http://www.fedex.com/Tracking?tracknumbers=572205010000244&cntry_code=us&language=english&clienttype=ivother&
She’s en route!
So far the guesses have included:
Clues thus far:
Frame was made in a northern European country with great beer…not far from the city where Oksana and I had our first date…
Monday night should have been a rest day, but I couldn’t help myself. I just had to get out and spin around. The evening weather was just too nice.
The ride itself was nothing special just more or less a really mellow (i.e. 15mph) recovery tour on the DC surface streets. What it did do was give me time to take in the scenery and think about the procurement of a race frame.
As hinted at in the prior couple of posts, the lust for a race frame started this past weekend and has been dominating my thoughts for the past few days.
The Zurich, for all its comfort and simple elegance, is not a race machine. I found this out during last Saturday’s race finish after having sprinted the bejesus out of bike and body, taking special note of the major weaknesses in both. The body…..well, I just need to ride more and ride a little harder. The bike? There’s not much you can do to milk more performance out of a steel frame. If this were the 1980s and everyone was sprinting and climbing on a 19lb bike with boat loads of bottom bracket flex (I can hear chainring rub when I sprint), then I’d fit right in. Since this is 2009, I can’t help but feel as though I “need” a stiffer, lighter and racier frame. That being said, I still don’t regret parting with the Seven. It seems a little strange, since the Seven fits the criteria just mentioned, but the bike just wasn’t me. I don’t know if it was the aero downtube, the compact geometry, or the obnoxious paint job. It just wasn’t really me. I tried to really like it on account of how nice of a bike it was (the parts were certainly top shelf), but it just didn’t click. I guess you have to be a pretty obsessive cyclist to get to this level of bike ownership analysis, but I’m just rolling with it.
Ok, so where am I going with all this? What’s the point?
Well, I scored a new frame. It’s another eBay transaction and I’m putting it in the “good deal” column.
I had been leaning toward going mainstream, getting a bike that most common folk would recognize…..maybe a mid-level Cannondale or a Giant. I spent several hours on Saturday and Sunday, scouring auctions and classifieds, looking for something for a few hundred bucks. Something that I could just migrate my tired, worn out and trusty Ultegra onto. With our wedding approaching later this month, and thus knowing that cash is flowing out the door faster than in any prior point in my life….I know I can’t go all out building something up like I did with the Seven. I can’t be out buying carbon anything. So there was never really too much consideration for buying a bunch of high end parts. As such, I didn’t want to target a frame that had too much of a trendy, techy 2009 look. I needed something a bit more classic, with plenty of cachet, but something that wouldn’t look too underdressed in 2002-3 Ultegra. I also wanted something that could jive well with some modern accoutrements once the wedding is behind us and the cash flow situation improves. So what did I go with?
Well, I’m gonna leave it as a mystery until I can take some proper pictures and get going on the build.
Stay tuned for the full story, and frame pedigree will be revealed next week upon arrival.
You’re welcome to email me your guess in the meantime….
Wow, so after all my whining about my back on Friday….I had a great Friday, Saturday, Sunday’s worth of riding and racing.
As mysteriously as the back pain came, it just as mysteriously went away.
Friday night, sometime after I had composed the previous post, I slipped out for a ride with Jon S and CJ over at Hains Point, just to loosen up the legs for Saturday’s race. It was the perfect pace, just toodling around chatting, nothing extraordinary about the ride until the very end. For most of the ride, the sky was unusually dark and ominously cloudy, but sometimes a dark cloudy sky is just a dark cloudy sky and passes by harmlessly….so until it starts sprinkling, I don’t even think too much of it (except to always have a little ziploc baggie to stash my iphone in). Anyway, after peeling off from the other two guys and heading home, I noticed the wind started to pick up and I ended up with the craziest little tailwind heading from the 395 bridge along the Mt Vernon trail up toward the airport. As I was riding along effortlessly at 23-4mph, I looked over my shoulder and saw black and brown tornado-like clouds. I was clearly on the leading edge of the storm. It was just as though I was trying to outrun it. As I neared the airport, a jet slowly descended in to land (the bike path comes within 50 feet of the runway with only a little chain link fence in between, so the jets literally fly less than 100ft above your head when they land)….but, just he passed over my head, maybe 80-100ft up, his wings started rocking back and forth like crazy and seconds later, the pilot gunned the engines full on and pulled back hard up into the sky. It was actually pretty cool to see. Probably not for the passengers who probably felt like they were on a roller coaster ride…but it was cool for me. So after seeing this pilot respond to the storm that was pushing me home, I figured it’d be a matter of just a few minutes before I’d get blasted by hail and driving rain. I crossed my fingers and started hammering as much as I could….watching the dust blow around the bike path and the brown clouds bear down on Crystal City. I kept waiting for that first little pitter patter of drops before the merciless wind and sideways rain…..hoping I’d have just a minute more. I got within 100 meters of my building and felt those first few drops…..and after really gassing it to get in under the awning of my building…..the rain started to pour, and sure enough…an absolutely brutal maelstrom raged for the next 30 minutes. I looked out my apartment window at the tree limbs snapping and the crazy wind howling….so grateful I didn’t have s soaked bike to prep for the next day’s race.
So besides escaping Mom nature’s fury, I was also very very happy with the way my back felt on Friday. After being achy all day at work and feeling 90, I went for that ride and felt more like the [slightly less than] 30 year old I am. That gave me a lot of confidence for the following day’s race…..not so much in terms of fitness, but at least in terms of pain-free competition. I still found a reason to self medicate with a few Belgian ales before bedtime however….
