Fan-tastic

Yes, silly links are a lame way to make it to 500 posts, but who cares? Besides, one of the Funboy Three will probably post it if I don't. Here you go race fans. Thanks for, ughhh, whatever it is you're doing.

The crux of the biscuit

Fasten your chinstraps (and for God's sake, as well as your own, pull the damn thing down in the front. It does no good hanging off the back of your head), this could be a long and bumpy ride. This week we've looked at fashion (where helmet tilt was brought up), and over on Gewilli and the legendary Zoo Report the subjects that just won't go away, training, wisdom, the kingdom, power, and the glory. As much as I'd like to prove that resistance really isn't futile, it's been months since I've posted anything meatily thoughtful, and so away we go.

It's not time to drop the fashion subject just yet though. We'll get around to that, but these things must be done delicately. There's a few topics I want to cover, notably helmets, cycling caps, and bar tape. All three, of course, somewhat related to fashion. We'll get there. This is much deeper than that though. As I approach my historic 500th post, I want to reflect a bit on the essence of the blog, the audience, writing, and the meaning of life. Or something like that. Like the best rides, I just have ideas, not a planned route for this. We may end up way off course yet.

The best writing makes nearly each and every reader believe the piece was written specifically for them. Perhaps I've written this before. Sorry. Where have you been all my life! Now with a blog and its limited, targeted audience, this objective isn't nearly as challenging as it might be with a different medium. Hell, I only get between sixty and a hundred twenty distinct visitors a day, and I know most of you. I can write specifically to you if I want to. The funny part is when I don't, and five people all swear that it's them I was calling out. Some are easier to snare in this trap than others. Grin.

Half the time I back down from throwing some of this randomness out there for fear of inflaming one or more of my loyal readers. That's right, we actually worry about hurting feelings here. Direct, honest feedback isn't always well-received. Besides, this ain't Dear Abby; nobody writes in seeking advice anymore. And what the hell do I know anyway? (yes, there's a theme here). You think it's easy being a truly helpful, benevolent mofo?

What's this got to do with fashion and training? (two questions in a row, bad form) Well, training advice is partly a study of behavior, and behavior is a lot like fashion -- they both are always changing. That's one of the things that makes it so easy to suck readers in to concluding you're writing about them. Anytime you write about behavior, most likely it's something everyone's been guilty of to some degree at one time or another. Just like fashion. Stuff that you're proud of at one point in your life becomes a source of shame and embarrassment at another. People don't like shame and embarrassment... (yes, I know the ellipsis is the oldest and lamest trick in the book when it comes to the thinly-veiled direct reference to somebody bait. Why the hell do you think I put it in there?).

Which brings us to addressing the questions of training, practice, coaching, and racing directly. By now I hope you're not just wondering if you're one of my targets of the day, but instead are deeply contemplating your own sense of personal guidance and self-reliance. Only you can prevent forest fires... I can preach about practice, training, and racing, but why should anyone listen? It's not like I've ever set the sporting world ablaze. Experience? Well, (now maybe you'll "get" the big preface) without mentioning any names, but including myself of course, there are thousands of people who've done hundreds of races, yet never improved very much. I think they call us Cat 3s. One of my old teammates (a cat 2) once said "there is no such thing as a good cat 3." He pissed a few people off, including me, and in retaliation I rode the fucker right off my wheel at Loudon one night, on the way to a solo win. Yet he was right, at least in a way.

So practice doesn't make perfect. I've no data to back it up, but I'd guess that riders who come into the sport having already developed a good "engine" prior to entering their first race ultimately having a better success rate (i.e. upgrading) than those who start racing prematurely. Yes, it's true, there's a skill set associated to bike racing (any form) that's only loosely related to fitness. You won't get this any way except racing (ok, maybe a little from racing something other than bicycles, especially something with wheels), so some "practice" is a must. Yet I've seen people with just a few years racing discover things that have escaped me for two decades. Lucky for me, these nice kids are willing to pass it on. I'm still learning, but the quantity of practice hasn't got much to do with it. There are some guys who ride Wompatuck every week, and have been doing so for years, yet are still the same moving road block every time we roll through the only tight spot on the course. Practice has done nothing for them.

