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.

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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, a lot to catch up on…

first, a note on the title change.  I got an email from my friend Ian in response to the fat bus driver post and my cog analogy where he jokingly referred to me as the MVCIS.  I thought it sounded funny in a satirically self-deprecating sorta way, so I thought it’d be a good “post-300 to 30″ blog title to try on for size.

So onto the recap of the roller coaster week that has me ultra bummed out and cracking a beer(s) right now:

Last Wednesday was recovery from the Tuesday night’s 3 hour ride, and otherwise pretty uneventful.  I did the same old one hour spin into DC around Hains point and saw what was probably the gazillionth fox so far this year.  Honestly they are more populous than squirrels down on Hains Point.  I don’t know if the scent of my sometimes-a-little funky chamois is becoming familiar to them or what….but they seem to be getting bolder and stopping only a few meters away from me as I slow down and creep by them.  I’m still not entirely accustomed to regularly coming within spitting distance of these supposedly “wild” foxes on these night rides and so it weirds me out a bit.

Thursday was cold as hell outside and turned out to be a perfect gym workout day.  I’ve been trying to do more hip flexor and quad work to stabilize my knees a bit (and hopefully mitigate my IT band issues…so the gym work is a good thing right now)

Friday was a do-nothing-keep-my-feet-up-and-catch-up-on-my-drinking day.  I didn’t plan on it being a “cheat day” since I anticipated some dietary loosening during the NYC trip later in the weekend, but I ended up pouring myself a few fingers of scotch and one thing led to another…  I’m not sure if God was watching down on me and getting ready to punish me for my utter lack of discipline or not….but the rest of the weekend (from a training standpoint) was all downhill - despite being an awesome time.

Saturday was bad.  The forecast looked to be pretty brutal, and I knew I needed to log a good solid ride.  I suited up in my 25 degree riding outfit when I probably shoulda prepared for 15, caused thats about what it turned out to be.  I started off feeling ok, but not nearly as refreshed as I expected to feel.  I went out of my way to seek out some hills to avoid the wind and stay a bit warmer.  After snaking through Alexandria neighborhoods down south of Mt Vernon, I was about 20 or so miles from home when I realized that my feet were starting to get colder at an increasingly scary pace.  With the daylight fading, and my feet already completely numb, that’s when I decided to start heading home (dumb, I know).  I started back at about the same pace as I had gone out with…but my feet became so wood-like, I started to get concerned and jacked up the intensity a bit.  I started running through mental scenarios where I’d end up getting home to purple feet and tissue damage…and I actually kinda scared myself - I had really underestimated the cold.  I rode as hard as I could on the way back and was well into the 20s the entire way despite the variable winds and dropping temps.  This would have been all fine and dandy, getting in some unplanned high intensity training…but then my IT band started acting up.  It was totally demoralizing to feel the now very familiar pain in my left knee, but still not quite distracting enough to keep my mind from thinking about my poor feet.

By the time I rolled into my apartment building….I could barely walk.  I literally felt like a pirate with 2 peg legs.  I almost fell down inside the elevator, and then hobbled down the hall like an absolute gimp… I did something even more foolish once I got inside my apartment… In a hurry to warm up my feet….I tore off my shoes and immersed my scary ghost-white feet in hot water.  It felt kinda good at first…..and then, the man-tears were shed.  I was literally crippled with pain there on the side of the tub, still in my jacket, tights and helmet….my feet the source of unbelievable pain.  It was silly bad.  It felt like my toenails were being ripped out with pliers.  I honestly couldn’t believe how bad it was.  I’ve had super cold feet before and just allowed them to gradually warm on their own, or with the aid of a warm car vent or simple ambient room warmth.  The hot water thing….well, it goes in the never again category, thats for sure.  Obviously I felt like ass after this episode and decided to pound some wine at that night’s dinner party (my dietary restrictions were also suspended).   Fun was had.

No rest for the weary however.  After staying out til 2ish on Saturday, Oksana and I got going early on Sunday and drove up to NYC to spend the remainder of our weekend.  Not wanting to miss out on the chance to cruise around the city with my friend Norman (953 SSR guy), I threw my Lemond on the car and off we went.  By 2pm Norman and I were on the bikes cruising through Brooklyn.  As an aside, Norman’s bike, the “November bike” that I posted pics of a couple months ago….damn does it look better in person.  I’m 100% sold on the 953 concept now.

I’m also sold on NYC riding.  Its just a totally different world up there compared to DC (duh right?) with so much to take in.  We even found some pretty sweet kayaking to be had.

