dismal, but only light rain was falling. I ran right from work. I did not have GPS, HRM, or WTF, or anything else other than my watch, so this would be by feel. It's only about a mile to get to Houghton's Pond, and there I turned into the woods, but was quickly met by a flooded section of the road where a spillway had been overwhelmed by the rising swamp. Treading the concrete bulkhead of the spillway like an ironworker, I managed dry passage without falling into the pond. I hit the hill on the paved loop in the woods and felt pretty good. Down the other side, I was nearly trampled by two startled whitetails (no, not that kind Heywood).
Crossing into the other side of the reservation near the State Police stable, I still felt good going up the long grind on the fire road. Most of the trail was puddled, but the woods seem to be soaking up the deluge quite well. Only a few mushy steps needed to be taken near the end of the fire road. This led me out to the famed Big Blue access road. The trailhead intersects the road at about the one minute point of a trip up by bike. I wanted to compare my running time with my recent cycling attempts, but I wasn't about to run to the bottom. I hit the split button and proceeded up.
My lungs felt good, even if my legs are a bit cobwebbed from not running. Not having HR data, I pushed but not too hard, as I didn't want to blow on the steeps near the top. At the summit I clicked the split again and later found only 7:12 had passed. Since my recent bike times have been an unimpressive six minutes, subtracting the one minute for the skipped section means it took me 7:12 to run something that has been taking me around five minutes to do on the bike. Wow. Just goes to show you what 22 pounds of bike does to you on a climb like this.
Running down sucked. It was getting dark and I headed back through the woods. My intensity wained near the end, but I ended up out there for 1:12 total, easily my longest run since the half marathon. This felt like a real workout. Driving home I was cooked and starving. Excellent. It may not have been Wompatuck, but it was pretty good for a work day. Thanks for reading.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Best Nodcast Ever!
Coming soon! No, not really. In fact, KL said this one was so bad that she wouldn't even let me load it into her IMovie. Don't despair, I'll get it done somehow. Even though my former efforts have been dissed by all, with Meg slamming my content, and fluffmeister CTodd denying it exists at all, true fans know the value of the minimalist production.
In this one you'll hear some sketchy details of the race depicted above. Special thanks to the Cycling Automaton whose blog the photo was lifted from without permission. Here the Cronoman and I pound the Ninigret tarmac, having infiltrated the winning eight rider break in the 45+ race. The Cronoman came up big in the sprint, taking fourth (OK, medium big) and I got eighth out of the eight, oh well. My sprint is pathetic. There's another pic that is bound to surface sometime where me and one of the others escaped ahead of the break and I managed to reel in a $20 prime, so the day was better than break even.
I stuck around for just a few minutes to shoot a quick video of the cat 3 race, where some of the same suspects from the 45+ race took on the likes of the Automaton. BOB class act Jimmy O'Mara took the field sprint for third behind a long-gone breakaway by junior phenom Gavin Mannion and another guy. You can find the 6MB video here.
Lots of rain for the marathon today. If they had a bike leg it might be like a triathlon. I've never attended the marathon. The closest I came was working in Newton one year and seeing a few stragglers running over the bridge as I passed under Route 16 while driving by on 128. Wet week, but we managed to get in a decent ride yesterday morning before the snow hit. You'll have to wait for the nodcast, and of course we all can't wait to hear about Ge and Geo's excellent adventure to Battenkill. Nice to see Stuie win at Paris-Roubaix too. Thanks for reading.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Quiet week
Not much going on. Rode the trainer a few times, and rode around Blue Hills on Wednesday night. Even did the access road in 6:01. Used the 41x24 again, but went "easy" on the bottom half and tried to stay seated. My split at the switchback was around 3:20, same as last time, so I must have knocked off the twenty seconds on the top part. As I was riding up, I saw three guys coming down, one at a time. The first guy had a familiar kit, but I can't place it. Then there was a guy with maple leafs or something and a brand new red Specialized. The third guy was a younger, skinny BRC rider. He looked familiar.