OK, now I'm lost, or at least losing my way. Maybe I need a coach! One who knows everything! Oh yeah, that was another point. Nobody had personal coaches back before the internet. Which is odd, because with the internet, you'd think there'd be more information out and available for free than ever before. There used to be just a few books and that was that. Do people even read books on training anymore? Maybe they do, then quickly find dissenting opinions on the internet, and they get confused, and hire a coach to help them sort it out? Or does the internet just make it easier to be a coach?

More on fashion and bar tape coming at you soon. Now I feel like going for a ride. I'd really like to be fashionable and go without the helmet too. For some reason that's been happening to me lately. For the record, I haven't ridden without a helmet since 1985, save for a few times on broiling climbs in the high desert when the risk of brain meltage from 120 degree temps outweighed the risk of toppling over at three mph. Thanks for reading (that was just for you...), and win one for the Gipper.

Oddly enough

Entry into this race gets you a free t-shirt. And where do you pin your number? Thanks for reading.

How's that easy month going?

First off, let's begin with me expressing my disappointment with the lack of reader participation in the fashion quiz. Just for that, you're going to have to wait a few days (or more) for the rich photo expose. Fuckers.

So the month is almost over, and with it ends Q2 2008 as well. May ended up looking good on paper, with a few top 10's in tough races, a duathlon win, and nearly sixty hours worth of workouts logged. Yet somehow I managed to also add 3-4 kilos to my mass. I don't have a good explanation, other than maybe those "supplements" Whitey gave me at Battenkill. Stuff must really work...

I knew at the time I was feeling pretty tired, and I talked myself into taking the month of June off from racing, even though there were some events I normally look forward to competing in. Taking a few weeks to let my both my body and bank account rebuild seemed like a good idea. But I fucked it up. I'm still tired, I'm still poor, and the extra kilos are still there. What went wrong? Well, looking back, even though I did manage to make myself skip all the weekend USCF races, the diary still includes three training crits, two five mile running races, a ten mile trail run, and a 100k pseudo time trial training ride in 90 degree heat (3:03 sans aero equipment and with heavy wheels, in case you're wondering). Other than that, I mostly took it easy...

33 total hours in 25 days. That might be a good rest for a real athlete, but I guess it's not for an old slug like me. Last night I went out on one of my typical summertime sunset cruises, and I was no match for even the five year olds with crooked helmets out learning to ride. Lifeless. It's a good excuse to sit here and write this rather than going out to run though, right? Tonight, hopefully the rain will hold off as a bunch of us are going to the Rox game. We'll be in right field or at the beer stand if you want to stop by.

Last but not least, somehow I missed the fact that Ironman CdA was last weekend. Congrats to Spokane Al and Bolder for taking this on and living to tell about it. Hopefully we can pull these two over to the dark side of bike racing sometime in the future. Thanks for reading.

The Lame Link

I'll beat Gewilli to the punch and post a link to the cycling style etiquette article on Pez. Looks like Josh must have been reading my gumby hunting post in between stages at the Tour de Nez. Leadout points to anyone who can ID three violations I've been known to perp. Thanks for reading.

