The Bicycle Butcher

Were I feeling especially creative, maybe I'd devise some sort of cool Halloween graphic to go with this title. Really though I simply threw it up there because The Canton Fall Classic 10k Race Report as well as Stuff I left out of the Wrentham Report was too long. And I'm not feeling creative. I don't even have a quick snapshot of my bike's issues before I "fixed" them Saturday morning. That's the cool thing about a noontime start for a local race -- you can play mechanic in the morning, just like the pros. And not take pictures.

I always do my own work on my bikes. I always have. One of my rules for shopping is to always put at least one tool on every order of bicycle-whorehouse parts you buy. This way you can accumulate all the stuff you'll need to keep your stable of machines race ready. If you can find them that is. My friends and acquaintances all make fun of me because I take forever to get stuff done on my bike. And they foolishly confuse little stuff like reluctance to spring for new bar tape, crooked stems (don't have an eye for that) or dirty wheels as signs of mechanical incompetence. I think I know what I'm doing. I've even had some training, and learned a ton of stuff being responsible for the well being of a wide variety of mechanical equipment over the years. I'm not overconfident, yet in hundreds of bike races, if I've ever had a DNF mechanical, I don't remember it. But I know I'm a hack. And these days I'm really lazy, working on bikes annoys me, and I don't like getting my hands dirty. So if I can get by leaving the bike as is, I do.

There are limits though. Last week I noted (on the warmup lap) that I should have put my Thudbuster ST seatpost on my bike. Yes, it weighs 140 grams more than my already heavy by today's standards Suntour XC Pro, so boo-hoo. Those of you complaining about back pain should take note -- lower back agony will slow you down a lot more than those 140 grams ever will. So I took care of this. Luckily, I had a spare Flite saddle with the cover ripped completely off, just like the one already on the bike, so I could save the other seat/seatpost setup as is just in case. Done. Then we moved on to the real issue - gearing. Last year I had 38/47 chainrings on this bike. Most courses I ran a 12/27 9speed cassette. No worries, except you may remember a few dropped chain issues. Well, fiddle as I may, I could not obtain acceptable shifting with this chainring combination and any front changer I had in house. These days they are designed for 14T difference and while 12 or even 10 might work OK, 9 was not for me. So I caved, threw the 47T ring across the room, rummaged through my box o' rings and found a brand new 130 bolt pattern 50T Salsa. A bit big for cx, but on it went. Front shifting nirvana, with minimal fussing. The only problem was I'd already gone with a new DA chain, and I'd cut it pretty short (hey, maybe this wasn't helping my front shifting either eh?) and now with the 50T is was just too short. In the 50x24 the rear changer was laid out horizontal, and should I force feed it the 27 by mistake or on purpose, something bad was bound to occur. Since those are exactly the kind of shifting mistakes/decisions that happen all the time in cross races, this situation was one of those mythical mechanical DNF just waiting to flower. What to do? Well, for Gloucester I put on a 12/25 and said f-it, let's go. It still wouldn't cross over, but I rolled the dice and finished the race. Canton too. Wrentham? Hey, like I said, the race isn't until noon. Now sure, I could put on a new chain, or even find some links and add them to this one. No thanks. Those Shimano magic pins are voodoo enough; I don't need two or three of them. No, I'm going to pull a Yogi and be smarter than the average bear, and just swap out the cassette for a 12/23.

Can you believe it took me 1000 words just to spit that out? So yeah, now I've got 38/50 with a 12/23. Not exactly cx bike gearing, but on today's kinder, gentler courses, I've rarely found myself in the little ring anyway, so what the hell. Nothing is ideal here anyway. My 21 pound beast literally looks sick (I mean sick and dieing) next to Bold and Hines' new bikes. So I'm going to worry about having the wrong gears? Please. Anyway, this was just my way of telling you I rode the entire race at Wrentham in the little ring. I still don't trust the front shifting, and the course isn't all that fast. I may have got to the 14 cog or so, but I never looked down so I can't really tell you. Maybe it was the 12, who cares.

