Huh?

I told them I don't deserve it, neither did I ask for it. But the results got corrected and this arrived in the mail last week.

Sometimes just turning up is half the battle. Sometimes turning up and finishing is it all.

The Knowledge: Part 1

I've seen a lot of this on the Internet.

Inverse proof by self-coprologisation:

A: "I claim such and such a thing."
B: "I don't agree, but I'm a piece of crap!"
C: "It's self-evident that you are not a piece of crap, therefore A is wrong and A must be a piece of crap."
B: "Thank you, C!"(with coprophagic grin).

Now you know how to win an argument on the 'net; and simultaneously call the other party a piece of crap without calling him a piece of crap.

Breathing Underwater in Steamboat

Greetings from Steamboat Springs. A large and expensive ski town lying at nearly 7000 ft in NW Colorado.

Steamboat Springs Stage Race (www.bikesteamboat.com)

Drinking gallons of water and peeing like a racehorse every hour on the hour to avoid the threat of dehydration.

Short version:

Day 1: TT. Ran out of Oxygen after 100 yards. Not good.

Day 2: Circuit race: Stayed with lead group. Ran out of oxygen on final hill. Into GC top 10.

Day 3: Road race: Stayed with lead group. Ran out of oxygen on final hill. Retained GC place.

Day 4: Crit: Blacked out on OTF effort. Finished in pack. Retained GC place.

Longer version:

Day 1: Cycling through Glue. Breathing Underwater at 7000 ft.

Friday was a 3 hour drive to Steamboat, then a rush to register and get bike together for the prologue TT. No TT rig but I managed to bring along an aero helmet and skinsuit, mounted clipons to the bars and dropped the stem as low as it would go.

Seems like a waste to have people take a day off for a 13-15 minute race, plus forcing people to bring along two bikes - discouraging carpooling. Might be better to run another competition as well, e.g. Street Sprints for time bonuses, and to do the TT Eddy Merckx style.

10k course. 8k Undulating out and back followed by a 2k 5% uphill.

Just couldn't get warmed up. I'm already breathing underwater after about 100 yards. Feels like I'm cycling through glue, have to drop down two gears below where I need to be.

Hit the turnaround at halfway and have made up no time on my 30 second man. Manage to recover slightly with a slight tailwind and get into something resembling a groove (although still in a stage of controlled hypoxia). Make up maybe 5 seconds as we hit the base of the climb. Keep shifting gears trying to find my happy place and alternating between bars, hooks and drops, I start to make up some time. 500 meters to go and I dump the chain down 3 gears, get in the aerobars and hammer as hard as I can. The finish catches me by surprise but I catch and pass my rabbit with a couple of yards to spare.

Not very happy with this effort - I know I can do a lot better. Well down on GC.

Hacked up half a lung afterwards.

Flatted a latex tube just after crossing the finish line

Day 2: Railing switchbacks moto-style. Whooping cough at 7000 ft

Bust the last of my latex tubes pumping it up before the start. Got there in good time so no problem changing it out.

Saturday was a 29 mile circuit race on an unbuilt housing development. Nice closed course, nothing there but several miles of immaculate private road. One steep climb, one mile long followed by a helter skelter careening descent, a little bit of flat, a few more hills, another fast winding descent, followed by a long false flat in a cross wind to the base of the hill. 6.5 laps of a a 4.5 mile course, 500 ft of climbing per lap. Yes, that's 500 ft per lap.

Each lap I'm surprised that they don't call EMT everytime I crest the hill. I sound like a whooping cough victim. Might be contagious.

First time down the descent and I get gapped badly and have to pin it just to catch. Not fun. Manage to figure it out for the next laps. Drop it into the 53*11 and pedal hard whenever you get the chance, close any gaps immediately. My new Giant frame railed the downhills at close to 50 mph and 45 degree angles on the turns. What a rush.