Squantum 5 Race Report

Free beer, Columbia Point, and a million-dollar smile

I wasn't going do write a race report for this one, but then I read Reuter the Great's tips on how to make him read my blog, and was so moved by his elegant prose that my fingers just flocked to the crumb-filled keyboard like _ _ _ _ _ _ _

help me out here. my ideas were all too politically incorrect/ socially insensitive/just plain nasty to use, and I can't afford to drive away any more of my dwindling readership

This race was an evening affair, beginning inside Marina Bay, and looping around the Squantum peninsula before returning back to the complex. The last half mile was run over a tight harborside bike path with several 90 degree corners, and even turned to dirt for the last few hundred meters. 199 runners were listed in the results. Don't let the slow times fool you - this was a hard race. Despite being right on the water, the temps were pretty warm, in the 80's. The run out was flat on the Marina Bay access road, then turned onto the main road across the causeway into Squantum. With the Easton five miler from just four days prior in my legs, the plan was to go out easier than usual and see what happened. Several runners sprinted out ahead of me, including the carrot-top kid I've seen before, who took the lead, and ended up winning. At the entrance to Marina Bay, the police motorcycles and the leader took the long way around the traffic island, as did everyone else except one BAA guy who cut the corner and gained fifteen seconds.

I got to the mile one marker at 6:12, slower than I'd expected or planned for. Knowing there was a significant hill coming up though, I kept it steady. Turning onto Bellevue I moved up one spot on the quarter-mile long grade, closing in on a few others. By the top I was a few meters behind one guy who looked 40+, with another thirty meters to two more guys. Mile two passed at 12:23, so no change in pace. The middle of the course was all up and down along the perimeter road, with Wollaston beach across the water on our left. The pavement on this section was all busted up, making it even tougher. Descending back toward the main road for the run back, there was no mile three marker, at least not that I saw. I'd closed in on the first guy, and ran on his shoulder as he brought back the next two. This was the tightest race I've ever been in.

Turning back into the complex, all four of us were together. I was suffering. The others seemed better. Mile four passed at 24:56 or so, meaning my pace had not improved. I couldn't believe it, because I was dying, but I hung on to the group for dear life. Entering the bike path, the first guy surged ahead. Damn. The next guy went after him, but the youngest looking guy, an HFC Strider, hung back. I passed him at the half mile to go marker and tried to pour it on. Not. After a few turns, where it went back to dirt, he kicked and blew by me. I ended up on the losing end of the foursome, with a slow 6:26 last mile for an official time of 31:21 (6:16 average pace). This was the most fun I've ever had running though. I was in a race. My average HR was way up there, about 10 bpm higher than most of the races I've done this year.

Post race I did a good cooldown running around all the bars and restaurants next to the boatyard. Afterwards they had free beer, and for awards they had a grab bag of Reebok clothes. I ended up 8th overall, 3rd in my age group and still got a super-nice quarter zip pullover that probably would have been forty bucks even at the outlet mall. This was in addition to the best race t-shirt I've ever got, truly stylish, different, and high quality. All this and free Harpoon makes me excuse the crappy hot dogs they had for food. Put this one on your list for next year. Thanks for reading.

Huh, huh

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Hardware

At long last, here's the newly rebuilt Slim Chance. The frame was built in the old Somerville shop in the summer of 1994. It's not stock, as it was an employee bike and he scrounged/played around with tubing choices. It has fat Yo Eddy straight chainstays mixed with some lighter than standard main tubes. I had it repainted at IF a few years ago. For this build, I tried an Easton EC30 carbon fork, as this was all I could find in a 1 inch headtube size. It seems pretty good, lively yet still stiffer than the old steel unit. The rest of the build is mostly 10 speed Dura-Ace, with skimpage on the calipers and front changer, which are Ultegra. I sourced a proper 17 degree drop level Ritchey stem, which is paired with 3T bars. It probably wouldn't have killed me to leave another 5 mm or so on the head tube, but it's too late now. I like the fit. The bike comes in at under 20 elbows as pictured with open 4 wheels. It rides so sweetly. My favorite bike is always going to be the one that doesn't creak!



Last night at Wompatuck, the thunderclouds opened up as soon as I got on my (other) bike. I got to spend 40 minutes waiting it out under a tree with the best bike rider ever to come out of Brockton. We had a delightful conversation covering a wide range of topics, including the always entertaining tales of the D3 Pro life on the road. Eventually the storm relented and we got under way for a 20 lap race. The field was small and the course was a mess so Adam bailed and headed back home because he had a morning flight to a race in Texas. Lucky him.