….which of course meant that I woke up at 5am on Saturday extremely dehydrated and not all that enthused about the 2.5hr drive I had ahead of me. Its always those first 10 minutes out of bed that are the hardest. I can’t help but ask myself: why am I about to spend my Saturday morning in the car? Oh that’s right, I’m driving 200 miles each way so I can pay to ride my bike 25 miles…..that’s why. So I got in the car and made the tired drive up to Lancaster county. I have to say, I really dig the Lancaster area. Its basically like a mini-Belgium. Its got the same kind of rolling topography, epic farm field vistas (not the boring flat Indiana corn field vistas, but more the Belgian kind that rationalize my pilgrimages). To top it off, the sky was a perfect blue mixed with cumulonimbus clouds….the kind that would make for a great generic desktop wallpaper landscape. I also got the timing down. I wasn’t there 2 hours early and sitting around on my hands (like previous races), instead I was a perfect 1 hour early, just enough time to get my registration packet, chug some more water and coffee, and do my 30 minutes of warm-up on the trainer. I lined up at the start and realized that the field was unusually large for a Cat 5-Only race - there were nearly 50 of us. So right from the start, I knew it’d be a challenge to stay in a good position for the finish. With a strict center line rule, the entire race was a fight to stay mid-pack or better. There were 4, 6 mile laps with lots of twists and turns and a finish that opened up into 2 lanes for the last 1km.
The first two laps were pretty mellow and I tried as hard as possible to stay really really conservative. I saved as much energy as possible and tucked in behind people with the least sketchy bike handling. Mid-way through the 3rd lap, I started to work toward the front. I jumped on the outside and launched myself up to the top 5-6 guys and started to ride pretty aggressively to secure a spot in the top 10. Toward the end of the 3rd lap, 3 riders on a local team made a coordinated break and I jumped in with them. Being without any teammates, I figured if I just mooched off them and refused to do any work, it’d maybe get us caught earlier than if I pitched in, but I’d at least be toward the front of the peleton on the final lap when we’d most likely get caught. Well, we got caught pretty quickly going into the last lap, and so I was left fighting pretty hard for position in the last 3-4 miles of that lap. Just before the finish, about 1.5km out, there was a little hill that spread out the field on every lap…..every lap except the last one that is. I was really hoping that the hill would enable me (sitting somewhere around 15-20th wheel at that point) to jump on a strong rider’s wheel and leech myself a lead-out. On every other lap, it looked like that would be a perfectly viable strategy. Unfortunately, the field remained much too clustered for me shoot into a good position and instead, the top 20-25 riders (top half of the field) just went nuts into a totally chaotic and extended sprint about 1km out. Keep in mind that 1km is where folks like Cavendish and Pettachi start sprinting for the line….NOT Cat 5 racers. It was a really weird finish because nobody appeared to have coordinated anything with anyone else, on behalf of themselves or otherwise. It was just this long drawn out sprint with everyone for themselves from whatever position they were in after the hill about 1km out. So I sprinted my balls off and managed to move up to 11th place, totally fighting the wind, with presumably horrible form. If there were 2 or 3 riders working together well, they probably could have delivered the world’s worst Cat 5 sprinter to the line for the win. 95% of my team was busy running a Maryland race that our club sponsors and so wanted to race, this was my only last minute option - hence the lack of any team to coordinate with. So anyway, I can live with 11th out of 47-8 riders. Not my best day, but not my worst either. One thing is clear though. I really “need” to get a race bike if I’m to make this a regular thing. The Lemond, as money as it is on nice long training rides (i.e. super cushy and compliant), it felt like a wet noodle in the sprint on Saturday. It was the first time that I ran the bike through a 110% effort at peak power and it wasn’t pretty. Since Saturday, I have been poking around on eBay for a cheap used carbon or aluminum frame - something really basic, not a long term frame by any stretch…..I’m thinking a Fuji Team or something on that order. Just something to race the rest of 09 and maybe the spring of 2010. I’ll post up some possible frames this week, maybe tomorrow’s post
oh and yesterday was indeed Ride 126, and was pretty much just a recovery spin around D.C. Ok, enough blogging for now….more on the pending frame swap soon!
I might as well re-name the blog again….to something about perpetual aches, pains and injury. After splending plenty of time dwelling on my knee issues, I told myself I would limit bitching to intermittent posts…. Well, thats easier said than done, especially when you are sitting in your office chair with a back that feels about 100 years old.
Remember the villain in that cheesy Bruce Willis movie about superheroes “Unbreakable“….Samuel L Jackson’s character, the guy that is as fragile as glass (or something like that)….thats how I feel lately. Just when I thought I was heading down a path of moderation and balance, splitting my time between sessions at the climbing gym (upper body and core strength) and moderate road rides (aerobic fitness and lower body strength)…..I end up feeling like a cripple. This is the first time in my life that I’ve ever had “back pain,” and I now see what all the fuss is about. Its pretty much the most debilitating kind of pain you could have.
The good news here is that I think the source of my pain is muscular in nature, which means that I should feel better within a week or so. The weirdest thing is how it just randomly assaulted me almost a full 24 hours after my climbing session. After a pretty mellow night at the climbing gym on Tuesday, I found myself getting stiff in my office chair late Wednesday afternoon and by that night I was having trouble sleeping, struggling to find a pain-free posture in bed. Yesterday morning I was feeling even more pain left wondering what in the hell I had actually done to myself.
The timing of this is a bit ironic. After my great ride on Monday night, I got all stoked to do a few races before my Ukraine trip in late July. Then, not being able to contain my resurgent enthusiasm for competition, I registered for the Brownstown Road Race up in PA this coming Saturday. That was probably about 4 hours before I started to feel the stiffness…and the downhill spiral of pain that ensued.
