No Brainer

Even though "Wampatuck" is a road in the Blue Hills, versus "Wompatuck" where we have the race, of course I had to buy this. It's pretty good too. The brewery is a 200 meter sprint from my Mom's place. Thanks for reading.

Blame it on cyclocross

Where to begin? Since this is a bike racing blog, how about bike racing? You may have noticed that I haven't done much of it this month. Sure, I went to New Britain, even doubling up and doing both the 35+ and the 45+ events, but that was more of a team-bonding experience than a serious attempt at racing. My guys love New Britain, and I'd never even been to a race there, so I went to see what the fuss was about. Winning a $10 prime in the 45+ and a $50 prime in the 35+, subtracting $57 in entry fees my day ended $3 in the black. Man was it a struggle though, confirming what I'd learned at Wompatuck the Tuesday prior -- I'm far from my best. This fact has been obvious since before Killington, really even back at Sunapee and Sterling. Originally my "plan" was to do one of those "peak" things we hear so much about during the month of May, with Sunapee being the mythical "A" race. At least to the greatest extent to which I apply myself to these sorts of things. Back in March and April, the plan appeared to be going exceedingly well. Without even really trying hard, I was flying. The first two Ninigret races I felt like I had a motor in my seat tube. I was pretty lean. My pedaling felt better than it had in years. And I hadn't even begun to "build" with a big "block" (don't I sound all scientific?) of "specific work." Surely by May I would be untouchable. Not.

What went wrong? It should have been obvious, as I've watched and mocked others do the same thing season after season, but I guess there's still nothing like first hand experience when it comes to lesson-learning. Plain and simple, I peaked too early. Way too early. And I failed to recognize this, mostly because I did it without really training (on the bike) that much. And since I'm really not all that great of an athlete, my "peak" performance level wasn't all that high. Nevertheless, in hindsight, it was as nearly as high as it was going to get at this time. Like so many others before me, I mistook my condition as simply "having a good base," honestly assuming that now I could begin to get really focused and get way more fit even though I was feeling stronger and fitter in every way than I had in years.

The problem is, the body, especially one as old and decrepit as mine, can only adapt to so much so fast before it needs a break. I did not take much of one this past winter. The last good one I took was back in September. Then I started racing cross, albeit in my casual I don't really give a shit about this stuff manner. In the fall I was doing my usual bunch of running races too, and between that and all the cx races, well, that was a lot of intensity. I was backing in to some reasonable fitness, and that was before going to the west coast for two weeks of training and racing in early December. The end result was way better fitness than I'd ever planned on having in the dead of winter. Which would have been fine if running hadn't been bothering my hip, because there are some good running races beginning in January that I could have applied my fitness too. But since that was out, I went back to the west coast for another two weekends of cross racing. Remember, we're still in mid-January here.

When I got back, I took a "break" of maybe two weeks without doing much, but there might have been a few four hour snowshoe sessions in there, stuff like that. And I was enjoying the gym. A lot. The place I go to had moved into a new facility with some big "functional training" rooms where I could do anaerobic stuff like box jumps and hurling medicine balls at a heavy bag until I collapsed. It was fun. And it was hard. And it pushed my fitness without me ever touching a bike. But of course by now it was February, the winter was mild, and I was touching my bikes a bit by then. Not a lot of hours, but probably more focus than in years past. And I'd given up on running for the winter to allow my hip to stop annoying me. When I stop running, my cycling performance gets way better. Normally I try do this in the early summer. But we're still in March. Funny how this all seems so obvious now.

So April was good. I even won a mass-start USCF weekend race for the first time in over a decade. Not a big race, and not a dominant performance by any means (can you say flukey?) but the field was high quality. In the other early races, I did not feel under pressure like I usually do in the early season. All systems go. Then things began to unravel. The first indicator was low energy. My twice a week gonzo sessions at the gym were leaving me wasted the next day. At first I figured it would just take me a few weeks to get used to increasing my riding volume. Sure, I was adding stuff, and not taking away much, but that's why we call it a "build" right? And sure enough, if I took a day or two off, it might be followed by a bright spot, a super day on the bike. But not a super week. I got into a cycle of one or two great workouts followed by four days of WTF is wrong with me? And by now we were in the thick of road race season, with Turtle Pond, Sterling, Sunapee coming up. Turtle Pond did not go too badly, but I could tell I wasn't nearly as sharp as I was there last year. But this was planned as the end of a block, and I was sitting out the following week because my club was promoting the Merrimac race. That gave me about five days without training, merely driving up to Haverhill and working on race stuff until the wee hours. That's what's known in the trade as quality rest...