I also ran the same aged Michelin Mud clincher on the front that I've ridden at every race this year. Inflated it to 41 psi, slammed a few rocks and roots in the woods and lived to tell about it. In the rear I ran a Tufo something or other, not the fancy Flexus, sure as hell not an FMB or whatever the boutique-chic tire of the week is, inflated to 36 psi, and with the suspension post I didn't ding the rim at all this week. And I have top mounts. We're talking BOB masters here dudes. Like it says on the the green wheel you know. And by the way Trackrich, that's also the proper response for all the heckling we're giving you since your win.

There you have it, all the stuff that was left out of the Wrentham report. Damn this is getting so Gewilli. Just don't tell him I bought my salad all made at the market... And oh yeah, the Canton 10k. That was Sunday. After Wrentham, on the cooldown lap, I felt incredibly toasted. Then after twenty minutes or so, not so bad at all. Maybe I'm getting used to this. High hopes for Canton were pretty dashed though. Just as the Pinnacle Challenge ceased to be an "A" event the instant I signed up to race Gloucester on the prior day, the Canton 10k went down the shitter when I decided that I just couldn't pass up a $20 race twenty minutes from home, and went to Wrentham on Saturday. Time for a goal adjustment. Canton isn't exactly a PR course anyway. It's not certified for one thing, and it's hilly and hard for another. So instead of going crazy and worrying about my time, I'd focus on my pacing and try (once again) to run negative splits. The Anti-Slide if you will...


Happy Halloween!

Short version - didn't work out that way. Long version - the race is hilly, and starts out downhill, thus splits don't matter at this mofo. I thought I was holding back at the start. It's hard to tell how many people are in front of you, as the 5k and 10k start together. But I was a long way back. Mile one the guy says 5:39. Fuck! That was not supposed to happen. Well, maybe he was in the wrong place. More downhill, mile two and I'm at 11:40, a 5:51 split. That's better, I guess, but there's no way I'm running this entire thing sub 6 pace. My goal was actually a 6:04 pace, as this was slightly faster than the 10k McMillan equivalent for the 5 mile time I ran a few weeks ago. With the Canton course being harder, this was quite a stretch, especially with Wrentham in my legs from Saturday. But wtf, I'm not getting any younger, I have to try right? The third mile winds downhill through some tight turns on neighborhood roads before kicking into a steep 300 meter wall back up to Green Lodge street, which heads down yet again. I pass one guy in a GNRC kit on the wall, but he stays with me. 17:45, 6:16 split. Could this be a slide? Mile 4 is downhill for about a quarter mile, then stairstep up. Very tough, with the marker a bit before the top of the toughest part, so not only does it hurt this split, it gets the next one off to a sorry start too. 6:11. I'm trying to follow a guy in front of me but now he's pulling away. Turns out he's over 50 anyway, not in my age group. Post race he told me he is a "hiblit" -- "Had it but lost it." Heh-heh. Mile five rolls. It has some downhill, but ends with a nasty wall just after the turn onto Dedham Street. 30:21, 6:25. Hmmm, that's a few seconds faster than my 5 mile time from two weeks ago, and now the hard stuff is all behind me. It's still uphill the rest of the way, but gradual. Mr. Hiblit's evidently still got it compared to me, because he's pulling away and kicking ass, passing three runners. I find my rhythm, and I know I'm running decent. I'm going to break 38... I even catch one guy, but not the other two. The last 1.2m ends up taking 7:14, a 6 flat pace, and I finish in 37:35, 12th overall, 3rd in the male 40-49. What do you know, that's a 6:04 pace. So it wasn't exactly negative splits, but it was a good finish, and it wasn't another slide. Thanks for reading.

The Slide

If you're good enough to contend for the win or a major placing in a cross race, whatever the category, then I guess that means you go into it with a strategic plan, and the confidence that you can match up with the leaders throughout the start, middle, and finishing portions of the race. You know who the other contenders are, you keep them close at the start, dissect them tactically in the middle, and try to kick their asses in the end. At least that's how I perceive the battles up front, as personally I've never been in a position like that in a cyclocross race... not even close.