So now I’m registered to race in what will probably be an accomplishment for me to even participate in. Last night, I got out on ride #123 to see exactly how bad my back would feel come Saturday. Interesting enough…..my body position on the bike is one of the few positions I’ve found where my back doesn’t feel like hell….more of a purgatory-like discomfort. Of course when I stand and pull back on the bars (i.e. to climb or sprint)…then I feel it. So the question is whether I can limit myself to as much mellow pack riding as possible, while still having a shot at a decent finish. We shall see.
In other news, the rider that inspired me to turn up my intensity on Monday’s ride….was rewarded by having his bike stolen that very night. What a disturbing coincidence it was for me to get an email on Tuesday morning from my team’s listserv, on behalf of some guy’s friend who it seems….was the very rider that I was trading pulls with on Monday night. The only reason I can be sure that its the same guy is on account of the detailed description below that matches my mental catalog of his setup….
Here’s the email:
Hey NCVC,
I’m forwarding this on behalf of a friend at GW who just had his Ridley
stolen. Please be on the lookout for the bike described below.
-Eric
—– Forwarded Message —-
*Sent:* Wednesday, June 24, 2009 12:49:07 AM
*Subject:* [gwcycling] Stolen Bike - Ridley Excalibur
Tonight my car was broken into and my bike stolen. This happened around
11:00pm on Tuesday June 23 in Crystal City.
Please be on the look out for the following bike description:
2008 Ridley Exaclibur Black and Gray Size Medium
Sram Red shifters (custom painted with blue accents)
EA70X tubular wheelset w/Green Vittoria Pave Tires 25mm
Sram Force derailleurs, Sram 1070 Cassette 11-26, Shimano Ultegra Chain
Campagnolo Chorus Carbon Compact Crankset Ultra-Torque, 175mm, 50-34t
White Fizik handlebar tape (left hand side dirtier than right)
White Fizik Aliante saddle carbon rails
EC90 Zero seatpost 29.4 w/shim to fit 31.6
Can you imagine having that setup disappear from your car? I’d be sick. I can only hope that he has homeowner’s insurance to cover the cost of a replacement.
Lastly, I’ll bring this post full circle and touch on the “lost rides” that didn’t get posted, and how the remainder of the season looks from my point of view.
Most of you realized pretty quickly after my Race #5 (the Baker’s Dozen) meltdown, that I had devolved into a (gasp) recreational rider and lost a lot of my mojo for posting about bikes or getting all hopped up on gear - hence the “lost rides”. Being far to vain to descend head long into a beer gut-double chin destiny, I got in the occasional ride, and joined a climbing gym to keep from getting too bummed out (somewhere in there was the sale of my Seven….more on that in the next post). I saw myself lose a lot of threshold fitness pretty quickly (and the science supports these personal observations….if you don’t train/race near/above threshold, your threshold naturally lowers). On the other hand, I still felt pretty good aerobically speaking, going out for 1-2 hour 18-22mph rides without much of a problem. The climbing gym was another story. The years of upper body neglect were shamefully evident (at least to me), when I found myself burning out after an hour or so and struggling to stay focused on progressing to more respectably challenging routes. So even as I contemplate a bigger mix of cycling and some increased focus on competition (I still want to get up to Cat 3 within the near future), I don’t see myself neglecting my upper body/core like I have in the past. Interesting enough, I think one of the reasons that my lower body is so often out of whack after lots of riding….is on account of horribly weak core muscles that provide my lower half minimal stabilization. This is something that a sports doctor mentioned years ago, and something that I plan to pay a lot more attention to. With normal core workouts being pretty boring, I’m hoping that climbing will be a far more interesting way to help balance out my body.
OK, so why the interest in riding more and getting back into [some] racing? What was wrong with the 1-2 rides a week? One contributing factor, and a funny one at that, is the “Presidential Fitness Challenge” program that some folks at work have setup. Beginning on June 15, some colleagues signed the company up for the Presidential Fitness Challenge, gave us all login IDs and formed a management team and a technology team, pitting us against each other over a 6 week period. Each team has the same number of employees (about 20) and we each earn points based on our activity level. If you’re not familiar with the Presidential Fitness Challenge, its the offspring of the high school testing that everyone remembers from their teen years (the mile, the pull ups, etc.). In our challenge, we log our activity and each employee accumulates points based on what type of activity they did, how intense it was, and how long they took part. So there’s no mile or pull ups, but rather a big long list of different sports and outdoor activities. Me being me, I got pretty fired up about this and took it upon myself to log 4-5 multi-hour rides in the first week to see where I’d stand within the company. The result? After the first week, I ended up with 6-7x the point total of the average participant, and scored more points than most of the technology group combined. Pretty hilarious. I consider the whole thing to be kinda silly and unscientific, but its nonetheless stoked a tiny competitive flame deep inside me, left smoldering after the Baker’s Dozen. This contest at work is obviously designed to promote health and well-being, to get people walking during lunch, etc. Its not intended to increase amateur athletes’ average training time from 8 hours to 12, but I’m just rolling with it anyway. The top three participants get a prize and being a greedy bastard, I’m going to dominate the contest and take the prize…..even if the prize is a $25 Applebee’s gift certificate, I can probably buy a few beers with it…..or stand in the Applebee’s parking lot and trade it for $20 cash.
Anyway, the most significant realization behind my refocusing on cycling, is that I’ll never (in absolute terms) enjoy, or be as good at any other sport as much as cycling (both road and mountain). The rock climbing scene has really taught me a lot about how hard it is to learn the skills and physical fitness that I quite often take for granted when it comes to bikes. I look around at other climbers and I feel ridiculously humbled at how novice I am and I get excited about the smallest little bit of progress I make, with very little of it coming naturally. On the bike however, everything feels extremely natural…..like a conversation with an old friend. Even though I’ve spent plenty of time in my teens and early 20s screwing around with different climbing disciplines, I never broke through the culture/skill barrier and became a “climber”. So even though I’ll never be pro, or even Cat 2 for that matter….the saddle is home.