I rode around in circles at the top for a minute or two before putting on my jacket and descending. Maple leaf guy was coming back up, hammering, but looking pretty good. Further down the BRC guy was coming up again. He was going well too, but looked very relaxed. He gave me the nod like he knew me, so maybe he was a Wompatuck guy. No repeats for me, not with the 41. Maybe next week. This was supposed to be a rest week. I got a massage Tuesday, and the prognosis was my calf is tight and probably causing the foot pain, but I stayed away from running this week anyway. I want to give it some more rest. I don't have any more important running goals for this spring, just a few duathlons.
I sent an email to the promoter of the upcoming Blue Hills race. He verified that the course is indeed going to run counter-clockwise. That seems weird. I guess you'd need a marshal to stop traffic from both directions at each intersection anyway, at least for the pack, but if there is anyone off the front or back, going clockwise allows them to pass without any marshalling help. More importantly though, the way they are running it will make the descent side on the narrow road which is now heavily developed with houses and driveways. The climb will be out on Unquity Road, which is basically a parkway with no development on it. I'm not so sure I want to participate in this one. The other direction would be a better race, and WAY safer. I guess we'll see.
Good luck to Gewilli and maybe Feltslave who are slated to compete at Battenkill Roubaix tomorrow. I'm still on the fence as to whether or not to go back to Ninigret for another race, make a nodcast, or both? Thanks for reading!
I rode around in circles at the top for a minute or two before putting on my jacket and descending. Maple leaf guy was coming back up, hammering, but looking pretty good. Further down the BRC guy was coming up again. He was going well too, but looked very relaxed. He gave me the nod like he knew me, so maybe he was a Wompatuck guy. No repeats for me, not with the 41. Maybe next week. This was supposed to be a rest week. I got a massage Tuesday, and the prognosis was my calf is tight and probably causing the foot pain, but I stayed away from running this week anyway. I want to give it some more rest. I don't have any more important running goals for this spring, just a few duathlons.
I sent an email to the promoter of the upcoming Blue Hills race. He verified that the course is indeed going to run counter-clockwise. That seems weird. I guess you'd need a marshal to stop traffic from both directions at each intersection anyway, at least for the pack, but if there is anyone off the front or back, going clockwise allows them to pass without any marshalling help. More importantly though, the way they are running it will make the descent side on the narrow road which is now heavily developed with houses and driveways. The climb will be out on Unquity Road, which is basically a parkway with no development on it. I'm not so sure I want to participate in this one. The other direction would be a better race, and WAY safer. I guess we'll see.
Good luck to Gewilli and maybe Feltslave who are slated to compete at Battenkill Roubaix tomorrow. I'm still on the fence as to whether or not to go back to Ninigret for another race, make a nodcast, or both? Thanks for reading!
Monday, April 9, 2007
PFC
"Pretty cold," just in case you're wondering. Unseasonably chilly temperatures and nasty winds pushed us out of the comfort zone this weekend, but I shouldn't be such a baby about it, as at least we stayed dry. Saturday morning brought the first of this year's several scheduled pilgrimages to Ninigret Park for the Chris Hinds Memorial Criterium. Prior to Saturday, my plans didn't include this race for certain. Considering my rock-bottom mileage this season, I've felt surprisingly good on the few occasions I've been outside on the bike. However, having not even been on a group ride at all, I haven't had to break out of the comfort zone to follow a wheel or do anything else I might not feel like doing at a particular instant in time. With Turtle Pond just two weeks away, a few race miles to test the legs and lungs became mandatory. Wompatuck is slated to begin a week from tomorrow, but there's always a chance of a rainout. Therefore, Saturday morning, after tidying up the homefront, making myself late in the process, down to Rhode Island I drove, arriving at registration a mere thirty minutes before the scheduled start of the 45+ race.
Not only would this be my first race in the new BOB-Stonyfield Farm-Shift-Ariza-Goodales colors, but also my first race ever with a long sleeve skinsuit! That's right, I've never had one before, and just a few years ago my girth was such that wearing even my shortsleeve versions in public was forbidden by many local ordinances. We must protect the children... The Automaton captured a few images at this event, but none of me, so you'll have to wait to see my svelte new physique inside this lycra masterpiece.
