Saturday morning it was pouring rain outside my windows. No, it wasn't cold, but I bagged out on Plymouth North just the same. Stayed in. Drank coffee. Accomplished a few things. Finally took my Macbook in to see what was wrong with it. Turns out the logic board was not fried as I'd thought. A new fan and a new HD will set me back slightly less than an extended warranty would have cost me had I elected to purchase one. Of course, my data is gone. Backup? Umm, maybe around here somewhere. Whatever, I've lived without it for the past three months, so it couldn't have been that important.
Sunday was a new day, and Plymouth South a new venue for me. It was still raining. I left late. Soon I discovered that route 44 is now a friggin' highway all the way to route 3. When did that happen? I'm usually on top of these things. This still may not have been the quickest way, but it got me there in time (barely) to do the 45+ race. At reg they were doing a second race discount, only $10, so I signed up for both the 45+ and the noontime 35+ for just $40, slightly more than a single Verge series entry. Doing two races generally doesn't work. I joked with the Link guys in the parking lot that I'd probably go too hard in the first "warmup" race, and then not have a good second race either. And that's exactly what happened.
There was no time for a course preview before the 45+. I rode about a quarter of the lap before lining up, so I went to the back of the ~30 riders assembled. I was DFL heading off the pavement. Had to run the first lap runup in traffic, no worries, I'm just warming up, right? Then we get into the field and about eight guys are going really slow with a gap in front of them. Sensing an opportunity to "move up" and having all of one minute of warmup in my legs now, I burn a match racing around all of them. Then I hit the sandy "runup." At this point in the day, it was still deep sand, and everyone was running. Passed a few more, then torqued around the soggy field and through the pits. After that more singletrack that I hadn't seen before, so I cooled it and held my place. Another hill, a small mud bog, a tiny hill, then the barriers before another soggy field slog through the pit. Quick singletrack downhill, then a short power climb back up to the paved start road.
If you are keeping score, this makes 4.5 short climbs, a mud bog, three soggy fields, and a paved road, totaling 9.5 "power sections" per lap, interwoven with extremely brief downhill/easy "recovery" areas. Normally my HR graphs in a cross race are a flat line, hitting 160 bpm and staying there until the end. Not this one. All bumpy. Average HR was only 154 but the race felt harder than most. Even hit 170 bpm at the end of my 45+ "warmup" race. That was dumb. Actually my execution for the entire race was dumb. By the end of the first lap the leaders were gone, and I still barely knew the course. If I'd been out for a good result in the 35+, I'd have soft-pedaled the power sections and just tried to dial in all the tricky parts. But noooooo. I had to stay ahead of the Woodsman (aka Dan Russell - Bike Link). Tom Stevens (Gearworks) was not too far ahead either, though I had no real hope of catching him. I even fell once. Then on the last lap, the next guy in front of me, with nobody within reach ahead of him, was clearly mailing it in, coasting a lot and looking over his shoulder to keep tabs on me. He had at least fifteen seconds to spare, and probably ample gas in the tank to hold me off if I got anywhere near him. But instead of doing the same thing, I went for it anyway, justifying my stupidity by considering the "training benefit" of going full gas even though I'm starting another race in just an hour. After all, part of the idea of doing the double was that I need to step it up if I'm going to make top 40 at nationals, right? So I buried myself for half a lap and finished five seconds behind the guy, in 11th. Five laps took 42 minutes and change. Curley (Gearworks) and Keven Callahan (Bike Link guy #2) took the top spots in just over 39 minutes.
I found the bike wash, hosed the bike, then bummed some chain lube off race announcer Paul Nixon, who was generously doling out the blogger love for Nega-Coach every time I limped through the start/finish. Then I changed kits, pinned numbers, drank some Gatorade, and talked to way too many people instead of riding a bit as I should have between races. The 35+ start came up quickly. I lined up in the second row this time, right next to Gewilli, aka "The Assassin." On the gun I had his wheel. Knowing the course, I should have been more aggressive, but I wasn't really, and I got knocked off again on the first hill, which had become a lot more greasy. Then I dismounted for the sandy hill, which by now had a groove cut in it and was rideable, and Willi was gone. Another mistake I'd made was putting more air in my Tufo front tire. When I got there in the morning, the thing was nearly flat, probably 20 psi, but lacking time, that's the way I rode it in the 45+. It was great, just a little squishy when sprinting on the pavement, so I gave it about six strokes (huh-huh) with the pump between races. That was five too many. Now I was bouncing all over the place on the second field. And my legs felt torched.
Yup, it took about a half a lap to realize that race #2 on the day would not be all I'd hoped for. My legs felt like, well, like I'd already done a race that day. Adding insult to fatigue, the course had changed quite a bit, and my knowledge/experience of racing earlier was of little value. But I continued just the same. I don't think I passed anyone. A few who'd had issues during the opening lap passed me. I saw Gewilli on the two-way by the pit and realized he must have had nearly a minute on me. He was flying. Coming through the start/finish after two laps the cards said four to go. FUCK! Are you shitting me? This is going to hurt. So I backed off a little, hoping that Willi and the others would go up in flames and come back to me late in the race. Then the next lap the cards said two to go? Wonder if they changed their minds, but I wasn't complaining. Back to hard intervals. Nobody to chase though. The first two climbs took a max effort just to get up, but they were short. The one before the mud bog and the last one were good power climbs, and I totally dug in for these. Ended the race in 15th, somehow over two minutes faster than the first race. That was weird, because other than the sandy runup the course felt like it had gotten heavier and slower. The 35+ really do go faster than the 45+, duh. Maybe I should do this more often. Maybe not.
Afterward I hosed down the bike again and congratulated Willi on his ride. He slayed it and got 11th, right behind the fast guys. Speaking of which, Sammy came by the car and said they were going out for a ride in the woods. I thought about it, but had already put on dry clothes while chatting with GCD, so I passed. Instead I swapped for file treads and rode over to Myles Standish on the road. To my surprise, new pavement! It ran all the way in on the old TT start, and up College Pond Road. Could the entire park have been repaved? Uh, no. Once you got to Circuit Road it was back to the old crap. Bummer. I rode the Charge Pond loop before limping back to the school, bagging over an hour of additional saddle time, bringing me close to three hours on the day. Sort of made up for my lazy Saturday. The big story were the intervals. (9.5 x 5 laps in the 45+) + (9.5 x 5 laps in the 35+) made for a grand total of 95 little sprint efforts over the course of the morning. No wonder I'm feeling so smoked. The end. Thanks for reading.
No comments:
Post a Comment