Obviously, this strategy did not work out too well. My May performance sucked. I thought maybe I wasn't eating enough, so I began to eat more. And train less. I stopped going to the gym completely, because I was too tired to make it work. The result was predictable: my fitness continued to slide, and my weight went up. And I eventually figured out what was going on. I struggled through Sunapee, but I knew going I wouldn't figure in the results. We went to Killington too, what the hell. June was planned all along as a break month. And here we are. And break I have. Other than New Britain and one Wompatuck, I haven't raced. I haven't really trained either. My bike hours are going to be down about 40% or more from May's total of 55 (I rarely go much more than that, and usually on a couple of months each season are over 50). My weight is the highest it's been in five years. I know we male bike racers obsess about our weight, but this is weird.

I don't have a lot of plans on the horizon either. The Workingman's is next month of course, but I expect to be working the event, not racing, unless the team comes up with a plan where I'm not needed. There are some other good events in July, like Hilltowns, and a 40k TT out at Battenkill. Normally I would try to get fit for the WMSR, then hold it through August where the Mt A TT (a favorite of mine) and the Bow RR await. Then there is D2R2 for fun, and the season is more or less a wrap. But Bow is not on the schedule this year, I fear a victim of being too hard for most salon riders, and the season migrating further into the spring. I'm still doing D2R2 (the REAL D2R2, not the 100k kiddie-meal), so that gives me something to train for. I even rode out to Purgatory yesterday, a bit over six hours total, so that's a start. I'd like to get at least two seven+ hour days in next month.

Was that worth waiting two weeks for? Does the story sound familiar? I could have used the much more fashionable "I suck because I only care about cyclocross" line that we hear from so many so often. That is pure bullshit, and not only in my case. Very, very few of the riders at the sharp end of the cross fields are specialists who don't race road. Don't kid yourself. The riders who make the races are good athletes all year, competitive in whatever it is they choose to do. I have been here before too, back before 90% of you ever heard of cyclocross, I was already finding out that it takes special care to manage two seasons of racing in one year. It was so long ago that I forgot the lesson. Hell, I can barely remember back as far as when I started writing this entry. I'm cutting myself some slack. mmmmmm, slack. Thanks for reading.

Friday Pro Tips

It's been over a week, but this is all I have time for.

1) Use disposable wipes to clean your bike. They're especially good for cleaning the chain. Your hands stay clean in the process. Household or auto parts store wipes are better, but baby butt wipes will do.

2) If you get a flat clincher out on the road and are stuck needing a tire lever, use your quick-release.

3) You can cook a baked potato or a sweet potato by microwaving it for about five minutes, then wrapping it in aluminum foil and letting it sit for a few more.

4) To thread a new cable through a frame with internal routing, use a spoke to fish the free end of the cable out.

5) Pin the last digit (left side, first for right side) of your number even with your last rib.

6) To avoid getting cat hair on your clothes, avoid cats and people who own cats.

7) Lip balm can be used on your neck when you forget sunscreen.

8) Real Estate newspapers from the vestibules of stores are great for windblock under the jersey if you get caught in the cold. Keep some in your car for chilly race mornings too.

9) Trainers make great repair stands.

10) If your bike starts creaking suddenly, try re-seating the front wheel in the fork.

Thanks for reading.

Back to the Beast

OK, let's finish up while I still vaguely remember the details. After the race on Saturday, I made dinner for the three of us. Anyone who knows me is now shaking their heads saying WTF? I'm not known as a cook, but I brought food, made everyone salads, cooked some sweet potatoes, toasted some rolls, and sent Billy outside to grill some burgers. I even brought biscottis and yogurt for dessert. And there was much rejoicing. Sunday our TT starts were not until late afternoon. And Armand had been eliminated from the stage race on the time cut, boo hiss. We spent the morning cleaning our road bikes up after Saturday. I showed the boys the easy way of using disposable household cleaner wipes and Billy was quite impressed.