As you can see, since the Wompatuck course gets covered in leaves, pine needles, and general muck when it rains hard, so does your bike by the time you're done. Was this a 'cross race or something? Everyone stayed up, though some of the regulars really need to branch out and race elsewhere once in a while in order to improve their skills. Skip was getting very irritated with the way some of these guys were slowing for the turns, which weren't all that slick. My legs sucked, so I felt like I was between gears all night, but I still got in a few efforts and made the trip down worthwhile before returning home for beer, nachos, and basketball on TV. Tomorrow night will be the Squantum 5, and then maybe a running break. I'm really not sure what to do. On one hand I know the running is f'ing up my bike legs, but on the other I'm considering that this may be the only way to HTFU and get used to doing two sports at once. Thanks for reading.

Rerun

Bolder announced that he is retiring from blogging. Bolder's was the first blog I started to follow. The guy has written some very entertaining entries. Lately though, I'd been wondering what was up. His blog just did not seem, well, happy anymore. I hope we still hear from him in one way or another. Thanks for the efforts dude!

I wonder about the sources of unhappiness. I don't know, but I'm getting more and more optimistic with age. Why are you miserable? Get over it and be happy. It's pretty easy. People do shit. Let it go. Smile.

You may have noticed my entries have become a bit sparse too. There's not much going on. I'm taking the month off from racing, well, for the most part. My form sucks and my energy level has been down during workouts, and I think it's just because I started early in the season and have maintained an unrelenting schedule. The past few weeks have helped. I should be able to build back up for the late summer and early fall. This will be my first attempt at a multi-peak season in quite some time.

Despite skipping most of the racing this month, Sunday I had a 5 mile road race literally right outside my doorstep, so I went and ran the Children's Museum Road Race. This was the first running event I've done since February where I did not do a bike race or hard ride the day before. I went in with fairly high hopes, as my legs were fresh and I even had new racing shoes for the first time. They got about 300 runners this year, and at the start one of the masters that I know remarked it was the best running conditions in years for this race, around 60 degrees and misting lightly. This one typically takes place in oppressive heat and humidity, so the cool temps were a refreshing change.

Well, it didn't last as by the time the siren went off to start the event, it was raining. I went out about ten runners back, and felt pretty good. It's flat then climbs slightly. At one mile the rain was falling steady and I hit the mark in 5:49. By two miles I'd been passed by some kids and wasn't feeling so great, my split was around six flat and it was now pouring. By mile three most of the road was covered with two inch deep puddles, and I'd slowed to 6:14 pace. Ditto mile four. Mile five was run in an all out deluge and I stumbled through it in 6:11 for an official finish time of 30:30, 9th overall, 2nd in my age group. Kind of a disappointment, but it probably shouldn't be, as I simply haven't been putting in enough running miles to do a good time, and the conditions probably cost me a few seconds as well.

The next few weeks will be much of the same. I'll probably run another five miler on Thursday night, then maybe bag the running for the month of July. I still don't have any race plans in the immediate future. If the motivation to ride doesn't come back strong within a few weeks, I guess I'll need to figure out how to work some variety into the mix.

Good luck Bolder, thanks for reading.

Gumby Hunting

I didn't want to write this, as I'm not a sucky meanie (like so many bloggers...) but then I read not one, but two blogs making Celine Dionne references casting her in a positive light, thus it was this or poking out my eyes and eardrums with a dull letter opener, so here you go. I've got maybe eight minutes until my frozen pizza is ready to consume, and I've got to split that between writing and enjoying a Kirin Ichiban Special Reserve, which, btw, tastes just like the old school Schaefer Dad used to drink. Very appropriate, with this being father's day and all.