First 3 times up the hill and I'm suffering. Barely hanging on - using the descent for recovery. Then the legs start to open up and I feel progressively better. Front group is opening a gap on the field each time. 4 laps to go I crest 12th, then 8th, then 6th. Bell lap - I'm in 4th and 6 of us have a gap of several seconds over what remains of the decimated field. Two fast descenders catch us on the downhill and we hit the flat as a group of 8 on each of the last two laps - including 3 riders from the local team. All that has to happen is that we drill it for 2 minutes and the GC for the race is decided. Instead the 3 local riders go to the front and set an easy tempo - 10 riders catch on before we hit the hill again.

This was a big mistake and it cost that team. They were obsessed with racing for places - it's a stage race, places don't matter, time does.

Last lap and we scream down the descent. One guy gets gapped off the front and goes for it, nobody chases. I take one strong pull but nobody comes around. Not up to a flatlander to do all the work. We give the win to the OTF guy - fair play to him for giving it a go - wouldn't happen in Illinois.

Ten more guys catch on before the final hill. Yes, they will be dropped, but will only lose 20-30 seconds instead of the several minutes they would have if we had tried to drill it earlier.

Halfway up the hill and the pace reaches frantic level. Ten of us left. 3 guys jump away, I try to follow them but simply can't take in enough oxygen and my legs seize up. Nothing I can do. I still have a lock on 5th place though. 400 m to go and my gears start spontaneously shifting. I upshift, downshift - nothing works. Have to drop it into the 39*15 before the chains stays steady. Lose about 15 seconds and 3 places. Jump into top 10 on GC.


Final climb - desperately trying to find a stable gear and losing places

pic by fitzgerald photography



Steamboat Pilot video

Day 3: Going hypoxic in 45 mph crosswinds. Death wobble at 7000 ft;

50 mile road race, Horseshoe shaped course. 27 miles out, 22 miles back. A mere 3500 ft of climbing.



Afternoon winds got up to over 30 mph with gusts over 45 mph. Developed death wobbles several times in crosswinds on hairy descents. Had to hang at back for safety's sake. Outward leg was mostly head and crosswind, pack kept together. Lots of competition for a good draft. One crash when competition for the white line got a bit too competitive.

About 3 miles into race I jump off the front to test the legs. Get a gap but start to hyperventilate. 1 other guy (Casper Wheelmen) jumps onto my wheel. Conversation as follows:

Me - "Pull through! (gasp)"
Casper guy - "I can't"
Me "Why not? (gasp)"
Casper: "You're Carlos, right? I'm working for my teammate, Can't risk you getting away. I'm just going to sit on your wheel."
Me: "That's the end of (gasp) that then" ...And I sit up.

Apart from the time Dan Hill nicknamed me "Ekimov", this is the highest cycling compliment anyone has ever paid me. It's official - I am now a GC threat!

Took me 30 minutes to recover from that effort.

About 5 miles before the turnaround the field gets gapped on a vicious crosswind descent. Only myself and another guy catch on. The field is now down to 25 riders. One huge TT guy goes OTF and and out of sight. We know he's extremely powerful but not a good climber. He stays out there for nearly 20 miles.

Hit the turnaround and feed zone and it's more uphill than downhill on the home stretch - but still all crosswind. I take care to find a good draft and stay in the first echelon.

3 miles out, 20 to go, I find myself gapped off the front. I punch it a bit to see what would happen. This initiates 20 miles of eyeballs out, punch and counter-punch, no-respite aggressive racing. Fun times.

My attack gets dragged back quickly, another guy counters, noone responds and he takes off to bridge to the solo guy. In a magnificent effort he catches him, they work together for 10 miles, he drops him and soloes home the final few miles for an amazing win, securing the GC overall in the process.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we're attacking each other like crazy, really booking it at speeds of up to 50 mph in tailwind and 5 mph downhill in a headwind. Gaps are forming and being closed down. Alliances formed and severed. I look behind and the group is down to 14. A few more miles and we're down to 10.