I took my road bike out for a ride around Ludlow to make sure it would be ready for Monday. Everything was perfect, except the brakes were still all grabby even though the pads and rims were spotless. Whatever, good enough, so I took my TT bike in the car and parked at the Sunrise Mountain base lodge, which was the halfway point on the course. Nobody else was parked there, so I setup my trainer on a covered porch, and had a porto all to myself. I got in a decent warmup, interrupted a few times to make adjustments to my saddle. Before the Maine TT last week, I had raised my bars 2 cm, because I just could not pedal well the way they were. But now my position is a bit messed up and probably not all that aero, although I argued with Armand that I was just one of those people more comfortable with Armstrong-compact rather than Cancellara-flatback.

I was using my powertap wheel with a plastic cover. Armand loaned me a Cosmic front clincher. My TT bike is some no-name Taiwanese aluminum creation with flattened tubes, but no fancy faired rear wheel or anything like that. And it is pretty heavy, at least 10 kg total. I wouldn't be on the best equipment in the race, but I think it was far from the worst.

The ride to the start was downhill with a tailwind. The last few pros to go off were heading the opposite way on the course. I got to the start about five minutes ahead of time, and as you can see, looked like a total dork. Armand had convinced me that I had to push my helmet back, because I don't hold my head level when I ride. My chiropractor has been telling me that my neck is an inflexible piece of shit and I'm starting to believe her. I honestly never noticed until she pointed it out.

The race would be pure headwind. Bruce Diehl (Sunapee) started 30 seconds ahead of me. You can see him rolling off in the photo. He beat me last week in Maine, and that was the last I saw of him here too. Kurt Gustafsson (CRCA) was starting behind me. He is from NY and so I don't know him but I've seen his name in the results enough to know he can ride, so I wasn't sure if he was a threat to pass me. I started and felt pretty good. I was trying to hold back and keep a good cadence. My plan was to keep it under 300 watts for the first four minutes, then keep a lid on it until the rollers before the Skyship. But right away I felt pretty good even though I was seeing well over 300 most of the time. I wasn't going that fast though. The wind sucked. The course was marked with a 15k, 10k, and 5k to go signs, which was very nice. Not much to really say here. I rode as hard as I dared. The dry air got to me with all my mouth breathing, and I really wanted to drink. I knew I wasn't catching Bruce. I did catch another rider who must have started two ahead of me. Near the turn to River Road, I lost focus and thought we would be taking the little shortcut road, but it was not marked nor blocked, which messed me up but I just chugged up to the corner. That left me a little blown and it took me a second to get going again. At the line I emptied the tank but then found the line I was looking at was the 100m to go line so I gasped for the remaining distance. I had 27:38 on my watch, which turned out to be my official time. After turning around I saw Kurt right there, so I assumed he'd beat me but according to the results he was a few seconds behind me, so I guess 30 seconds passes quickly when you're seeing stars.

That is a slow-assed average speed of only about 37 kph though. My PT claims I averaged 318 watts, which would be a nice PR for me at this duration, but I'm having trouble believing it. The Cronoman got 295 and was only 2 seconds slower than me. In Maine we rode the same times and had the same wattages (we weigh the same and are the same height). I really don't know how I could have got that un-aero in one week. Not only that, but I came in friggin 28th! I know the field is stacked, but that was hard to take, and it makes me skeptical of this "record" wattage. On the other hand, I tend to do better in shorter TTs, so maybe I just suck.

The good news (and there is always good news here on solobreak, right?) was the road race on Monday was in the morning. And the weather was awesome. So I went back to my little camp at the Sunrise base lodge, cooled down, ate a banana, and did an hour or so of stretching and relaxing on the porch. Then the boys came by and reminded me that we hadn't driven the road course yet. And they didn't want to, so while they went home to make dinner, I set out on my own. Not without first stopping for a bag of chips, a gigantic brownie, and some chocolate milk. The course was pretty tame for much of it, heading up 100 and 107, but then it turned back toward Woodstock on a very scenic but hilly road that would be awesome for just a bike ride without all this racing crap. This led to Route 12 and then to a dirt road with a sculpture park on it, and eventually back to Route 4.