Looking back on this prolific post makes me feel really f#$%ing neurotic……holy smokes.
Anyway, I said there’ll be pictures and there will be…..soon.
Upcoming topics:
Selling the Seven (no regrets!)
Bikes that I’m targeting for late 09 or early 2010 purchase
some random reviews
Ok, so I’m gonna skip all the explanations as to why I haven’t been blogging and cut right to tonight’s ride summary. I’ll do a longer post tomorrow when I’m more motivated. Right now, I just wanted to get back in the swing of things while I’m still stoked from the ride I just finished.
Soooooo, Tonight was supposed to be a chill 60 minute “recovery” ride….
didn’t happen.
A guy in a GWU kit flew past me on my second lap at Hains Point and I couldn’t stomach it.
I reeled him back in, and then found myself cranking out another 3 laps around Hains Point trading pulls with the guy (who was obviously really fit…maybe a Cat 2-3 rider). We were upper 20s the entire time, including about 25-26mph into the headwind on the exposed side. I almost barfed up the 1000kc meal I wolfed down immediately after getting home from work. It turns out that pork goyzas, dark chocolate, and milk do not mix well prior to a high intensity ride.
ok, tomorrow I promise to try and provide a recap of where the hell I’ve been for rides 106-121, discuss the bikes I’m scoping out as I plan my “comeback”, touch on some upcoming races and the silly President’s challenge competition at work.
So in lieu of the manifesto I had planned for this long overdue blog post, I figured I’d just wing it and crank out this less ambitious update instead.
My how quickly things change….
One month ago, I was shaving my legs and shopping for carbon tubular race wheels. As of Tuesday morning, I found myself shipping my pimped out Seven race bike to its new owner in Tulsa, OK. I’d like to say that the proceeds will go toward something equally glamorous, but I’m afraid the cash will probably just get lost in the wedding spending spree we’ve been on.
So how did all this come to pass?
Well, in a nutshell I’m simply burnt out on battling chronic injury. I’ll be the first to admit that I absolutely did not do everything (i.e. physical therapy type sh*t, stretching, etc.) I should have over this past winter off-season to prevent the types of overuse injuries I’m prone too, yet I did more than I’ve ever done in the past, and it still wasn’t enough. Everyone that knows me as a cyclist or runner knows that I’ve been bitching about my knees off and on for years now. The strange thing about my knees is that they feel great under 99% of the conditions I subject them to. If you read some of the posts where I’m complaining about knee problems, you’d think I was an arthritic 55 yr old. Yet, that’s exactly the issue that confounds me….I’m only experiencing issues after a certain threshold of use. Unfortunately in cycling terms, that threshold is actually pretty low. Even though I went out and fought pretty hard in a few races this spring, I did so with a mere handful of base mile rides lasting more than 2 hours during the preceding months. Did I end up with an IT band (not even convinced that’s 100% the issue) because I didn’t log more long rides? Or did riding those longer 2, or 2.5 hour rides over the winter aggravate an underlying condition in the first place? The bottom line is that I’m just sick of troubleshooting the situation, and sick of dwelling on it. Its very frustrating as a cyclist to be worried about injuring yourself when riding for more than 2 hours a pop…
The final straw came almost a month ago at the Baker’s Dozen race in Leesburg. I would have written up a race review several weeks ago, but the fact of the matter is that it was a pretty demoralizing race for me. The weather was absolutely beautiful, and a bunch of friends were congregating among bikes, piles of junk food, and countless beers for the entire day. So what could tarnish that? Well, when big chubby guys with beer bellies resting on their top tubes are cranking out night laps while yours truly, (on account of the knee situation described above) is really only capable of drinking beers and trying to feel good about riding 4 laps…that’s what. Thankfully, having a bunch of good friends sitting around drinking beers pretty much makes 95% of life’s problems disappear, so the race was ultimately worth every penny of the $80 fee just to spend a Saturday immersed in that scene.
Following the race, my wimpy little knee felt like a$$ for a solid week. Had the pain dissipated after some NSAIDs, icing, and a few days’ rest, then my mindset might have taken a different trajectory. Yet, here I am today, having joined a climbing gym last week, having sold the Seven, and currently staring down a boat load of wedding planning tasks. Suffice it to say that my road “season” is over. I still have the Lemond with a fresh set of Conti 25s that I plan to log some miles on. I also really want to max out the Walt and give her the attention she deserves. That being said, I managed to get out on my first post Baker’s Dozen ride at Rosaryville on Sunday and it felt great. I logged a nice mellow 2 laps (~18 miles) with CJ to keep me company and it reminded me of how much I miss the casual mountain bike ride. So it’s back to the basics across the board and hopefully quite a few chill mountain bike rides to break-in the Walt Works.
I’ve got a few additional mountain rides to post up in the coming days…still trying to get back into the swing of things here…stay tuned.
So here I am waiting for my race to start (I got here early, just after 8am…too early to start my warm up so I’m giving the iphone blogging experience a try). I can tell you that the weather is a bitch. It’s probably in the upper 40s and a steady rain is coming down hard. I’m ultra thankful that there aren’t any dirt or gravel sections this week, that’s for damn sure…. Really hoping there aren’t too many bike-handling deficient bozos in the field today, the last thing I need is a bad crash.
I’ll update again, post-race.
_______________________________________________
Post-Race update here we go:
The good news is that there were no crashes and really not even any noticeable close-calls within a large field of riders competing in horrible conditions.
Here’s how it went down.
