The Tour of Flanders was of course available for viewing via webcast this past Sunday, but I didn't watch it. All this year, I haven't done any long rides. By April of 2009, I'd already put in a few big days, but not this year. Getting worried, I decided it was important to do an all day ride, and what better way to celebrate the racing of the Ronde?
My plans got a little messed up when Saturday, after racing at Ninigret, I headed to Stedman's to meet up with Il Bruce before heading over to Mews for a few pints of Youngs. Who do I run into in the store but my former neighbor Markie Mark, doing his thing as the Shimano rep on the way home from his own Ninigret exploits. We discussed Sunday riding plans and like I said in the last post, I don't turn down opportunities to ride with Mark's brother Frankie, so I changed up my original plans to take advantage of the offer.
There's a little irony here. Mark is ten years younger than I am, but he's been riding just as long, and as we know at a much, much, much higher level than I ever got near. But even before he or Frankie signed with Team Saturn, about fifteen years ago Mark moved into my neighborhood upon getting married. At that time, I was working the evening shift at my old job. Mark was going to school while racing as a domestic pro on the various teams his old IME squad had morphed into (Saab, Bolla Wines). Since I was available for daytime riding, and we lived just a kilometer apart, we trained together often. I learned a lot from my young mentor during this time. Mark always emphasized that long rides should start out easy, with big efforts saved for the end, and not the other way around. After all, that's how long races play out, right? We'd sometimes only cover 32-34 miles in the first two hours, but things would pick up later, and any structured efforts he had planned would only come after four hours or so of "warm up." It's a strategy I've retained to this day, and it gets me through events like D2R2. Going out too hard and then slogging the latter half of a ride at a slower and slower pace is not only painful, but it's unproductive from a training standpoint. Yet I know a lot of good riders who still do this.
On Sunday though, it was a little chilly, and I did not leave my house on time to meet Mark. He now lives about 10 miles west of here, and that's the direction we were supposed to be heading to meet Frankie, who was coming the other way from out near Worcester. So I was hitting it pretty hard in an effort to get out there. I think Mark had left his house about the same time I left mine, so he would meet up with them first. I got just past Bellingham, almost 1:30 out, when I saw their train coming the other way, flying down a shallow descent. I'd already been going at more of a three hour pace, but when I turned around to catch on, it took about two minutes at ~500 watts to close the gap. There was a slight tailwind and as noted last week, we did not slow down for anything. I was just sitting on the whole time, but again, this was well above my normal effort level for the first half of an all day ride.
By the time we got back to Easton, I had 82k (51 miles) and 2:28 on the watch. Funny as it took me 1:27 or something to head out to meet them. Mark needed to head back so we bid the locomotive goodbye, turning west again, pretty much the way my ride had begun. At least it was back into the breeze. If I'd gone on toward Plymouth then I'd be finishing into it, uggh.
Mark went home and I headed north on 115 solo. Easter Sunday is a great day to ride as traffic was pretty light. Normally I avoid 115 as it is narrow and bumpy but this day I stayed on it all the way past Millis, then took a fork left toward Holliston. Eventually I looped back east, doing the reverse of the old Wednesday night Hagen smackdown ride. Out of water, I went up 27 in Sherborn in search of fluids, but everything was closed for the holiday. Eventually I found a gas station in South Natick on route 16. From there I went across through Wellesley, Needham, and Dover before heading back home through Medfield and Walpole. Around the five hour mark I was paying for my earlier efforts, fading quite a bit, but possibly maintaining enough effort to still call it "training." When I finally rolled in the driveway, I had 6:18 riding time, 192k (~118 miles).
News of Cancellara's win at the Ronde already filled my inbox. Much was made of his dropping Boonen while riding in the saddle, but my take on it was a little different. Now I only watched a three minute clip of "the move" but to me it looked like Cancellara was just clearly stronger, setting the pace up the first 2/3 of the climb. Then when it got to the steeper part near the top he let Boonen pull through. Whenever you are climbing with a stronger rival, beware of this move. Cancellara then goes to what looks like a super-easy gear. I don't know what he had on there, but you can see him sitting and spinning, but they're barely moving. Boonen dropped the pace when he was on the front, giving Fabian even more time to wind up his spring. Then near the top he just unwinds it and rides away.
Anyhow, I looked at the finish time. I think it was 6:24, for 262K! Unbelievable. That is 70k more than I rode in that same time. Over cobbles and climbs. That is why they call these things monuments. It is truly amazing what the Pro riders do. Think about that the next time you're calling so and so a shit bum because he finished 25th in the third group. I've never ridden 262k in one sitting in my entire life. Hell, that's a good week of training. On to Paris-Roubaix. Thanks for reading.
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