We had pot roast with potatoes and carrots for dinner. It took a while to be ready. I had to yell at the Cronoman for trying to eat all my breakfast food. He seemed to be starving; knowing him he figured that he did not earn the right to eat after only an 11 mile time trial. I was careful not to eat too much meat. I don't think the Cronoman ended up eating too much of anything before going home. He would pay for that the next day. The rest of us each had one beer. Monday morning I got to the race around 800 for an 850 start, but didn't warm up much. That had me a bit worried, as just three miles into the race we were going to climb Sherburne Pass, which is well over a mile of climbing, albeit probably only at 3-4% grade. We rolled out under perfect skies and weather. Two guys went at the gun but I did not see who they were. I saw Carl Reglar (Danbury Audi) go after them, and the three went up the road. Carl was second at Turtle Pond after a race-long break, so I knew this was serious. Until this year I'd never heard of the guy, but I talked with him after the race and he said though he hadn't raced in fifteen years, he was a former Canadian national team Cat 1. He has some class to come back at age 48 and start going in breaks after only a year or so back in the sport. I'd also find out later that the other two guys were KOM leader Bill Shattuck (Corner Cycle) and Randy Rusk (Arc-en-ciel).

Arc-en-Ciel would have some shit luck when one of their remaining guys broke his front derailleur cable while shifting into the big ring at the top of the pass, and another would flat out just a few miles later. Same guy had flatted Saturday too. They still had Todd Buckley and Dave Kellogg in the field, but with Corner and Arc having guys up the road, the pacemaking was left to OA/Cyclemania, who had the race leader and TT winner Fred Thomas, as well as several other strong guys. This kept the tempo reasonably high and even, and nothing else even attempted to get away. The "hot spot" sprint went uncontested, as there were already three guys away. The big mid race climb came right after that, and I moved to the front in anticipation of fireworks, but they never materialized either. The group moved up the steep climb at not much faster than conversational pace. We rolled down the gorgeous north road, past the KOM without any excitement. Then the course plunged down through the hamlet of Barnard onto route 12 and suddenly it was a race. Maybe OA got a split or something but we went up a shallow grade really fast and actually lost a few riders, including Billy. Just after that was a super long, fast descent, probably two full miles at 70+ kph.

Next up was the short dirt road section. We hit it and the Cronoman said "oh F*ck." I guess he had a bad patch and got popped. The descent was very civil. I went down in the back with Todd and when we got back out on route 4 things were slow so we chatted while I kept looking back for Eric. I did not see him so eventually I stopped looking but a kilometer or two later he came flying back on. Just in time too, as OA put Ron Bourgoin and Neil Fitch on the front for the next 25k to set the pace and take some of the 1:35 the break had back. The rest of us just formed a line and took a free ride all the way back to the mountain at 40kph. I ate a LOT of gel, preparing for what was to come. As Jonny already wrote, when those two guys sat up after a job well done, I think everyone in the field congratulated them for their work and sacrifice. It was quite an effort, and Ron gave up a top 10 on GC to save the race for his team mate.

We still did not have the break in sight. The East Mountain Road climb is 1100+ vertical feet in just 2.2 miles (same one I climbed in training two weeks ago, which took me 15 minutes at 318 watts). I moved up at the turn but as soon as we started climbing I got swarmed on both sides. Maybe I was too cautious, but it seemed to be taking me a bit of time to find my rhythm. Going through the hard right hand switchback where it starts to get really ugly, I counted 28 riders ahead of me, plus the three breakaways. From there the ascent does not relent until the KOM, but I recovered a bit. Sammy Morse (Corner Cycle) and Steve Roszko (Bikereg) came by me from behind and I started to pace off of them. Some riders ahead came back to us and and we formed a small grouppetto. I think Kellogg was in there too. We did the back and forth yo-yo of surge and suffer but eventually all crested the KOM close enough together to regroup for the rollers. This was a big mental boost and I think it helped us keep the tempo up through the condo village even though we were all obviously out of it as far as the major placings go.