Those warming up around me appeared all bundled and layered, but I went with just a longsleeve base layer, the skinsuit, knee warmers and lycra booties. Emerging from the car, the Cronoman, on his way to visit the bushes, "swung by" and informed me the 1-2-3 race currently had one lap to go. We were up next, but it was only 12:30 and they can't start early, so I had fifteen minutes to warm up. This was also my first ride of the year on the race bike, so I took a few laps and got used to the light touch brakes and shifters, making sure everything was working OK. I arrived on the starting line just as the official gave us the thirty seconds to go call.
At registration I was 69th on the list, woo-hoo, bonus. There looked to be about that many in the race, but only 50 finishers were listed, so there might have been a few no shows. I can't believe that many could have been dropped. The Ninigret course is layed out on an abandoned military airfield, right on the beach. Think windy, all the time. The direction may change, but the wind is ever present. The serpentine course layout has either seven or nine turns, depending on what you decide to count. Saturday the headwind gale blew right in the face of the pack along the more-twisty "backstretch." Along the front straightaway where the sprint line lies, we had a straight tailwind.
As stated earlier, I came into this with no idea of where my fitness was. My training over the winter and spring included lots of running, with three races thrown in, but sparse bike mileage, none of it really hard. Combined with a minimal warmup, this should have been a recipe for disaster. It wasn't. Even though the 45+ field including several former and current national champions, I was quickly reminded on the first lap that my peers are a bunch of old men. The wind held back the lead riders and sitting in was cake. It actually took me two or three laps to figure out how far ahead of time I had to start coasting in order to time the accordian effect correctly in and out of the many tight turns. From my vantage point near the tail of the group, I could see all kinds of attacks and action up front, but nothing was going anywhere before dying in the wind. The accelerations barely filtered their way all the way to the end of the line before they'd peter out and bunch back up.
The first half of the race my average HR was 148. That is zone 3, an unheard of low in a criterium. Was this that slow, or was I that fit? Team BOB-Shift had a large contingent in this race. Besides the usual suspects of the Cronoman, Duano, Tim-mee!, myself, and JWR4, we had new acquisition sprinter John Grenier, fresh back from the Fireman's Games in Oceania Les Merrill, and returning to the fold after a multi-year hiatus Wayne Santos. Duano just about owns Ninigret, so without question he was our guy. JG and Duano have sprinted it out on many occasions, but besides being an all around great guy, Duano also signed John because as he puts it, "the best leadout man is another sprinter." Duano and John will be able to work off each other, diving through holes and using their speed in the hectic final few hundred meters of the crits. This is good news for me, because now I'm relegated to being more of a setup man, keeping the fields together and using my pursuiting abilities to keep things strung out during the final few kilometers.
Around halfway I worked my way up to test the lungs. Not long after moving toward the front, I got chopped in typical Ninigret fashion and had a fifty meter foray onto the grass along the backstretch. This set me back twenty spots, but my recovery was quick. Once again I went to the front, and JG was slotted in about 5th when the bell rang for a $20 prime. Thinking he might go for it, I did a half lap pull to pace it up onto the sprint stretch, but he didn't contest it. My wind wasn't that great, but again I recovered quickly, very encouraging. I took a breather for a few laps, but since this was a timed race of 60 minutes and we were past half way, I headed back up front, claiming a spot in the rotation. Nothing was getting away, but people were still trying. They brought out lap cards at five to go. Duano was up there, and I did a bit here and there to keep things together. With about three to go the most promising trio of the day formed off the front when Eric Pearce (Bethel), Joe Rano (Gearworks) and I think David Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel) moved ahead of a slightly larger bunch that had been dangling and playing games. These three probably had ten seconds at best. Tim-mee! put the pressure on at two to go and we reeled in the others, and as I pulled around I heard Duano shout "I'm here." Ok, good, so now it's time to keep it fast. As we crossed the line for the one to go bell, the leaders still had a gap but for me it was not a question of if I could bring them back, it was how long should I wait before doing so?