Just like the “Millport Road Race” (Race #2) located just a few miles away (also in Lancaster county PA) the “Mount Joy Road Race” was a scenic Amish country route. A relatively short race of 24 miles, we had 4 laps of the 6 mile course. The course was actually pretty solid. Definitely a “power” course where you had some “climbs” but nothing that a strong all-arounder, or even a decently fit sprinter couldn’t power up without risk of being dropped by the small guys. So for me being somewhere in the middle between a beefy sprinter and a spindly climber…..it worked out well.
The start was pretty brutal, not the start itself even, but the waiting for the start. I was sitting in my car as long as possible to avoid the rain until about 30 minutes prior to the scheduled start, at which point I did a mini-warm up and then lined up. Just like 2 weeks ago (same race organizers) the start was massively delayed and everyone who had warmed up, quickly cooled down standing in the 40 degree rain waiting an extra 20 minutes beyond the scheduled push-off. So there I am with everyone else absolutely miserably cold, soaking wet before the race even began. Once we finally got going I settled into a bit of a groove, and managed to stay up near the front of the 47 rider peleton. The usual comfort of the peleton was offset by some nasty road spray coming up off the fertilizer-horse dung-salt encrusted farm roads……pretty much straight into my face and mouth. Yum. The more you hugged the wheel of the guy in front of you the more you tasted Lancaster.
So at the start, I had been pretty chatty with some other guys, one in particular on a large team from norther MD (Kelly Benefits) [random segway: I joined a team 2 weeks ago, National Capitol Velo Club and don't recall blogging about that....so more on that later]. Not having seen any other teammates at that point, I chatted with this dude (who I determined was a strong rider) and hashed out a theoretical plan based on his knowledge of the course. He suggested forming a breakaway toward the end of the 2nd to last lap on one of the climbs that would typically bog down the field a bit.
So there we were, midway through the race with nobody really challenging the field. Then “Levi” (good cycling name to have I guess) pulled out ahead on the very climb he mentioned at the start. I was probably 4th back at that point and saw him going for it….and just didn’t have the motivation to jump in with him (bad move Dan). So Levi peeled off the front and established about a 20-30 second gap. Then going into the last lap I decided to help reel him in and lead a chase group, which would ultimately be my “lesson of the day”.
I launched to the front on a long downhill stretch and really dropped the hammer. I was powering along in the low-mid 30s down in the drops with a handful of other guys right with me. We traded places a few times and I rested a bit before taking my turn on a long false flat section. In retrospect I was working with riders that were not pulling their weight and I suffered for it. I think part of the problem was the relative inexperience of us all, in that we never really had an organized approach and never really established a rhythm. I allowed myself to hang out front way too long, blew up and had to fall back 5-6 spots and rest up. I knew that going into the last lap I wouldn’t have much time to recover before the finish….which would suck given it was looking more and more like a field sprint where I’d need all juice I could get.
So midway through the last lap, Levi seemed to be maintaining somewhat of a gap, but people at the front of the peleton (including myself) started getting antsy about catching him and picked up the pace. The last kilometer or so was devoid of any hard turns and was a long flowing approach to the finish. By the time we closed in below ~1.5k out, about 10 of us were cranking pretty hard up front. Then with <1000m to go Levi was well within reach and was clearly fading a bit. With <400m to go, the sprint ramped up and I pulled out along the outside and moved up as hard as possible, but my legs were definitely not 100%. I felt like I should have been sprinting past some of the guys that were hanging right with me - but I just didn’t have it. We swallowed Levi at the line where I came in right behind him at 6th.
Now when I think back to the way things panned out… I absolutely should have jumped up with him on the initial breakaway. Assuming everything else being equal, we would have almost certainly gone 1-2. Instead, we went 5-6. I can’t complain too much about a 6th place finish out of nearly 50 riders…so chalking up another one to “lessons learned” (I guess that’s what Cat 5 is for anyway)
Now apart from the usual, “next time I’ll do x, y, z” I realize how physically vulnerable I am to cold rain. By the end of the race I could barely speak. My facial muscles were essentially numb. My shoes covers were sopping wet, having collected the rain from my ankles on down. My entire kit was functioning as the worst wet-suit in the world….wet indeed, but lacking the warmth part. I was miserable. Rolling back to the car, I couldn’t stop violently shivering and my head started to pound. I jumped into the backseat of my car, pounded some water and some ibuprofen and did everything I could to get warm. I don’t think I was functional for almost an hour later (with the car’s heat blasting).
I look back to all the ballsy backwoods winter solo adventures I’ve had over the years, where I’ve gone out and done things foolishly unprepared and ultimately suffering extreme cold and discomfort….and today tops them all. Its hard to wrap my head around how cold 40 degree rain can be.
Anyway, I’m dead tired (having got up at 5am to make the drive up to PA) so more on the NCVC team thing later.
Next week is a mountain race where I’ll have plenty of photos to post up after wards and the week after that I have confirmation that my photographer (aka Oksana) will be in attendance. So the next couple of races will be illustrated….hooray.
Random: I never remember to update the “150lb contest” results from early January, but I officially lost the contest (between me and my buddy Nick L to drop below 150) back in February. That being said, I’m now down around 149 each morning. Thats with a terrible diet right now….including beer and sausage on a semi-nightly basis. Sweet.
Ok, for starters, I apologize for both the lack of pictures and the bitterness that follows….but here you have it. I’m continuing with the focus on the more interesting race write-ups on the weekends and just including the rides in between without any unnecessary detail. If you’re interested in my training data, let me know and I’ll send you the Sigma files ;-0
Many of you have already heard the first person account of yesterday’s mini-drama, but for everyone else I’ll relay the following saga.