For us who live in the middle of the thundering herd, the approach is somewhat different and varied. We know there are dozens of riders in the event who are just flat out faster than us, and whom we stand no chance whatsoever of beating. At major events, these speediest competitors get lined up in the front and we never have to worry about them at all (unless either the course is short and/or we are exceptionally slow, in which case they may lap us). The pack fodder riders all know that by the end of the race, the order gets sorted out and you end up racing against the same old nemeses and victims as always. It might make sense to just line up with them and have at it. But no. Racing is about seeking any advantage you can get. And nothing is so holy as getting your name up on the bikereg race results three spots ahead of Hairy McScrub. So when given an opportunity to line up several rows ahead of your rivals, you're going to make the most of it, right?

So what's making the most of it? And why all these stupid questions? Well, most of you know we've thrown around the debate topic of going out with guns blazing, securing a good spot, then doing "the slide" versus starting conservatively, waiting for the pack to string out, and then making a late race charge to 25th place glory. I'm generally in the latter camp. Going out too hard and blowing up prematurely is almost always the wrong way to contest a race. Maybe it will work better on a course with tons of drafting sections, as hanging on to a spot in a sweet, fast groupetto may draw you so far out in front of Hairy your higher placing will be secure. Most of the time though, cx is more like a TT or even a running race. You won't find people sprinting off the line doing well in either of those. I've also found people who will fight you to the death for the good line on lap one, probably crashing both of you out, will often have no fight left by the bell lap. OK, three long paragraphs in and we haven't started the race report yet. Talk about a slide...

By now those of you who were at Wrentham may have figured out where this is going. Your hero pre-registered, thus earning a starting spot just three orderly five-person rows back from the front of the Master 35/45 race. With 55 or so registered starters, those fast guys who signed up on race morning were a long way back. Even better, since the lineup of pre-registered riders was loosely based on cx ability, in theory I had twenty riders allegedly slower than me stuck in as a buffer between my row and the fast guys in the back. The Wrentham course is anything but a drafting layout, and in fact probably rewards a good starting position more than any other race, as basically the course is one big bottleneck. All this created a perfect storm for a biblical "slide." And slide I did...

I was three rows back, but I had the preferred right edge spot. On the gun we went off, and no crashes at first, but a Union Velo guy on a mountain bike chopped me not once, but twice in the first turns. Thanks. Further up, I tried to follow Soups, but on the big left-hander in the middle of the mess he "ran the cushion" instead of cutting across the inside, and this launched him two spots ahead. I made a mental note to try to remember which turn this berm-shooting worked for him on, so I could foolishly experiment with lines in the later laps. Anyway, all the way to the woods and no major mishaps. More than anything else, I was surprised by the lack of carnage and chaos. Maybe this up front stuff wasn't so bad after all.

Out of the woods and into the first chicane, Jeff Maclean announced to me from the sidelines that I was 17th. At the first switchback at the top of the pasture, I could see the head of the race coming back the other way. It's been a long time since I've been close enough to the front to have such a view in the tape maze. I held my spot for the most part, and ran the hill after the barriers, shouldering the bike. I got the mountain bike guy back, but some others worked their way by me. Lap one down. I don't remember much about lap two, except that I knew I was going hard. Gewilli tried to take me at the barriers with his deer legs, but there wasn't enough room there to complete a pass. Out of the woods Jeff M said "19th" -- the slide had already begun. Amazingly though, on the meadow switchback, the leaders were still exactly the same distance ahead as they'd been the lap prior. This was just confirmation that I'd gone out too hard...

At the end of the lap all I was thinking was "lap cards" but there were none. I snuck a peak at my watch and realized we were going to be going around four more times. I thought about the 10k that I'd entered for Sunday, and how I wanted to do well there, and how I was just doing this race for training, you know, to open up. Into the woods up the autobahn section, I did not take the next cog as I had on previous laps. Basically, I cracked. At least this made the race interesting. You see, I don't have the memory for every detail of a 45 minute race, but there was some passing going on. Some fast guys were working their way through from the back, but I had also recovered a few spots. There was a tall Benidorm guy I'd passed in a group with a few others, and they came back up to me when I slowed, passing me. Then the Benidorm guy slid out in the chicane coming by the top pit. I went right over his carbon wheel, but didn't lose too much momentum. Jeff declined to call out my placing that lap, so I knew the news was grim. Or maybe I just didn't hear him due to the excitement of negotiating the crash scene.