The GC leader attacks to save his lead, we reel him in after a couple of miles. Hitting the first of a series of hills we catch the first OTF guy and feel it's only a matter of time before we reel in the other guy. He's got a lead of about a minute. Hit another hill and the group detonates. Down to 8. Get gapped in a crosswind, fight back on, hit another hill, and the man with the hypoxic hammer strikes. The legs lock up. I'm only two seconds behind a group of 4 but it might as well be two hours. No way can I close it and they ride away from me.

The last hill I expected to be a couple of miles long. The other riders are only about 30 seconds ahead. I settle in, find my happy place and wait for the guys in front to blow up. Round the first corner there's a line of cars, someone shouts 200 meters, the line is right there. Race over. No signage, no nothing. All a bit sudden.

Field blown to smithereens. They straggle in over the next 30 minutes. I vault over 3 guys but 3 others vault over me. Retain same place in GC.

Only hack up a 1/4 lung this time.

Yet another mechanical - loose front hub causing death wobble.

Day 4: Breaking wind is hard to do. Blacking out at 7000 ft.

Image Eddie Clark- Mountain Flyer

Downtown crit. 40 minutes. Classic rectangular Midwest-style crit. Easy-to-pedal corners. Kicker hill plus false flat into strong headwind to finish line.

First 10 minutes were among my hardest 10 minutes on a bike. Going hypoxic each time up the kicker. Hanging on for dear life at the back. Finish with the pack and I keep my GC place - get gapped and I'm out of the money.

After ten minutes things slow down. GC is already decided. Everyone knackered. Gentleman's agreement not to attack except to sprint for primes. That's ok by me.

I recover. 3.5 laps to go and I sneak off the front. Noone reacts. I punch it into the headwind and 500 m finishing straight. Get a big gap ~ 15 seconds. Noone chases. Now's my chance for everlasting glory - just keep this gap for 3 quick laps and the win is mine. I punch it up the hill ... and start to black out. It was the definition of the CBDHS (Crash & Burn Dan Hill-style). Can't finish when you're lying in the ditch. I sit up, let them catch me and finish the race mid-pack.

If I was living at 6000 ft instead of 600 the story might be different.

All in all: more good luck than bad. Top 5 in GC. Ok for a flatlander. I'll take it. My best result ever.

Steamboat Pilot video
CO races always have a good emphasis on safety and are blessed with excellent officials. I like that. CO has famously poor payouts, but this doesn't deter half a dozen pros and a 13 times womens world champion (Jeannie Longo) from coming out and racing the excellent courses. I like that also.

Still a Thrill!

Ronald Reagan Criterium 2010

Dixon, IL

I remember the 80s as a mostly dismal decade of Greyness, unemployment, blue eyeshadow, perms and shoulder pads. Musically, there was a golden age from 1978-83, then it all started to go horribly wrong. The charms of the Linn drum machine waned, to be replaced by hollow formula music and computerised farting.

Amongst those memories, Ronald Reagan stands prominent. In my opinion he was one of America's worst presidents. In foreign relations he did great harm to America's reputation in the world. Before Ronnie most of the world actually liked America. After Ronnie and his innovative policies, America's name was dirt. By effectively codifying the Fifth Freedom - the right to screw over your fellow man unimpeded - he initiated an era of naked Capitalism that made us feel good about ourselves for being selfish and greedy. We're still paying the price, both politically and economically, for his presidency.

That said, Ronnie was certainly no elitist. From a humble upbringing, he is probably the last American President not to graduate from Yale or Harvard, was president of a union, and certainly didn't care about your background as long as you could screw people over better than the next guy; and make money doing it. He also was The Great Communicator - he could tap into a place in the hearts and minds of the American people that no other post-war president could find and sell his city-on-the-hill hokum to great effect.

What's this got to do with bike racing? Not much, but it wasn't enough to put me off participating in the Ronald Reagan Memorial Crit in Dixon, IL (his hometown) last Saturday. I already had done the Hooverfest race (commemorating an underrated President) so I might as well do this one. Smalltown races are the best anyway.