I was really pscyhed to race yesterday. The course was touted as an “instant classic” by the race organizers. A 29 mile road race with 2 laps of 14 miles and change (a little longer than advertised, but a great course). The “classic” part relates to the name of the event, the “Fawn Grove Roubaix”. Roubaix is an often used homage to the French classic Paris-Roubaix, one of the hardest single day races in all of cycling history. Its a hellish race spanning ancient mud-slicked cobblestone roads, what in fact make it so great (for those of you who call yourselves cyclists but are unfamiliar ;-0). So instead of cobblestones and mud, our race had an equal portion of dirt roads, rock and dust. Instead of the French countryside, we were treated to an equally beautiful tour through southern Pennsylvania farm country. I don’t say that sarcastically either. It was a really pretty area of southern Lancaster county – an area that I’ll be seeing a ton of this spring given the 4 or 5 races I have planned up there between now and June. There was about 1200 feet of climbing per lap, and it wasn’t the false flat variety either. We had some really nice power climbs to separate the pack right from the beginning. I went out of my way to make special gear adaptations for this “instant classic” as well. We were told to bring heavy tubes, tires and wheels. So not wanting to risk my EA90s and pristine DA drivetrain on the Seven, I opted to mount up some bomber Conti GatorSkin Ultra 25s with some thicker tubes to play it safe and hopefully avoid any flats. I figured my heavy Bontrager training wheels would suck on the climbs, but would stand up to the abuse of the dirt roads just fine. So the stage was set for an awesome day of racing….Right?
Well, here’s how the race went down.
It was a neutral start, where we were led out by a motorcycle and car onto a paved road before they honked the horn signaling a pretty uneventful start. The first couple minutes were on chip and seal farm road. I quickly found myself near the back of a 60+ rider Cat 4/5 peleton given my late arrival to the starting area and some initial inattentiveness. I hadn’t pre-ridden the course, but I knew based on some start-line conversation that the first gravel/dirt road section was not even 2 miles in. I also knew that I wanted to be toward the front for that asphalt to gravel transition. I managed to make my way into the middle of the pack just before the transition. Sure enough, a rider just a few spaces up from me when down hard right as we made the turn on the dirt road. I just barely managed to slip around the traffic jam and jump in with about 20 guys that started hammering down the next section. A mile or two farther up the road, we hit a surprisingly long and steep climb. Everybody was dropping gears and crawling up the hill right from the beginning. I wasn’t gonna have any of it. I powered up the dusty gravel (think fireroad) climb in 39×21 and went from 20 something position to 3rd. I found myself cresting the climb onto a smoothly paved road with a handful of other riders who quickly formed a break. I’m almost certain there were just 4 of us, but it’s a little fuzzy at this point. So while other folks are struggling up the climb, we seized the opportunity and proceeded to hammer down the high speed rollers. We were buzzing along in the low 30s when the road steepened into a fairly high speed descent. I looked down and saw upper 40s as we quickly approached a T intersection at the bottom of the hill. I was in 2nd position at this point and the rider in front of me was blowing into the turn too fast, but just barely managed to make a left turn onto another section of gravel. I was also coming into the turn way too hot, and didn’t quite make the turn…just barely managing to stay on the bike (so much for a caution sign for those of us that hadn’t pre-ridden). I tried to downshift and veer left when I realized my chain had popped off….about the same time at which I heard skidding behind me….immediately followed by the sounds of bike and rider making contact with the road. Ouch. I was already off to the left out of the way when my adrenaline spiked upon seeing the dude go down, followed by a couple other riders pass by both me (unclipped at this point) struggling with my chain…and the rider down on the road. In retrospect, I feel a little douche baggy for not having rushed to the aide of the dude having gone down behind me….but my immediate thoughts were “that’s what the race organizers/support car/ambulance are for,” and “what the hell am I gonna do anyway”? So I got my bike shifting again…and followed the other couple of guys who had just passed me (presumably the other couple that were with us in the breakaway that hadn’t crashed.
So right away we were slogging back up a long rolling ascent. I looked back several times and thought to myself “man, I wonder if the crash scene at the intersection is gonna hold up the rest of the field as they come down that descent” and “wow, I can’t see anybody coming up the hill….we’re putting on a nice gap”.
About a mile or so up at the top of the climb we hit a 3 way intersection as I catch the lead couple of guys. The lead rider pulls over to the side, stops, and is looking around when another dude says the obvious thing we’re all realizing after having just labored up a long ass climb with nobody behind us “I think we’re off the course”.
Talk about going from podium to pissed off in about 3 seconds. A glimmer of hope remained. Could the wreck and possibility of an ambulance at the T intersection have created enough of a delay for us to double-back and then catch the peleton? We cooked back down the hill in hopes of seeing some riders at the base of the descent. There was nothing. The fallen rider presumably was able to hop back on and ride off without much assistance because in the few minutes it took us to climb up the hill, realize we were off the course, and then double back….there wasn’t a hint of a problem. My first thought was to blame it on adrenaline fueled groupthink. We all pretty much acted as lemmings following one another off the cliff. How the hell did we blow this, I wondered. 2 of the other 4 guys faded out of the picture. At this point, I’m not sure if they just doubled back toward the start line (afterall, we were only about 5-6 miles into a 14 mile lap) or what, but as I continued onto the remainder of the course in hopes of maybe, just maybe catching the peleton, I found myself with just one other guy. We vented to one another about the snafu, and continually asked ourselves where the referees or signs were….especially at a T intersection at the base of such a dangerous descent. As we cruised through the remainder of the lap, “Andrew” and I managed to reel-in a random rider or two, mostly likely other folks that had fallen off the back for any number of reasons. One thing is for sure. The course, had I been in a better frame of mind (or in contention for a podium spot), would have been a lot of fun. The dirt road sections were really gnarly and loose, with much of the stone approaching golf ball size. From what little time I was able to judge my performance against the main field….I felt tremendously confident where others were getting pretty sketchy with the bike handling.