Onto the backstretch they were right in front of us. What I did not know was that we had split the field and there were now only fifteen in our group, plus the three ahead. That's what I get for not looking behind me. We were not in danger of getting swarmed, but I didn't know that, so I kept it fast and went around the break on the backside, and just kept the train rolling as fast as I could. The idea was to keep it strung out all the way to the frontstretch where the tailwind was, but 800 meters is a long way into the wind at 48 kph. Nobody came around me, and I thought it was weird, so in the last turn I glanced back and it was only then I realized there was no pack back there! Shit, I could have waited a lot longer. Gassed, I swung off and the sprint opened up from behind me. Duano later said it wasn't quite fast enough and he bogged down a bit in the 12 before retreating to the 13, and it was here Curley and Rano got a jump on him, so he got only third. JG went across 7th and I rolled in 11th, just ahead of the shattered remnants of the front bunch.
On the cooldown I saw Murat and his handlebar cam, and said hello. Many of the others stuck around to mix it up with him and the other kids in the 35+ race, but I was very satisfied with my efforts and just spun around the park a bit before heading home. It's hard to tell much from Ninigret, as it's flat as a pool table, but I was pleased to be able to handle myself well in this race with so little training behind me. Running has tuned the cardiovascular system well, and the rest should follow more easily. Sunday KL and I headed back out into the cold with plans of a three hour ride at slow tempo, but the winds and cold had us cutting it short at about 2:15. We then went right out for a 7K run just for punishment, and punish me she did with a 7:15/mile pace until we both started to bonk after about three miles. Not enough food and drink on the ride. For me this concluded three eight hour weeks in a row, not stellar, but an increase over the winter in both duration and intensity. If the warm weather ever gets here, I should be OK. Here is a Polar chart, but I had no speed nor cadence sensors on the race bike. The Cronoman said we averaged a mere 45.3 kph, but with his numerous jumps to contain anything that moved at the front, he averaged 303 watts for the hour. Thanks for reading.
Not only would this be my first race in the new BOB-Stonyfield Farm-Shift-Ariza-Goodales colors, but also my first race ever with a long sleeve skinsuit! That's right, I've never had one before, and just a few years ago my girth was such that wearing even my shortsleeve versions in public was forbidden by many local ordinances. We must protect the children... The Automaton captured a few images at this event, but none of me, so you'll have to wait to see my svelte new physique inside this lycra masterpiece.
Those warming up around me appeared all bundled and layered, but I went with just a longsleeve base layer, the skinsuit, knee warmers and lycra booties. Emerging from the car, the Cronoman, on his way to visit the bushes, "swung by" and informed me the 1-2-3 race currently had one lap to go. We were up next, but it was only 12:30 and they can't start early, so I had fifteen minutes to warm up. This was also my first ride of the year on the race bike, so I took a few laps and got used to the light touch brakes and shifters, making sure everything was working OK. I arrived on the starting line just as the official gave us the thirty seconds to go call.
At registration I was 69th on the list, woo-hoo, bonus. There looked to be about that many in the race, but only 50 finishers were listed, so there might have been a few no shows. I can't believe that many could have been dropped. The Ninigret course is layed out on an abandoned military airfield, right on the beach. Think windy, all the time. The direction may change, but the wind is ever present. The serpentine course layout has either seven or nine turns, depending on what you decide to count. Saturday the headwind gale blew right in the face of the pack along the more-twisty "backstretch." Along the front straightaway where the sprint line lies, we had a straight tailwind.
As stated earlier, I came into this with no idea of where my fitness was. My training over the winter and spring included lots of running, with three races thrown in, but sparse bike mileage, none of it really hard. Combined with a minimal warmup, this should have been a recipe for disaster. It wasn't. Even though the 45+ field including several former and current national champions, I was quickly reminded on the first lap that my peers are a bunch of old men. The wind held back the lead riders and sitting in was cake. It actually took me two or three laps to figure out how far ahead of time I had to start coasting in order to time the accordian effect correctly in and out of the many tight turns. From my vantage point near the tail of the group, I could see all kinds of attacks and action up front, but nothing was going anywhere before dying in the wind. The accelerations barely filtered their way all the way to the end of the line before they'd peter out and bunch back up.