True Gumby Hunting, in case you're wondering, was taught to me by the legendary Buzz Tarlow, a rower , cyclist, and wannabee coach from the olden days of the BRC. The idea is for a seasoned and trained bike racer to patrol the roadways on a sunny summer Saturday. What's so special about that? He/she goes in disguise: old bike, preferably a 3-speed Raleigh with a bell, baggy shorts, and an old Bell Biker helmet. You troll the popular routes, waiting for Tommy Tube Socks to come flying by in his Discovery jersey (ok, in those days it would have been 7-11). On his no doubt new bike, he'll give you a look of disdain as he flies past. You get on his wheel. If he looks back, ring the bell, and maybe give a spastic, short bus wave. He'll up the pace...



If you're any good, Tommy should be no match for you, even though your equipment is severely outclassed. After all, you're on his wheel, and you're a racer, and he's still reading Bicycling. The game should play out pretty quickly - within a mile or two, Tommy should be sprinting and ready to blow. When the moment comes, you cruise by, jing-a-ling! Buzz claimed he used to do this for hours out on the Charles. More fun than real racing!

Today I did not set out to go gumby hunting. In fact, since my form has suddenly vanished, I just headed out for a very easy ride, wearing my normal team kit, head to toe. I wasn't riding an old 3-speed, just my fourteen year old pseudo-Slim Chance (it's an employee bike, so the frame was somewhat mongrelized), which I recently rebuilt from the frame up with every piece brand new except the front hub, seat, and seatpost (and I have new stuff for those too, just haven't put them on). I felt pretty crappy at first, but after ten miles or so my legs came around a bit and I upped my pace down a flat stretch of road that I ride often. At the end, turning right, I shut it down and was sipping my water when I heard a bit of a grunt, not really a hello, more of an "out of the way, chump" as two guys on aerobars raced past. Triathletes... And they say roadies have no manners... At first I just let them go, as my general rule is never, ever race anyone you run into out on the road, unless of course you know them. But then a third guy comes by, clearly struggling to get up to the other two, and he's a big guy, grinding a huge gear, basically humping his bike like a bag of Baltimore garbage. A sight to behold.

I'm now about ten bike lengths back, taking it all in. The road starts to rise and the first two bog down (obviously gassed from showing me who's boss...) enough for Humpy to grind his way past. The second guy, who we'll call Jaja (he's wearing a circa 1999 Tiscali jersey) hangs back a bit himself, at least creating the illusion that he's training for no-drafting triathlon. The first guy, in a plain kit, harbors no such qualms and would probably have hitched up the tow hook if he had one. For lack of a better name, we'll call him Jeff Gordon (I'd call him David Pearson, but most of you probably aren't old enough to know who he is/was). On another aside, don't ever where a pro team kit unless you're on that team, or it's at least ten years out of date. So Jaja was almost within the rules. KAS, Molteni, or La Vie Claire? No problem. But put that Discovery jersey away until at least 2017, ok Greg?.

Over the crest, Humpy is showing us what he's got. Jeff Gordon is on his bumper. Jaja is keeping pace from the legal minimum three bike length distance, and I'm still rolling along about forty meters back, fighting the temptation to drop the hammer. Patience, patience... I let them go, maybe a hundred meters, then up my tempo just to see if I can close the gap. Not a problem, but it's work. Not something I could do on a 3-speed anyway. Gumby hunting ain't what it used to be, and neither am I. We take a turn and I give them back their hundred meters...

Now these are roads I ride all the time, so I know every rise and dip, and there are two little rises coming up. On queue, Humpy detonates on the first one, and the other two just leave him for dead. Jeff Gordon wants no part of the front though, so he let's Jaja come through, and jumps on his wheel. The pace rises, so I start to close it back up before the second rise. Going past Humpy, I try to get him to get on my wheel and bring him back, but his efforts have left him in the twilight zone. Buh-bye.