The race was well-organized, reasonable entry fees (with a nominal $10 for a second race), safe, with plenty of volunteers and top notch race commentary. It received a deserved boost in attendance. Due to downtown reconstruction the 0.8 mile course was somewhat changed, L-shaped, it was faster and eliminated a couple of sketchy corners. Running it clockwise and moving the start/finish line meant that the roughest portions were uphill and the finish was safer. The main feature was a bumpy rise into a headwind, good to launch an attack, followed by two corners and a long tailwind section to a slight rise to the finish, all the corners were wide, so accordeons were not played much today.

Masters 4/5: About 30 starters. Cat 4s don't really start to tire until 25-30 minutes, so a 30 minute race is always going to be difficult for a non-sprinter like me. The first 10 minutes were the usual over enthusiastic surges at the back, so much so that I chose to tailgun it for several laps, moving up to the middle when the panic had died down and everyone was a bit more used to the course. After 15 minutes nothing much had happened, I sensed the pack start to slow a bit and started to move to the front to see what was going on. Just then the announcer announced a prime for a 20-pack of something or other. It had to be beer! So I hammered it off the front, got a gap, maintained it for the lap and sprinted for all I was worth for the last couple of hundred yards, just to ensure that no-one surprised me at the line. Noone did and I won my first ever prime.

Had a big gap with noone chasing. Might as well go for it. Stayed out there for 6 laps but needed 7. They let me hang as I expected them to. The time gap decreased then increased, but never more than about 12 seconds. I put myself in too deep a hole going for the prime, never properly recovered, and it was controlled pain management and oxygen deficit disorder until I succumbed. I did manage to pick up a second prime for my trouble though. Being in front meant that I could choose the best lines and pedal through all the corners, which was a lot of fun, but only prolonged the agony. Meanwhile, the Cat 4s did what Cat 4s do best - nothing - and they caught me coming up to the bell. I retired to mid-pack which is where I finished.

Had I measured out my effort a bit better, I could maybe have surprised them, or at least forced them to work, but it was another Cat 4 criterium condensed to a 20 second effort.

Zero attacks, initiative or willingness to work.

1st half of race 24.5 mph, 2nd half 25.3 mph.

Open 4/5: More of the same. Several solo OTF efforts left to dangle. At least 3 or 4 people turned up to race anyway. I made several abortive efforts that didn't get anywhere. One half lap effort getting hauled back by an unattached rider who then sat up. Found that a bit strange.

With 5 laps to go they announced a prime for a Ronald Reagan T-shirt. Nothing, not even the guy 15 seconds off the front, was going to stop me from getting that T-shirt. I just wanted to see the look on Mrs F's face when I presented her with the special prize I won for her.

I launched up the hill, railed the corners and put it in the 53*12 for the last 300 meters. Caught the leader with yards to spare and snagged my prize. Ok, that done, time to work together and set up a break.

I zoomed around turn 1, ready to get organized .. and started retching violently. Ok, forget about the break. Time to recover. Apologies to Eric of BH for getting his hopes up.

The pack caught me, I tried to latch on but only managed to get on the very back. 3 primes in a row kept the pace high so no recovery for me. It was a full field, apart from the two guys who nearly killed themselves in a collision when sprinting for a pack of Jelly Bellys, that started the last lap together when the pace eventually ramped up. I managed to move up to halfway for the final corner, but the larger field meant more chances to hide for the sit-ins and too many fresh legs made it was a much faster sprint than the previous race.

These races were notable for the complete lack of aggression and willingness to work shown by the riders. Honestly, why do you race? If you weren't hanging on at the back for dear life it was easy to get to the front and make things happen. I race with the hope of getting better, going faster, trying to learn and enjoy. If I don't learn from a race I don't enjoy it, and I don't get better.