The first half of the race my average HR was 148. That is zone 3, an unheard of low in a criterium. Was this that slow, or was I that fit? Team BOB-Shift had a large contingent in this race. Besides the usual suspects of the Cronoman, Duano, Tim-mee!, myself, and JWR4, we had new acquisition sprinter John Grenier, fresh back from the Fireman's Games in Oceania Les Merrill, and returning to the fold after a multi-year hiatus Wayne Santos. Duano just about owns Ninigret, so without question he was our guy. JG and Duano have sprinted it out on many occasions, but besides being an all around great guy, Duano also signed John because as he puts it, "the best leadout man is another sprinter." Duano and John will be able to work off each other, diving through holes and using their speed in the hectic final few hundred meters of the crits. This is good news for me, because now I'm relegated to being more of a setup man, keeping the fields together and using my pursuiting abilities to keep things strung out during the final few kilometers.
Around halfway I worked my way up to test the lungs. Not long after moving toward the front, I got chopped in typical Ninigret fashion and had a fifty meter foray onto the grass along the backstretch. This set me back twenty spots, but my recovery was quick. Once again I went to the front, and JG was slotted in about 5th when the bell rang for a $20 prime. Thinking he might go for it, I did a half lap pull to pace it up onto the sprint stretch, but he didn't contest it. My wind wasn't that great, but again I recovered quickly, very encouraging. I took a breather for a few laps, but since this was a timed race of 60 minutes and we were past half way, I headed back up front, claiming a spot in the rotation. Nothing was getting away, but people were still trying. They brought out lap cards at five to go. Duano was up there, and I did a bit here and there to keep things together. With about three to go the most promising trio of the day formed off the front when Eric Pearce (Bethel), Joe Rano (Gearworks) and I think David Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel) moved ahead of a slightly larger bunch that had been dangling and playing games. These three probably had ten seconds at best. Tim-mee! put the pressure on at two to go and we reeled in the others, and as I pulled around I heard Duano shout "I'm here." Ok, good, so now it's time to keep it fast. As we crossed the line for the one to go bell, the leaders still had a gap but for me it was not a question of if I could bring them back, it was how long should I wait before doing so?
Onto the backstretch they were right in front of us. What I did not know was that we had split the field and there were now only fifteen in our group, plus the three ahead. That's what I get for not looking behind me. We were not in danger of getting swarmed, but I didn't know that, so I kept it fast and went around the break on the backside, and just kept the train rolling as fast as I could. The idea was to keep it strung out all the way to the frontstretch where the tailwind was, but 800 meters is a long way into the wind at 48 kph. Nobody came around me, and I thought it was weird, so in the last turn I glanced back and it was only then I realized there was no pack back there! Shit, I could have waited a lot longer. Gassed, I swung off and the sprint opened up from behind me. Duano later said it wasn't quite fast enough and he bogged down a bit in the 12 before retreating to the 13, and it was here Curley and Rano got a jump on him, so he got only third. JG went across 7th and I rolled in 11th, just ahead of the shattered remnants of the front bunch.
On the cooldown I saw Murat and his handlebar cam, and said hello. Many of the others stuck around to mix it up with him and the other kids in the 35+ race, but I was very satisfied with my efforts and just spun around the park a bit before heading home. It's hard to tell much from Ninigret, as it's flat as a pool table, but I was pleased to be able to handle myself well in this race with so little training behind me. Running has tuned the cardiovascular system well, and the rest should follow more easily. Sunday KL and I headed back out into the cold with plans of a three hour ride at slow tempo, but the winds and cold had us cutting it short at about 2:15. We then went right out for a 7K run just for punishment, and punish me she did with a 7:15/mile pace until we both started to bonk after about three miles. Not enough food and drink on the ride. For me this concluded three eight hour weeks in a row, not stellar, but an increase over the winter in both duration and intensity. If the warm weather ever gets here, I should be OK. Here is a Polar chart, but I had no speed nor cadence sensors on the race bike. The Cronoman said we averaged a mere 45.3 kph, but with his numerous jumps to contain anything that moved at the front, he averaged 303 watts for the hour. Thanks for reading.
Friday, April 6, 2007
Surprise Linkage
Here is what happens when an entire team misses the start to a training race. Guess which one is KL?
This morning was consumed by some online hijinx with the teammates, and then squeezing in a quick five mile run, so no blog post was prepared. However, I just found out I got a surprise honorable mention (more like a feature!) on the widely read Bolder in Boulder blog, so I figured I'd better get a fresh post up stat.