We finished the first lap and realized after speaking with the USA cycling representative at the start area, that if we wanted our race to count toward an Cat 4 upgrade, then we’d have to finish. Talk about sh*tty. There’s nothing worse than riding off the back. Whereas the pros have a team car to come scoop them up and take them back to get a massage, we were left to complete another lap by ourselves. We looked at it as just another training ride, but it was hard to overlook the snafu and the opportunity lost. After circling back around to the scene of the mishap on lap 1, we looked for the signage (or lack thereof). Sure enough, there was a small DARK GREEN sign with BLACK print, no larger than 10”x15” on the side of the road on a stake planted in some tall grass about 100 meter before the intersection saying “Go Right” or something to that effect. So unless you were scanning the side of the road for a camouflaged earth tone sign well before the turn (while you’re descending at 45mph), you were very likely to miss it.
Of course if I had pre-ridden the course, this would have been a non-issue. Yet in fairness to myself, I think that any course you’re paying money to compete on, should be 100% mindless. You should NEVER ever have to make a decision as to which way to turn. This isn’t adventure-racing after all. I’m obviously quite bitter about all this, and even more so the day after, now that I’ve checked the race results only to see that I handily beat the 2nd place guy by 5 spots in the previous week’s race. Despite our breakaway detour and subsequent 1.5 mile handicap, Andrew and I managed to finish 27/28 out of 60+ starters in the 4/5 race. So I can’t be too upset.
Another reality check came later in the day when I found out my friend Norman (guy in Brooklyn with the 953 IF) had broken his collar bone on a ride earlier that afternoon. So in contrast, my day was pretty darn good considering I walked away with my body intact. Get well soon Norman.
I’m hoping to fare a bit better this Saturday at the Union Grove road race, again up in Lancaster, PA. I’m not gonna “Babe Ruth it” and point to the podium, but I’ll be surprised to find myself out of the top 5. There should again be a large 60-70 rider field for this one.
Stay tuned.
Warning the following post is a bit out of date since it was written early last week and remained in draft mode. I didn’t want it to go to waste and thought this photos were pretty solid, so here you have it.
First, a bit of an off-topic sentiment: I’m starting to feel pretty bad for the Walt Works sitting in the corner of our apartment, utterly neglected since birth. The road racing bug has bitten me pretty hard lately and I’m left wondering how many mountain rides I’ll be able to sneak in considering nearly every weekend between now and July 25 (wedding day) is booked with a road event. But anyway….
As usual, I’ll gloss over the day to day training rides and just recap by saying that I really slacked off last week and only logged 2 rides between Sunday’s Race 1 and last Saturday’s Race 2. I probably had more ounces of wine that week than I rode miles…..(yeah, the Paulson training plan in effect). That’s all coming to an end though. The racing thing is taking hold.
Last Saturday (Race #2) up in Lancaster was SWEET. No I didn’t break away for a dominant victory, but I did walk away feeling like I had some of the best form in the Cat 4-5 peleton that day. Whereas the week prior, I found myself overly aggressive and not thinking through my strategy thoroughly enough, I did almost nothing BUT think about my strategy during the second race. Again being one of the 3-5 guys in the hills without any problem at all. The unfortunate thing about this race and I suspect many of the races that I’ll do, is that the hills are quite short and sweet, without any true “climbing”. The hunt is on for something with some vertical…
Ok, the race report.
The Millport Road Race, was actually more of a circuit, in that they had blocked off about 3 miles of Lancaster county (Floyd Landis’s family lives just a few miles from the course….a huge Amish area) and had us do 9 laps for about a 27 mile race on slightly rolling terrain. The weather gave the race a very Benelux vibe, with wet gray skies, a chilly spring breeze and uninterrupted horizons of rolling farmland. The area had seen a shitload of rain in the days before, so the roads were definitely puddle laden in places, with a mix of damp and dry pavement elsewhere. The only thing missing were the Napoleonic cobblestones (ok, maybe not the only thing missing…).
Oksana and I got up at the ass crack of dawn to roll out of Arlington at 6am so I could make my 10am start with plenty of time to warm up. The warm up turned out to be a moot point because they delayed the 10am start (after everyone was at the line) nearly 30 minutes. It was nipple popping cold standing out on a country road at 10am in damp 40 something degree weather….it was definitely a bit of a downer to be that cold at the start of a race. Here I am trying my hardest to look tough despite the discomfort:
Once we did finally get started, there wasn’t much messing around before the peleton jacked the pace up pretty high (30ish on the flats). The first couple laps were uneventful, with only some occasional sketchiness in the corners on the part of weaker bike-handlers. Then on lap 3, a bit of carnage. A junior rider (maybe a 19 yr old?) went down hard, along with 3-5 other riders immediately in front of me on one of the wet corners. I skidded to a stop (always a little dicey on a road bike, with 23s at 130psi no less) and busted out a brief trackstand before squirting out around the mess unharmed. Oksana put on her photojournalist hat and managed to snap a pic of the poor lad as he lay face down on the side of the road, with the ambulance on its way:
The next couple laps were much the same as the first few, with a bit more jockeying for position. I tried my best to remain cool and not become too overzealous as I saw the field break out a bit, with a good 30-40 riders ahead of me. I continually yo-yoed between the top 10-15 every time we encountered a hill, and then drifting back into the comforts of the the middle as we got cooking on the flats. It was pretty much exactly as I had planned it out in my head. Here’s a couple shots of the peleton:
Once the final lap came around, the intensity shot way up as expected. I tried to stay in the top 20 or so as best as possible but was getting a bit boxed out. The largest hill on the course about 2 miles in was my saving grace position wise, because it allowed me to shoot up toward the leaders. Lots of riders were indiscreetly setting up there attack (aggressively moving up, etc.) going into the last straight away before an S-turn, and then the 100 meter finish (checkout the course map here, and you can see the final turn). I jumped on the wheel of one of the more aggressive riders surging on the outside, and moved up along with him coming out of the final turn. As soon as my defacto leadout guy stood up to sprint, I surged out around him (pretty easily done after he had been leading me out for 200meters) on the outside and tried my best to make up some ground on the lead 3-4 riders over to the inside. They had too big of a jump though, and I came across the line with 6-7 other guys about a bike length behind the first 4 and about 30-40 meters ahead of the main field. After the race organizers reviewed the video, I was pleased to find out that I snagged 9th overall. I kept thinking to myself that if I had only had another 100meters….but then again, I’m sure the x number of guys behind me were thinking the same thing. Here’s the final sprint. You’ll notice me on the right side. Just after this photo was taken, I busted out along the left side of the sprint. Guy who is in the lead in this photo just barely held off the chase group. He had a great position coming out of the final turn.