The lap cards indeed said "3" to go this time. I was wondering where was Frankie? He started in the back and had not passed me yet. On cue, he came by in the woods. Then John Mosher. Then some other 35+ fast guys who I don't know. I was now in full slide mode. Better news is I was passing a few guys who must have been sliding worse than me. Or maybe they were lapped. I suspect some of them were selfish assholes from the later races who were warming up on the course. It adds to the confusion. In the midst of this, I was caught by Rob Kramer (Ridley), who is one of my typical nemesis/victim types. Since I've been doing the 45+ and or the "B" masters, I haven't raced him much this year, but I always note where he finishes in the "A" race as that's most likely the neighborhood I'd be in if I had made that entry choice. Rob shadowed me to the low barriers and I elected to clip in and ride the hill to save energy. He ran by me, remounted and had me blocked. But it sure was easier than running. I rode his wheel for the next lap and we took the bell. I thought I had him, but then it was like he found another gear and he pulled out twenty meters. By this time Dave Belknap (frequent nemesis, rare victim, and not a man to stick his nose in the wind at the front of a group, ever) had run me down from behind and quickly and uncharacteristically came right through (I told you there was no drafting on this course). He went after Rob and I immediately realized I was on defense, with more riders lurking behind. Keith Button (Noreast) was either blown or mechanically compromised up ahead, so I went by him, then rode past a chain on the ground. On the last stretch before the log that poor guy was running to the finish, so I took a spot from him. No more changes before the finish and I wound up 22nd. With a starting spot anywhere from 11th to 15th (row 3) depending on how you look at it, this was quite a slide. There was plenty of racing and passing back and forth in there though, and Wrentham is fun. Good thing too, as taking this opportunity to race close to home two weeks in a row was surely going to compromise my efforts at the Canton Fall Classic 10k on Sunday. But that's another story. Thanks for reading.

The Missing Race Reports

Colin dutifully pointed out my slacking on the race reports. Mostly by design, you may have noticed I'm trying to steer the blog more toward photojournalism lately. It's the time of year when training protocol consists of lots of morning workouts, and the last thing I need to be doing is letting precious minutes tick away whilst purpling the prose over a pot of coffee. During the day I'm actually working, and at night, well, watching the World Series. Today I'll make and exception though, as with the thermometer showing 23 degrees outside right now, and a forecast destiny of 60, I'll let my run wait until lunch time.

So yeah, race reports. I skipped reporting on the NRT 5 miler in town here a few weeks back, but most of you don't care about running anyway. It went OK, at least I ran pretty even splits. There was talk of the course being long, but it's certified and that's supposed to mean 1% over, and I'm pretty sure it was right on. Then there was Gloucester. I only did Day 1, as on Sunday I raced the Pinnacle Challenge, and even reported on it. You already know about Gloucester. So Canton. We had a 45+ 3/4 race, but really this was a unique start for just 45+ riders, as only a handful opted for the longer 1/2/3 open masters. In the 3/4 I did the hang out at the start for twenty minutes to get a spot in the front row thing. The highlight of the day was standing there doing squat thrusts to keep warm and a two year old kid with a chrome helmet observes my actions and starts to do them too! Solobreak - role model.

Anyhow, at lineup, thankfully they sent the junior race, which we shared the course with, off a minute in front of us. Last year they started about thirty seconds behind us and it took all of a half lap for them to catch the tail end of our bottlenecked pack and start crashing us out all over the place. Bill Dolan told us laps were nine minutes and that we were doing forty-five so I figured for sure we'd get five laps. Oh yeah, before we start, some people include stuff like their pre-race meal, bowel movements, and bike prep in their race reports. I'll pass on the first two, but the bike stuff is important so I'll fill you in. I readied my steed by forgetting to install my Thudbuster ST seatpost, but remembering to NOT lube the chain. In cyclocross, weight of the bike is critical. Ever pick up a bottle of chain lube? I wasn't taking any chances.