Bolder knows that although I may smell like a dog sometimes, I swim like a cat (in other words, only to avoid drowning when thrown into the water), but that hasn't stopped him from trying to recruit me into triathlon. Hell, I'm doing the running races anyway, and I have a few duathlons behind and ahead of me. Two out of three ain't bad, right? Besides that, I know he is just a roadie and time trialist trapped in a triathlete's body and blogworld. Everyone knows cold and dark Canada has inexplicably been producing amazing cyclists for decades - Bauer, Steida, Sydor, Harnett, Hughes, Bessette, Walton... Why not Bold?
Hopefully his bike racing debut doesn't turn out like this. Check out the triple on the guy/girl who is about to endo. Thanks for reading!
Thursday, April 5, 2007
The One day of da 'Pan
Hello bike racers! Fans of the big stage over in Europe know this is the most important week of the racing calendar. Of course, everyone knows it's time for the Ronde, but insiders know that's not the real story. The big news is the lead up race, the KBC -3daagse DE PANNE – KOKSIJDE, also known as the Three days of DePanne. Why is this UCI mini-stage race that some of you have never heard of such a big deal? Because traditionally (ok maybe two out of the past three years) I've kicked off my "real training" with my own version, the Three Days of da 'Pan, or three consecutive days of training in the Blue Hills and the next-door gem of Boston, Mattapan.
There's nothing like three straight days attacking the short, steep climbs on the reservation's park roads mixed with traffic sprints on Blue Hill Ave in the heart o' the 'pan to get you in shape for the spring races. In years past, I'd schedule a few vacation days to coincide with the 3daagse, even recruiting some of the mates and KL to put in some big days of several hours each. This year, I guess the scheduling snuck past me, and before I knew it the 3daagse was here and I had to work. Going to Plan B, I figured I could just pack the bike in the car and head over to the 'hood every night, but the cold, rainy, true Belgian style weather has had me cowering with my tail between my legs.
Actually, Tuesday night I did make it out on the road after work, but I rode from home. I got a pretty late start, and it was sleety and drizzly, but all bundled up I rode hard to keep warm and made the best of it. Yesterday I didn't pack the bike as the forecast was a 100% chance of a shitfest, and sure enough after a dry morning the evening sucked. I got stuck at work past seven anyway, so I didn't even get on the trainer. That leaves us with tonight. With late word just in thatLuca Paolini Alessandro Ballan (oops, jumped the gun, didn't know today was a double stage) has won the overall, and more cold rain falling outside, I'll pack up my bike and woolies, hoping for the best tonight. Thanks for reading.
There's nothing like three straight days attacking the short, steep climbs on the reservation's park roads mixed with traffic sprints on Blue Hill Ave in the heart o' the 'pan to get you in shape for the spring races. In years past, I'd schedule a few vacation days to coincide with the 3daagse, even recruiting some of the mates and KL to put in some big days of several hours each. This year, I guess the scheduling snuck past me, and before I knew it the 3daagse was here and I had to work. Going to Plan B, I figured I could just pack the bike in the car and head over to the 'hood every night, but the cold, rainy, true Belgian style weather has had me cowering with my tail between my legs.
Actually, Tuesday night I did make it out on the road after work, but I rode from home. I got a pretty late start, and it was sleety and drizzly, but all bundled up I rode hard to keep warm and made the best of it. Yesterday I didn't pack the bike as the forecast was a 100% chance of a shitfest, and sure enough after a dry morning the evening sucked. I got stuck at work past seven anyway, so I didn't even get on the trainer. That leaves us with tonight. With late word just in that
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
How many people own a bathroom scale but are still fat?
For more gem quotes from KL, head over to her interview on John Hirsch's site. Thanks for clicking.
The blog entry that almost wasn't
My apologies for the lack of maintenance on the blog lately. You know the problem: winter is over and training time is ramping up faster than the time management skills. Where over the past few months we often experienced topical void (is that like a hole in your skin?), now I've got lots to write about, but unless I succumb and just spit it out all quick and disorganized like this, the chronicles never make it to the keyboard.