It was a much better race than last week because the size of the field was so much larger, and my tactics were much better thought out, with only the execution needing some work. With the mooched leadout, I was able to sprint up to 38mph on the final stretch, compared to barely over 30mph the week before, both instances being flat with somewhat similar wind conditions.
All this excitement prompted me to immediately investigate my team options. I decided that I no longer wanted to show up as a scrappy “unattached” rider. I pinged NCVC (National Capitol Velo Club) and joined up after exchanging some emails with their membership guy. I attended the first team meeting of the season tonight, picked up my kit and got the full scoop on race reimbursement (they’ll pay race entries) and expected behavior. I’m planning on slowly jacking up my volume and doing a bit more PT to keep my knees in order. If all goes as planned, I should be able to jump up to Cat 4 by July or so. I’m guessing I’ll also jump in a few mtb races this summer as well, just to mix it up a bit. The Wednesday at Wakefield series should be pretty solid mid-week training before I head over to Ukraine.
Race day.
My foray into the road racing scene began on Sunday morning. After years of training on the road in one capacity or another (usually preparing for mountain bike race-season), I finally got myself to the start line for a legit road race.
My first impression? I had more fun in my first small town crit than I’ve had in 90% of the mountain races I’ve done (big and small) over the past few years. That being said, its really really hard to compare the two styles since they are just so different. Its also pretty hard to top 12/24hr mtn races where you have a team format….any race where you can hang out and drink beer during the race, well that’s just unbeatable.
I had gone out on a limb registering for a race located 3.5 hours from Arlington with a 9am start, so Oksana and I decided to just make a weekend of it so I could avoid the ridiculously early drive on Sunday morning. Instead we drove down to Virginia beach on Saturday morning, did the “walk on the beach” thing despite the abnormally low temperatures, and basically just hung out all day. We had some pretty solid seafood at a little grill on the beach Saturday night and then got to bed early in a hotel just 3 miles from the course in Suffolk, VA. I couldn’t help but feel slightly ridiculous for staying in a hotel for a Cat 5 crit…..but whatever.
I’d like to say that I wasn’t really that nervous, but I woke up before the alarm went off at 6:30 and had some serious butterflies going on. I suppose if I had a more casual approach to the race and didn’t expect to be at least a little bit competitive, I would have been able to relax. But for whatever reason, I was putting a lot of pressure on myself and didn’t enjoy my continental breakfast at all.
There were about 30 racers lining up at 9am, and it felt like a good number for how small the course was (about 1/2 mile). The race was only 45 minutes long, so it felt like the time was flying by. I had read so many posts on various forums about proper strategy and how to properly conserve energy and so forth, but despite all the info floating around in my head….I somehow found a way to justify chasing down several breakaways even though they were very early on and posted virtually no threat (no primes) on the small flat course. I was flying around the course with my face in the wind at 28mph and my heart rate absolutely jacked. Yeah, not so smart. After the second time sprinting out from the pack and making a spectacle of myself, I decided to play it cool and just hang back.
I was pleasantly surprised at how well the pack was navigating the corners. Even though the course was small, and there wasn’t much room to setup for the corners, the yo-yo effect was pretty minimal, even when I found myself toward the back. Most times I looked down at my computer, I was seeing mid 20s - even in the corners - so the pace was decent.
Here are a couple race shots:
The above is a stretch just after the finish where it would thin out a bit before the sharpest turn.
Notice the yellow dudes, they were on one of the teams that had 3-4 guys in the race, among several teams. Green guy is one of the 5-6 “fat frogs” racers (I gotta say I have to question the seat pack thing in a race, let alone a crit….wtf????)
Here’s another pic of me again, trying to look cool.
So, I watched the laps tick down, and when we were at 4, then 3, then 2, I started to move up behind one of the stronger guys paired up with one of his teammates.
We had already gone around damn near 40 times, so I had the turns really dialed by the time the last few laps started ticking down. I knew that with the minimal distance between the finish line and the last corner, it was gonna be key to be one of the first through that last turn.
That thinking was my undoing.
Before that last corner, I sprinted around the “Fat Frogs” riders (2 teammates I was drafting on the last lap) and went into the final turn in the lead. I had this really sweet surge of confidence that came about 11 seconds too soon. I actually thought to myself “holy shit, I have this thing locked up,” “no way they can carry the same kind of speed I just did through that corner”.
I was wrong.
Here I am about 20 meters from the finish line, you can see the fat frogs guy passing me on my left (I had some pretty shoddy sprint form as well)
I ended up taking 4th. The fact that 3 guys on local teams caught me at the line was no coincidence. I both, A) laid off the gas in my moment of self glory and B) had no chance of out sprinting the #2 fat frog that probably had 1/2 the distance in the wind that I did.
Anyway, I learned some pretty huge lessons, and have never been more excited for the next race (this Saturday in Lancaster, PA). Race report #2 to follow soon thereafter.