The whistle went off and I sprinted for all I was worth and got blown off in the first three pedal strokes. Well that sucked. I hit the woods in about twelfth, still not bad considering we had sixty starters. I wiggled by a few riders, but wasn't as fast at the leaders and enough of a gap opened that my teammate Billy Casazza came around me. Now, BC isn't exactly known to be a man who takes strong turns into the wind, if you know what I mean, so I must have been looking pretty shaky for him to forego his usual wheelsucking. True to form, I fell back further, but I attribute this mostly to trying to follow the stupid lines of those in front of me rather than sticking to what I'd reconned during my pre-race warmup. To make a short story long, I had to chase grouppo Casazza for the entire second half of lap one to get back on. Refer to this picture by Zoo for a look at the gap from the leaders (the Cronoman et al), Billy, and me as we hit the runup on lap 1.

Once I caught Billy's group, which included Andy Durham (CCB), Jimmy English (Minuteman), and Mike Keough (Corner Cycle, and father of about 25 elite juniors, Billy attacked and I sat on. The lead group pulled away into the distance. During laps two and three Billy and I jumped up rider to rider and while others either fell off the pace or fell off their bikes. Through attrition like this we might have made up a few more spots. Then suddenly we had one to go! Short race. English was still lurking very close behind, so I went all out to get a last lap workout in, just in case he was hiding a surge. Billy and I put on a sprint for eighth show for the crowd, and of course I beat him handily. The rest of the day was spent spectating, as going for a road ride in the cold wind lacked appeal. Dinner with Brucie and his wife highlighted the evening, though the Sox ended up losing.

So there you have it Results Boy. Now while I have all your attention, as promised earlier in the week, I'm working diligently on expansion of my old cyclocross photos display. Well, maybe not so diligently, and it's nowhere near done, but since I promised "soon," here is the first installment. Thanks for reading.

It's not whether you win or lose

It's how ripped your legs look in the pictures!

The guy has got some definition in his legs eh? Click pic to go to the photog's flickr page. Thanks for reading.

Mad Props - Frankie

Frank McCormack powers up the hill at the 1991 CX Nationals

It was great to see Frankie win Sunday at Canton. These days everyone knows his brother Mark, but if you've been around more than a few years, you remember when Frankie was the man on the local racing scene. Very, very few domestic riders ever went head to head with Armstrong and came out on top, but Frank was one of them, slaying all at hard-man races like the Thrift Drug Classic in Pittsburg. Few sights in racing were as impressive as a Frankie attack in his trademark gigantic gear, powering rivals right off his wheel. Most of you probably know that his pro career ended after he collided with a roadside obstacle while defending his title in the Tour of Japan, sustaining serious internal injuries.

Here's hoping we see Frankie back out at more masters races in the future.

Flatbed Blues

Since my computer museum didn't have enough shit in it already, twenty bucks scored me a USB flatbed scanner off the classifieds at work. There goes my excuse for not expanding and updating my vintage cross photos page over on the home site. Be patient, this is tedious stuff. Above we have just a teaser of your hero, 1989, Wompatuck State Park. Note the BRC kit, DEVO helmet, drop-barred Rockhopper with 26 inch skinnies, and toeclips. Much more to come, I promise. Soon. Thanks for reading.

Big Rock

Image courtesy Team-Pinnacle.org

The trail run at the Pinnacle Challenge doesn't just include a second ascent of the ski jump; you have to scramble over this monster rock too. I'd post the mtb picture as well, but my fingers are on the brakes, so I'll leave it up to you to find it and do your worst. Speaking of brakes, after Gloucester I have big scabs on the insides of each thumb. Must be some weird abrasion from the brake hoods? Thanks for reading.