Out onto the access road, I saw Armand with my camera, but he had it set video and this is what we got from that. Cut to the chase, I dragged my butt across the line in 25th, good for 21st overall on GC. Missed my goal of top 20. The Cronoman was out of gas at the base of the hill but he dragged himself across a few minutes later. Billy had got in a group and finished a minute or two after Eric. Reglar had stayed away to win, but Thomas was second and took the overall. Shattuck hung on for fourth and won the KOM prize. Randy got absorbed but still crossed the line just ahead of me and Sammy after a valiant race-long effort. I was impressed by the way the race was run and look forward to going back. It was kind of weird with no crit and I barely even saw the Pro race or any other race for that matter as we just showed up and headed out onto the course each day. I'm going to rebuild and refocus in June, maybe not race so much. I'll do an entry soon on how I messed up my training this year, and how I hope to learn from it. Thanks for reading.

The Beast is Back

Killington used to be the biggest stage race on the east coast. I don't remember any other five-day races. The courses were challenging, and the sprawling ski village was perfect for accommodating six hundred bike racers and their supporters. The race was on Labor Day weekend from 1987 up until around 1998. The last time I did it was 96, I think. Race expenses, primarily for police details, were way, way, into six figures and eventually the organizers decided to pull the plug. At that time mountain biking was booming on the ski mountain and it looked like that might be a better growth area for promoting summer tourism in the region.

Not too long after that, the Green Mountain Stage Race was created, filling the calendar void on the first weekend in September. That race has evolved steadily, and seems to be a success, but it still has not gotten as bike as Killington was. Maybe that's a good thing, because this year the GMSR promoter Gary Kessler, along with the Killingon resort management company and the Long Trail Brewery have brought back the KSR, this time as a three-day, three-stage event to bookend the summer on Memorial Day weekend. Only one of the courses, the "Pepsi" circuit race, remains as a holdover. The other two are new. A 17k point-to-point, very slightly but steadily uphill individual TT was featured Sunday, and a 100k queen stage over incredibly beautiful, but challenging Vermont hills was on tap for Monday. The stage would finish up East Mountain Road, which starts at the Skyeship Gondola on Route 4, climbing 1100 feet in just over two miles before turning into a series of big rollers through the condo village. That lead to the traditional KSR road stage finish on the access road to the base lodge, which climbs another few hundred feet at a steep pitch before the line. This stage finish would make the race fitting of the old "beast" nickname, despite only being three days now.

The planning and organization looked great, at least for the 40-49 masters. Our circuit race did not start until 1:35 on Saturday, so we did not even have to fight holiday traffic after work on Friday. Armand got us a house in nearby Ludlow, so me, him, the Cronoman, and Billy C headed up early Saturday morning. I wisely awarded weekend custody of the Cronoman to someone else though, as he likes to go to bed ridiculously early, and with racing on tap, I could not babysit my high-maintenance best friend all weekend. But of course we let him hang out and eat with us (except he doesn't eat enough of the right foods at the right times, more on that later).

Packet pickup was a breeze. We got to the circuit race venue just in time for it to start raining steadily, always a bonus with a dirt parking lot. At least it was not cold. The organizers had around twenty portajohns, a good sign. The race started on time, in the rain. This event was pre-reg only, so we got a good look at the start list on bikereg during the week. Only 68 riders were in the 40-49, but the field was STACKED with talent. In fact, I would not be surprised if over half the entrants had won races in the past few years. It was pretty incredible. And even though there were several guys "racing down" from the 50+ in order to keep their teams together, they were all good former race winners for sure, and at 49 I was feeling old in this one. But part of the reason I was here was to get acquainted with the new race in prep for next year, when I can race the 50+ (sorry younger team mates, but you're on your fucking own next year).