First up, meeting one more of my running goals, I PR'd for the 10K on Sunday at the Cohasset Road Race by the Sea. Due to a persistent calf/foot issue, the entire week prior I wavered back and forth on whether or not to start this race. Only running two times, both of them short, painful sessions, I got some rest and rode the bike each night, which had to start happening anyway. On Friday I determined the problem was indeed muscular in nature, with some tightness in the outer calf pinching something and causing pain down through the ankle and into the foot and heel with each foot strike. Breaking out the oil, I did some self-massage to loosen up the calf, and then tried using some amazing Bio-Freeze to kill the pain and get some sleep. By Saturday, everything was feeling great and the race was a go.
Saturday afternoon I went out on the bike. Intentionally holding back, and constrained by time, I rode about 60K at a modest tempo, all zone two stuff on the abundant flats surrounding the hometown. I felt great and would have liked to have stayed out for another hour and dug a bit, but I resisted. Later in the night, feeling the tightness returning, second thoughts entered my head, but when race day dawned crisp and sunny, off I went.
The Cohasset race is a pretty big deal; the race starts right in the center of the seaside village, attracting almost 1000 runners. In Massachusetts at this time of year, there are typically a half dozen or more road races to choose from on any weekend, so the talent gets spread out quite a bit. Still, there were several runners from GBTC and the other big clubs lined up on the front row. Since my 40:26 last year netted me top 40, I felt justified in lining up right behind them. Warming up the foot did not feel that great. The twinge with each step wasn't making me limp like it had early in the week, but its presence didn't inspire confidence either.
The gun went off and we ran down the main drag for about a quarter of a mile before turning onto the road along the north edge of the harbor. There was a headwind and I tried to stay tucked in behind what seemed like fifty runners ahead of me. After a bit we turned north and covered a roller or two before hitting the first mile marker at 5:57. I felt like I was suffering quite a bit, but my HR was only 161 and this was still ten seconds slower than I ran the first mile at the Brockton 5 miler, so I pressed on. PRs are supposed to hurt, right? The second mile led out to Jerusalem Road where the mighty Atlantic again becomes visible on your right. Past the million dollar homes, my second split was 6:13. Last year at this point the headwinds were brutal, and this is where I lost my chance at sub 40. This year the wind was just not there, and I was getting pretty warm.
The third mile split was 6:22, which was about two seconds ahead of the pace I needed to average in order to break forty minutes. Doing the math in my head, I knew I had about thirty seconds cushion, but I also realized I was slowing down and could easily blow it. Compounding the issue, despite wearing only shorts and a poly tshirt base layer, I was overheating. Adding to my plight, the fourth mile is clearly the toughest on this course. You hit two or three big rollers, then turn left onto Forest Ave and head back inland. The first hundred yards of Forest are a steep little climb. Last year this sine wave of a road was where the wind died and the race became an inferno. Luckily this year, conditions were just the opposite, and the mild headwind greeting us there provided a welcome relief.
Not so welcome was the 6:54 split awaiting me at the top. A few good runners surged by me too. This road is tough. There are about seven little bumps in the road, probably twenty feet in amplitude, providing difficulty without ever really giving you a long enough downhill facilitate any real recovery. I knew this was do or die. I got it back down to 6:34 by focusing on the backs of those who'd passed me. A 32 flat 5 mile time made this my third fastest ever for that distance. Right after that, I found my left shoe, the one with the chip, had untied! Looking down, at first I thought the chip was gone. FUCK! Without it, this was all for naught. I stopped, and to my glee, when the shoe came into focus I realized I'd put the chip a few eyelets down. The shoe was still secure, so I just started running again.
The last mile has quite a bit of downhill before a quick rise right before the final 200 meters where the clock comes into view. My ankle was getting whipped by the flying laces, but that was the least of my suffering. This running shit is hard. I pushed like I never have before in a running race. This was like the last five minutes of a 40K TT on the bike. Not daring to look at my watch, I held my spot and the clock came into view with 39:15 on it. I figured it couldn't take more than thirty seconds to run the final distance, but I wasn't taking any chances. I hammered all the way to the line and thought it said 39:40 when I crossed the mats, but my official time posted was 39:46, 28th overall, 8/145 in the master 40's. I made it. And it sucked. That's all I have time for now, thanks for reading.