Compared to DC, the bike lanes are actually pretty abundant, if not disrespected.  We cruised over the Brooklyn Bridge, which was awesome.  If I wasn’t so blown away by the views of the city as we crested the bridge I probably woulda been a little more annoyed by the clueless tourists meandering in and out of the bike lanes…but in the end it was a treat.  Here we are just starting out on the Brooklyn side of the bridge, Norman on his pimp-ass bike:

I actually picked the most uninspiring spot on the bridge to take this shot - the city is obscured by the arc of the bridge at this low point - so here is some random dude on the bridge (seriously, no idea who he is), but you can see what the view looks like riding over the top.

Anyway, we cruised along the west side highway and up into central park.  The park is actually a pretty sweet little training loop.  I don’t recall exactly, but I think Norman said it was 6 miles - ideal to do some rolling training laps on.

The weather was less than ideal: a wet 30-34 degrees at the start and somewhere less than that at the end of the ride with some spitting snow and sleet to finish it off.  I think the excitement of riding someplace different made me care a lot less than I ordinarily would and the ride just kinda zipped right by.  Between the daylight fading, Norman’s feet freezing (bootyless in 30 degree wet weather I might add) and my knee getting worse by the mile, 30 miles turned out to be the perfect cutoff point before our Sunday night food & beer binge.  Norman and I started out with a quick post ride drink at one of his local favorites, “Beer Table,” before meeting up with Oksana for some recovery food and a night full of more deliciously hearty craft brews:

Its pretty safe to say that CO Nick has a leg up at this point in the 150lb contest.  The picture above kinda gives one a sense of what my state of mind was on Sunday night.  With the 70 wet and cold miles in the previous 48 hours, and a throbbing knee to show for it…..I started my downhill slide.  The 48 hours since Sunday night have included multiple decadent desserts, bagels w/ cream cheese, daily beers, an entire Pizza Hut pizza (size L), multiple chocolate bars (I think a bag of Skittles made its way in there somewhere), a cuban hot pressed sandwich and plate of fries, and other stuff I don’t remember.  Uhhh yeah, I gained back a couple pounds.  The coup de grâce?  Well, the fact that I can’t log any miles without pain right now is a HUGE demoralizer.  I’m back to the same Spring 2007 situation I found myself in when logging a few too many miles on the singlespeed.  I’d laugh off the disgusting food with some epic training rides this next week if it weren’t for the pain.  Now its back to a mixture of therapy and 100rpm low gear-short duration rides on the flats - pretty much the second fastest way to becoming much slower, only bested by pure couch time.

I hope alcohol has some anti-inflammatory properties.

ok, back to business…..I skipped a write up of Sunday’s ride which was just a recovery spin with CJ…..but last night (Ride #64), well….last night was a cold-as-shit 3 hours in the saddle.  My Niterider Tri-Newt light barely got me home.

Now that its regularly dipping down below 30 at night, I’ve had to ditch my jersey + baselayer hardass approach, and actually mix in a softshell layer.

What a difference a little Mountain Hardwear makes….damn.  It was upper 20s for most of the ride and the only body part thrashed by the cold were my feet.  I love you mysterious softshell material.

On another note, I must confess, I’ve started up a nasty little habit…

No, not black tar or china white….its the dreaded ear-buds-whilst-riding that I’m addicted to.  Now that my phone (which I’ve always thrown in a jersey pocket for emergency purposes) and music are so sweetly intertwined a la iphone…well, it was only a matter of time before I gave in and decided to plug in some headphones.  The best part is, when I get smoked by a car that I didn’t hear coming, I’ll be able to conveniently dial for help from the phone that’s playing some nice tunes in the background.

Honestly though, riding with music is pretty much the way to stay motivated when you’re out by yourself at 10pm on a weeknight in the pitch black winter cold, trying to convince yourself to keep going for another hour….

I’ve got a great bunch of mixes put together and I’m noticing that I’ll randomly get a shot of insipiration depending on how the shuffle on my iphone works out.  I was lollygagging along the other night when Prince’s “Fury” popped on….suddenly I felt a bit energized and ramped up my intensity a notch.

I know quite a few of you are probably thinking that I’ll just become another one of those douchebags that’s out riding around oblivious to his surroundings and a hazard to other trail users.  Well, I’m already a little bit of a douchebag, but I’m fighting to remain attentive as much as possible (win some, lose some)….

One last thing: It looks like the race for gauntness is heating up.  Colorado Nick is down to 158 or so (depending on whether he’s shat pre-weigh-in).  and I’m hovering around 152-4lbs.  Originally the wager was suggested to be $50, but I’m proposing that the winner receives an IOU coupon for miscellaneous entertainment of his choice when we are in Amsterdam this July (there may more may not be pictures ;-0)

Ok, time to go purge…..the apple I just ate was not part of my daily plan.