We would do three laps of the 30k circuit. It was the same as before, except for a slight change on the backside, where they briefly diverted us off route 100A and up around the back of the Calvin Coolidge homestead for the KOM sprints. The "climb" on that leg of the triangular course is long (around 5k) but not very steep, so this small kick was added to give the king/queen of the mountain competition a little meaning. The real dust on that would settle on Monday anyway, and for this stage only three places, 5-3-1 points were on offer each lap. I considered trying to ambush the field on the first sprint and steal some points, as getting this jersey on Saturday would probably be our only hope of actually taking anything home against this field. That plan went out the window when I found myself suffering just to hang on! Fuck, was I just blocked and not ready, or were these guys this fast? I felt like my brakes were rubbing. It did not help that the road as a little bumpy and in the rain it was more difficult to stay tight on a wheel. I was running my carbon wheels too, and the braking was awful, grabby and choppy. I think the back one needs to be re-tensioned, as this remained an issue for me all weekend, even in the dry.

So no KOM attempts for me. Soups did what I couldn't even think of doing, attacking and taking the first five points. The Cronoman hovered near the front, bouncing pesky friend and foe alike off his broad shoulders in order to keep a good position. Me and Billy were hanging grimly a ways back. Armand was with us too, for a while, but this was his first road race of the season (perhaps not a good choice) and with his decidedly non-climber build, he struggled to maintain the pace and got popped just before the KOM. This was bad, bad news as we still had 75k to go and A-man would be in for a long, difficult battle against Cuts-ville if he could not rejoin quickly.

Most of the riders in this field were top quality. The group was mostly very tight and poised. But there are a few misfits in every crowd. Coming out of the KOM some guy in front of me (not from a New England team) practically stopped at the gentle merge back onto 100A. I had to burn half a match sprinting around to get with the field before the bumpy, hair-raising plunge down into Plymouth Union and the tight turn onto 100 proper. Grrrr. Then somehow, probably due to my excess caution and shaky carbon-rim braking, the bozo managed to get back in front of me on the descent, and then get us gapped again coming out of the corner. Badly too. He takes about five pedal strokes and then fucking SITS UP and looks back for someone else to close the giant span he just opened. The field was drilling it too. Now I realize it's my own fault for being back there in the first place, but that did not do much to quell my anger, so I put on my best jump and track sprint. No fucking way I was towing this jackass back up. And it worked. He was G-O-N-E and not seen again all day.

Of course, not long afterward the field slowed a bit. The rain was stopping, the sun was coming out, and we were now riding through a sauna. Then Billy noticed his rear tire was losing air. He doesn't TT well and thus was not a GC guy, so waiting for him was not an option (and probably would have been suicide anyway). Besides, we had Armand back there someplace. So I coached him to summon the wheel van, and try to stop and get a quick change at the turn onto Route 4, where we would sort of slow down. He tried, but the field drilled it on the first half of Route 4 and he was not able to rejoin. And of course, after a few k we slowed down A LOT. Now we had two out of four in a battle against the cut. Life on B.O.B. I conferenced with the Cronoman up near the head of the race. He opined that the strong teams were neutralizing each other, and that he did not think anything stood a chance of getting away. And then he attacked. I just don't understand that man some (most) of the time...

The second time up the rise leg of the course I felt much better. Maybe we were going slower, or maybe I was coming around, or a little bit of both. I got up front but by now everyone knew where the KOM sprint was and the guys who got points in the first sprint were all serious and aggressive about it, so I took a pass. I banzaied the downhill this time to avoid burning matches again. The third lap ended up pretty slow, except for a sharp acceleration a kilometer or so before the KOM, where we went single file. The last time down the hill I had to brake and my pads grabbed, unicycling me off a bump and up onto the front wheel at 40 mph while the back locked up and started to come around. That was my day's excitement. The finish sprint is a mad downhill dash in your biggest gesr, and I just coasted in the crazy draft before pedaling the last 100 meters to make sure I crossed close enough to get S.T. One stage down.

Me and the Cronoman then did a cooldown ride to preview the last part of Sunday's TT. When we got back Armand and Billy were at the truck. We had finished in around 2:11 and Billy said he finished in a group of other flat victims at 2:21 so we knew he had made the cut easily. Armand had not caught him and looked disappointed. The cut would be 2:38 ish...

This boring narrative will have to be continued tomorrow. For a more concise report on how the weekend went at the front of the pack, go see Jonny's blog Thanks for reading.