First up, meeting one more of my running goals, I PR'd for the 10K on Sunday at the Cohasset Road Race by the Sea. Due to a persistent calf/foot issue, the entire week prior I wavered back and forth on whether or not to start this race. Only running two times, both of them short, painful sessions, I got some rest and rode the bike each night, which had to start happening anyway. On Friday I determined the problem was indeed muscular in nature, with some tightness in the outer calf pinching something and causing pain down through the ankle and into the foot and heel with each foot strike. Breaking out the oil, I did some self-massage to loosen up the calf, and then tried using some amazing Bio-Freeze to kill the pain and get some sleep. By Saturday, everything was feeling great and the race was a go.
Saturday afternoon I went out on the bike. Intentionally holding back, and constrained by time, I rode about 60K at a modest tempo, all zone two stuff on the abundant flats surrounding the hometown. I felt great and would have liked to have stayed out for another hour and dug a bit, but I resisted. Later in the night, feeling the tightness returning, second thoughts entered my head, but when race day dawned crisp and sunny, off I went.
The Cohasset race is a pretty big deal; the race starts right in the center of the seaside village, attracting almost 1000 runners. In Massachusetts at this time of year, there are typically a half dozen or more road races to choose from on any weekend, so the talent gets spread out quite a bit. Still, there were several runners from GBTC and the other big clubs lined up on the front row. Since my 40:26 last year netted me top 40, I felt justified in lining up right behind them. Warming up the foot did not feel that great. The twinge with each step wasn't making me limp like it had early in the week, but its presence didn't inspire confidence either.
The gun went off and we ran down the main drag for about a quarter of a mile before turning onto the road along the north edge of the harbor. There was a headwind and I tried to stay tucked in behind what seemed like fifty runners ahead of me. After a bit we turned north and covered a roller or two before hitting the first mile marker at 5:57. I felt like I was suffering quite a bit, but my HR was only 161 and this was still ten seconds slower than I ran the first mile at the Brockton 5 miler, so I pressed on. PRs are supposed to hurt, right? The second mile led out to Jerusalem Road where the mighty Atlantic again becomes visible on your right. Past the million dollar homes, my second split was 6:13. Last year at this point the headwinds were brutal, and this is where I lost my chance at sub 40. This year the wind was just not there, and I was getting pretty warm.
The third mile split was 6:22, which was about two seconds ahead of the pace I needed to average in order to break forty minutes. Doing the math in my head, I knew I had about thirty seconds cushion, but I also realized I was slowing down and could easily blow it. Compounding the issue, despite wearing only shorts and a poly tshirt base layer, I was overheating. Adding to my plight, the fourth mile is clearly the toughest on this course. You hit two or three big rollers, then turn left onto Forest Ave and head back inland. The first hundred yards of Forest are a steep little climb. Last year this sine wave of a road was where the wind died and the race became an inferno. Luckily this year, conditions were just the opposite, and the mild headwind greeting us there provided a welcome relief.
Not so welcome was the 6:54 split awaiting me at the top. A few good runners surged by me too. This road is tough. There are about seven little bumps in the road, probably twenty feet in amplitude, providing difficulty without ever really giving you a long enough downhill facilitate any real recovery. I knew this was do or die. I got it back down to 6:34 by focusing on the backs of those who'd passed me. A 32 flat 5 mile time made this my third fastest ever for that distance. Right after that, I found my left shoe, the one with the chip, had untied! Looking down, at first I thought the chip was gone. FUCK! Without it, this was all for naught. I stopped, and to my glee, when the shoe came into focus I realized I'd put the chip a few eyelets down. The shoe was still secure, so I just started running again.
The last mile has quite a bit of downhill before a quick rise right before the final 200 meters where the clock comes into view. My ankle was getting whipped by the flying laces, but that was the least of my suffering. This running shit is hard. I pushed like I never have before in a running race. This was like the last five minutes of a 40K TT on the bike. Not daring to look at my watch, I held my spot and the clock came into view with 39:15 on it. I figured it couldn't take more than thirty seconds to run the final distance, but I wasn't taking any chances. I hammered all the way to the line and thought it said 39:40 when I crossed the mats, but my official time posted was 39:46, 28th overall, 8/145 in the master 40's. I made it. And it sucked. That's all I have time for now, thanks for reading.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)