Sneakers match the kit

Image courtesy Mark Suprenant

To tell you the truth, I didn't notice it until Hup Matt pointed it out... Even then it took me two days to realize what he was talking about. The front is the old style Michelin Mud, wider than the new ones. Worked well. The rear is an IRD Crossfire. Great tread for grass, but the cross section of this 700x32 tire isn't as large as the Mud, and it needs to be inflated pretty firmly to avoid pinching. For this course these were fine except for in the popular photo op spot depicted here (I like this angle with the full lower half of the course in it much better than most I've seen). The entire section behind the backstop was pretty bumpy, and you needed to put the power down there, so soft tires would have been an advantage. I must say though, I'm quite humored by riders way, way back at the dull end of the pack debating the merits of $150 tubulars over clinchers. If you look at the top 10 riders in the master's race, all of them are outstanding time trialists on the road. It's not like they were making all the time on you in the corners... Thanks for reading.

Who needs practice?

Image courtesy Dave Loszewski

Ok, so I'm caught on the tops. And truth be told, I did not win many style points on the awkward reverse-S uphill barrier obstacle at Gloucester. From the looks of the many, many photos floating around, neither did too many other people. I don't think I used the same technique twice. FWIW, the one time I dismounted early and shouldered the bike did seem the fastest. Thanks for reading.

Highlights and Lowlights - Part 2 - Pinnacle Challenge

Lowlight: I had to leave home even earlier than I did on Saturday.

Highlight: I took the new car this time, so I had heat.

Lowlight: Nearly three hours to get there, due to a few pit stops.

Highlight: It didn't matter, as it's too chilly to warm up anyway, so no point in arriving early.

Pre-race highlights: I'm assigned race number "2" - Nearly exclusive use of heated private faculty bathroom. Temps warm nicely as race time approaches.

Pre-race lowlights: No time to preview any of the MTB course. Low number yields a spot in the first transition rack, and it ends up being blocked by spectators and team entries meandering around where they shouldn't be.

Leg one, 5 mile "road" race

Lowlights: Start is on lumpy grass, with an off-camber turn onto a wooden bridge. This leads across more lumpy grass, with a run up to the rail trail. Footing is quite soft for the first mile. Locals on 4-wheel ATVs humor themselves by blasting through the pack of runners. Welcome to New Hampshire. No mile markers.

Highlights: Course must be short. My plan was to run this easy, taking 34 minutes, saving strength for later. I keep my HR between 150-154, and I'm breathing much easier than those around me. I finish the run in under 31 minutes.

More lowlights: I finish the run in under 31 minutes. Perhaps my HR was just low because I raced at my limit in Gloucester yesterday, and I was a lot closer to threshold than it seemed. More importantly, despite a suspiciously short course, the run should be approached as a six miler, as 300 meters out of transition you need to dismount and run up the friggin' ski jump before the start of the rideable singletrack climb.

Leg two, 6 mile MTB

This is all Lowlights:

This was my worst segment in 2006, the only prior time I've done the event. This year I vowed to prepare better, and to actually ride my mountain bike a few times in advance of race day. Maybe I'd even head up to Newport and ride the course. Maybe I'd get a new MTB... None of these things actually happened. I did buy new tires, and impeccably prepared my machine by wiping it off, tightening a few bolts, and pumping up the tires.

I wasn't feeling too good from the first pedal stroke. No charging across the field. Maybe the lack of warmup was hurting, maybe I ran too hard on leg one, maybe racing Gloucester had taken its toll, and maybe (certainly) all of the above. Making things worse, I ran the ski jump (yes, this is northern New Hampshire, and the high school has a ski jump out back) rather than take the wooden stairway. This may have been a mistake, as the footing was very loose and I struggled badly, even needing to stop part way up to regroup and avoid falling back down. Once at the top, I mounted (huh-huh) the bike, soldiering on, but soon found myself in the granny gear. I was sucking wind.

It probably should have been obvious this wasn't my day when riders began catching and passing me while I was still on the climb. While this may not be a "roadie" course, for the most part it's rideable/technical, as in not too tough to ride (in the dry anyway), but twisty and mogully enough where skills are required to ride it fast. I was cleaning almost everything, but there just wasn't much going on in the engine room.