Now, drafting off the first two and then dropping them on the rise would be too easy, so I hang back about ten bike lengths, and stay there for a mile or two. Jeff Gordon looks over his shoulder to check for Humpy, and of course does a double take before urging Jaja to pick it up and get rid of me. Perfect. Why am I even enjoying this? Have I sunk this low? Yes I have, and I roll past on the rise, making sure I'm riding on the tops for effect. I know Jaja has been on the front for five minutes and doesn't have a chance, but I take it up a gear just in case Jeff Gordon gets any ideas. Then another, then another, and by now I'm in the 14 and going over 40 kph, and I never see them again.



This story has no moral. And my pizza is done. And it's time for another beer. Happy Father's Day, and thanks for reading.

Peanuts, Beer, and Sweet Caroline

Not to mention Manny at the plate and on the big screen. A win would have been nice too, but what the hey. I have to do this more often. Oh, and by the way, my form has been going downhill... Thanks for reading.

An Unspecified Location

It's a good thing I don't have a coach. Coaches like specificity. I'm at a very unspecific time in my very unspecific training program with very unspecific goals. In fact, since last August, my only goal has been to be a better overall athlete. Which, although woefully unspecific, is at least consistent with my longer term goals of staying alive, healthy, and able to continue enjoying the training process, unencumbered by goals. Ummm, wait a minute...

Goal or no goal, I think I'm a better athlete today than I was last August, so that's good. Along the way though, I've fallen for some of the traps I'm always cautioning others to avoid. There's been no real break in training since December, and that was short. I started racing early in the spring, and for the past eleven weekends I've been in competitions of one sort or another. Of course, it's now the height of the season and there's no shortage of events in the next few months. And I don't have much of a plan for any of them. I don't even know where I am now. I'm not peaking, not resting, not building, not tapering. I'm not really sure which of these I should be doing.

I am observing though. Reading your blogs. Don't be dismayed by the lack of comments. Despite my alternate identity as Nega-Coach, in reality I'm a pretty helpful mofo. You've give me a lot of ideas, and there's a lot I've wanted to comment on at length, but for now I'd rather watch, listen, and maybe learn something. As well, I've noticed (or maybe it's just what I read) road racers don't blog about their races so much. Maybe it's because all races are kind of the same. Some of them blog about their training, but with the power meters that's about as exciting as reading Oldsmobile torque specs out of an old Chilton's manual. Then some of you attempt to be funny, with mixed success. The mountain bike racers (and displaced cyclocrossers, remind me to expand on that later...) write more about their races, probably because they get lonely out there and have a lot to think about. And each race is different, more of an adventure than a race. These guys don't train either (I'm kidding) so there's nothing to write about there. Then we have the multi-sport people. In contrast to my race twice every weekend and forget all about the successes and failures two days after they happen approach, these fine folks build their entire seasons, and in fact their entire lives, around one or two events per year. This give them a lot to blog about, but it's mostly stress, pressure, and the mental struggles that go along with building for months and months all toward one day. I'll shut up about that for now too.

I told you this was unspecific. And oh yeah, I have a sore hamstring. Not typical either, this could be trouble. Which of course, sets me adrift even further this month. I'd sort of been thinking of shit-canning the entire month of bike racing, doing just some local running races to save cash, then making a six week charge through my favorite bike races in July and early August, but now that might not work. I can ride fine, but I'm unsure about the running. That's it for now. Good luck to everyone who has a big event this weekend. And click the Cheney pic and scroll through some of the results if you want some laughs. Thanks for reading.

A Record of Sorts

This was supposed to be a rest week, but three days off the bike and five days away from the blog had quite a rejuvenating effect. Friday, with 80 degree temps officially kicking off the summer, I rode to work and felt fine. Rather than take the weekend off, I made a last minute deal with myself Friday night. If I could get my aerobars and race wheels on, pack the bike in the car, rotate the new car to the end of the driveway, and get all my clothing packed by 9 pm, then I'd go out and get some ice cream, and then race the Rye-by-the-Sea duathlon in the morning. This would be the last chance to race a du until the fall. I made it too. Ate a bowl of chocolate chip and went to bed. For my efforts, I was rewarded with the distinction of posting the slowest winning time in the twelve year history of this event!