By the first section of double-track I'd already been passed by four riders. I comforted myself by thinking I'd done a great run, and thus was closer to the front where the good athletes were. Besides, most of these people are on teams, not doing it solo. Then I lost my bottle of Gatorade trying to drink on a fast downhill section. The course sort of loops around the top of the hill. The organizer said he'd changed it and made it "easier" than last time. I don't remember it well enough to judge, but the new sections were rather technical. I was getting passed by everyone and their brother, and a few of their sisters too. That's right, girled on the singletrack. At least most of them were wearing the jerseys of the host club, and probably knew these trails well. This is a maintained mountain bike area, and this trail was fairly new. Eventually it led out to the older, more open trails that descended back to transition. I'd lost at least a dozen places, and as it turned out any hope of an age group podium, as even my geriatric rivals had ripped this in up to eight minutes less than I did.

Leg three, 13.75 mile road TT

Lowlight: As noted, people decided my transition rack was the place to hang out. I had to barrel through the crowd. In the confusion, I sat down to change my shoes before remembering that both bikes had the same pedals. Doh. I got up, drank some Gatorade from a spare bottle I'd left there, and took off, forgetting to take my inflator bag from the cage on the MTB.

Highlight: Despite my woes, all my transitions were among the fastest for solo entrants, with only a few athletes taking time from me. I'd put Yanktz on my Grid Excursions the night before, and this was fast.

Lowlight: I was still hurting on the road bike. My back and especially my hip flexors were sore as hell. This had to be Gloucester-related. Jumping the uphill barriers must have toasted my hip flexors.

More lowlights: I wasn't catching hardly anyone. This was especially disconcerting because in 2006 I blew by rider after rider.

Highlight: Upon reaching Loverin Hill, several riders appeared in the road. I passed both the women who'd girled me on the MTB. I think they were soloists.

More Highlights: I flew through all the corners. Finding a good rhythm near the end, I passed four or five more riders. I finished around two minutes faster than in 2006.

Lowlight: Since I hadn't hydrated much, and my body was super sore, I shut it down during the last mile to sit up, stretch, and drink a bottle of water. I found out later that a $$$ prize was offered for the fastest time of each split by solo riders. For the road TT, I ended up second, just 8 seconds behind overall winner Matt Boobar's split. Double Dohhh!

Leg four, 5k trail run

Highlight: This is the final leg! I took back six or seven spots on the overall.

Lowlights: Most of them were from teams. I felt like shit. Worst of all, I sort of forgot that you should totally empty the tank on the uphill portion of this run, as once you get to halfway it's literally all downhill. I was dieing, so I paced myself, and one guy passed me. He might have been a 50+, but it might have been for a podium, which would have meant a nice bottle of real maple syrup. Once I crested and started running downhill, of course I felt much better, and remembered the way I should have approached this.

More lowlights: Yanktz are not so great for downhill trail running. They are a bit too elastic, and the stress on the shoe is great enough that I lost support. This is a very gnarly run, and real adventure racing shoes would probably be appropriate.

Final highlight: I was not under pressure at the end of the run, and trotted in to just miss breaking 2:30. This was six minutes faster than 2006, with all legs faster except the final, which was 22 seconds slower. The MTB course has changed though, and both times I did this I was about 23 minutes behind overall winner Boobar.

Final lowlights: Man, was I wasted. Multi-sport is funny like that. It doesn't seem so bad when you're out there. Nothing like the hurl-inducing last lap at Gloucester. But once it's over you realize you've been racing fairly close to your limit, without any real break, for 2.5 hours. It's no surprise that most of the people who did well here look like MTB racing is their primary sport. That's fairly similar in the grueling aspect.

18th/52 for everyone, 8th/24 for solo entrants, 4th in age group. Thanks for reading.

Highlights and Lowlights

Creativity has been lacking lately, so I'm trying a new format for the weekend race report: Highlights and Lowlights. Sort of a "the good, the bad, and the ugly" except lacking any distinction between bad and ugly. After all, here at solobreak, it's all pretty ugly, right? We'll go in chronological order, beginning with Gloucester.