At 5:40 am I rolled out. It was not raining, big bonus. Arriving at 7:25, I just made registration before it closed. The race starts at 8. It was still not raining, and quite warm. Got kitted up, checked my bike into transition, and "warmed up" by running to the p-john while the announcer said "athletes to the line, three minutes to the start." The run course starts on pavement for one mile before turning into the woods. The serpentine trail was in the best shape ever this year, dry and nicely groomed by the crew. After a mile of this you get dumped out into what I was told is an abandoned airfield. It's all taped off like a cyclocross course where it winds back on itself a few times, so you get a good look at the competition. You then head back over a small hill and into transition.

A group of about ten runners had fifteen seconds or so on me as we hit the woods. I felt pretty good, with mile one coming at 5:52. The woods are soft footing and slower, and some of the airfield is similar with gravel. On the switchbacks I calculated I would come into the transition a minute back, and that turned out to be correct, 19:26. They only have mats for the run, so both transitions get included in the bike time. T1 was better than usual for me, and I self-timed it at around 1:15. I ate a gel and passed a few riders. Then I started to get caught up in car traffic which was stuck behind some riders. It was crazy time, passing the line on the left and bewildering the cop at the intersection, but I came out of it alive. Steady progress, oddly enough, my legs felt great. I had ATACs on, and did not adjust my seat height from the Speedplays, so the saddle was a touch low. No worries.

The 17 mile bike course has mile markers just like a running race. Just after passing mile 5, I see three guys ahead behind a police car with flashing lights. The leader! I pass him before mile six. Now I start thinking shit, it only took me six miles to close the run gap. I have eleven miles more of riding. I should be able to win this thing.

The middle nine miles of this course head south right along the beach, on what I feel is the most scenic oceanside riding on the east coast. I wasn't enjoying it too much though, as there was a stiff and constant 3/4 headwind off the water the entire way. Normally at this race, there are at least twenty riders who post a bike split under 50 minutes. This year there were three. I had great legs though. The last few miles riding back inland, I kept the power on until the last mile, and then soft pedaled a bit to get ready for the run. When I went into transition, the announcer said I had a huge lead. I fumbled a bit getting my running shoes on, but headed back out across the mat, where we start the same run course, but in reverse. Still nobody in sight. The switchbacks come at the start of the run this time, and you can see back a full two minutes. When I headed into the woods, still nobody behind. Just don't twist an ankle...

Out of the woods, just one mile of road run to the line. Of course, I'm sharing this road with the bike riders who are still finishing. I stay way to the right... Then, whammo! Some clown riding with his head down nails me from behind, but luckily only gets my arm and shoulder, and I keep my feet. He seems incredulous as I launch my tirade. WTF dude? The lane was twenty feet wide. Anyway, without much fanfare, I run in and cross the line about two minutes ahead of the next guy. Yippee.

I don't want to disrespect my competitors by calling the field "soft," but when the second place guy is 55 years old, and third place is 17, well, you know it wasn't exactly stacked. My time was a whopping eight minutes off the course record, and normally would have only been good for about tenth place. At 119 athletes, the field size was only about half what it usually is. Not sure why, maybe a full calendar, lack of prizes, and shitty weather forecast. It wasn't all bad though. The same course worker who told me the airfield story also said they had remeasured the course, and this was the first time it was ever a full 5k. It used to be just 3 miles, so they added length to the switchbacks. Then there was the headwind on the water. When I went out for my cooldown ride, going in reverse of race direction, I went almost as fast as while racing, and barely had to pedal. The breeze was that strong. So I feel very good about my bike split. It was only two and change off the record holder's bike split, and I'm sure his transitions accounted for a minute or so of the difference. So with the wind, I know I did a good ride. My second run time was almost identical to the first, even without close competition. And of course, it's still better to win in a weak field than it is to not win in a weak field, right? Thanks for reading.