Lowlight: Any time you're crossing the Lenny too early to see the sunrise, things mustn't going so swell.



Highlight: Gloucester is such a big event, they added lanes to the highway just for the occasion.



Highlight: The obligatory Gloucester Harbor shot. Notice the weather was absolutely fucking glorious. You can even click this one for a higher-res version.

Lowlight: Despite the awesome weather, it was still chilly enough at 5:30 am to make riding in the Geo with no heat a bit unpleasant.

Highlight: I already found some Gloucester photos on flickr. There are many others of the elites too, but this is about me. These say "all rights reserved" (sheesh) but I'm linking to one anyway (thank you to D. McEwan for posting these. Please visit their Flickr page).



So the report. I was doing the 3/4 masters. While I've managed to avoid getting lapped in the "A" Masters the last few times I've raced, I haven't scored any stellar results either, and with a cx age of 48, you can hardly call me a 'bagger for doing the B's. Colin's handicapper had me at something like 8th for this event, but half the field were unrated too, so call it 16th. Optimistic as it turns out. BTW, do not confuse Colin R with Colin K, aka "The Belgian Strongman." Back to highlights and lowlights...

Highlight: I got to the event extremely early, snagging a prime parking spot. In fact, I completed two full warmup laps myself before doing a third with everyone's favorite military action figure, Eric Marro, aka "the Cronoman." You have to get up pretty damn early to get to a cx race before the Cronoman...

Highlight: Chatting with the aforementioned Belgian Strongman before the start of my race. I also got to catch up with Scotty, Garabed, and several others.

Lowlight: Watching Trackrich struggle with his f'd up bike during the Cat 4 race. He dropped his chain while in fourth place, right in front of my viewing spot. BTW Rich, only eleven riders passed you while you greased up your fingers. Unfortunately, the "supplements" Rich has been on must really work, as he snapped the chain like a twig with his bare fingers. Then he got to run a 5k to get his pit bike. I think going backwards would have been the better play. Not sure if this is a DQ or not, but what the hell?

Highlight: Decent starting spot in the middle of the field. Well wish visit from Gewill when they gave us 30 seconds to the start.

Lowlight: Parlayed my mid-pack starting spot into a mid-back-of-pack spot by the time we hit the seawall autobahn. Things got worse when a Bike Link guy did a spectacular high speed endo. He nearly became an extra for The Perfect Storm in a close encounter with the harbor. His bike, however, continued another 20 meters on its own, blocking the right side as well.

Highlight/Lowlight: This was not the only crash. Lucky for me, my intrepid competitors were hurling themselves to the ground in great numbers at every opportunity. By the end of the first lap, the Cronoman called out to me that I was in 35th, exactly where I started. At this point there were many other riders with apparently no sense of pace totally blown and wobbling around the course in their lowest gear, in a fashion normally reserved for the post-sprint end of the race. WTF? Oh well, easy spots to move up.

Highlight: I was moving up nicely.

Lowlight: Bobbled in the sand on the 3rd lap, and nearly blew getting back up to speed. It took me an entire lap to get back up to the guy I was about to overtake prior to f-ing things up. Worse, there was a group of about six riders just ahead of him ripe for the taking, but losing an entire lap's worth of forward progress did not help my cause.

Highlight: Getting back up there and taking a few more spots. I was racing hard with a guy who turned out to be the 55+ winner who had caught me from behind. At least it made me push myself hard at the end.

Lowlight: only 23rd/89 in the B field, 7th 45+.

Highlight: At least I'm not a 'bagger.

That's enough for now. Sunday was The Pinnacle Challenge. Short version teaser: Fetal Position. Thanks for reading.

Crumbs

Just in case the 52 of you who showed up yesterday come back today, here are a few images documenting my recent activity:


I practiced some cyclocross.


I tried to make a poor man's 29'er. Fit in the front was fine. Rear, no. Too bad, these ride very sweetly.


I played some golf with these guys.


It was an 80's theme.

Thanks for visiting.

Missing Person Report

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