If you come in with complete lack of ambition, with the intention of feeling good about yourself by not getting dropped, staying anonymous mid-pack for the duration, laughing at those who give it a go and then handing the top spots to the three pure sprinters and the couple other strong 500m effort guys in the field - what's the point? Why not stay at home and wrestle with your granny for control of the remote? You may not have a greater chance of winning but at least it will fulfil that competitive edge that you fail to bring to a bike race. I have DFL'd more races than I can count, but I have never turned up to a race with the intention of not racing and not doing my best. How many of the Illinois Cat 4s can say that?

That said. Very enjoyable event. Great atmosphere. Can only get bigger.

That 20-pack? Laxatives, I think. Same effect as the Ronnie shirt.

My wife's reaction when I presented her my very special prize? Let's just say that I'm glad I built a very luxurious doghouse - that's where I'm writing this right now.

Iowa State Road Race 2010

{Insert smartass remarks about Herbert Hoover, Hooverfest, Hooverball, Great Depression etc and draw ludicrous analogies to bike racing}

Last year this was the hardest race I had ever done. 25 mph ave speed in 25 mph cross winds. I got dropped with a few miles to go. No-holds-barred survival of the fittest. The way a state road race should be.

I've always enjoyed racing in Iowa. Friendly folks who race hard. So I was really looking forward to the 2010 edition and a break from the lame Cat 4 groupthink that Chicago has brought to a fine art. Unfortunately, the virus has spread.

Nice course. Roads in superb condition. Lots of rollers but only 1 significant hill. 27 mile rectangular loop with every side exposed to a crosswind, it seemed.

Very poor turnout. For such a well-organised race, with low entry fee, wheel trucks, lead car, motos, and the support of the locals, only 20 Iowa cat 4s bothered to turn out to honour their State Championship. Throw in a few out-of-staters and the peloton started only 25 strong.

Neutral rollout out of town and my teammate breaks his right shifter - he's stuck in the 11T for the next 54 miles and a choice of either 39 or 53 to pair with it. This is a big blow, because he's very strong and is always up for an attack. Between the two of us we could really have made our mark on the race. Instead he's forced to go to the front and set tempo at a pace he can handle and make sure to get a clear shot at all the downhills to minimize the out of the saddle mashing on the ascent. Didn't stop several others from closing down any gaps he got, even though everyone knew his predicament.

Not a huge team presence, 6 from New Pi, 3 Dice and 3 Rasmussen plus a mish-mash of all the other Iowa teams. New Pi sent several riders on off-the-front efforts while the other two teams did nothing, not even chasing, until the last mile.

The rain came down with varying intensity over the duration. It was welcome, cooled us down and made me homesick. The wind was mild, maybe 10 mph, strong enough to make solo breaks too hard but not enough to make guttering worthwhile, or to have any wear and tear on the pack.

Not much noteworthy during the race. I tried several off the front efforts but got chased down. Also attempted several bridges to solo breaks - jump for 10 seconds, get a gap, strong 30 second effort to get on first guy's wheel, look behind, find the pack on my heels, pull off, pace immediately slows down. This happened several times, so I gave up and resolved to let any solo attacks ride away if they could.

Strange thing is that every roller and hill was hammered at a huge effort, then we would slow down again until the next hill. Given the lack of work being done, most legs were still fresh enough to do this, even after 50 miles. So much so that we succeeded in dropping exactly zero riders.

The order of the day was neutralize any bridge attempt, then slow the race to a manageable pace - manageable often being 19 mph or so. Don't know why this is considered a racing tactic, you're basically handing the race on a plate to the 2-3 real sprinters who are hiding mid-pack and laughing away at all the fools marking each other out, knowing full well that they'll come out to play when the finish line looms and their fresh legs will ride away from the rest.

It's a state championship - honour it. If you don't want to race then at least give those who came to race a chance. Tootling along at pedestrian pace and sprinting up the occasional hill does not make you a racer or the event a race.

After all the abortive solo attacks, bridging efforts and, out of boredom, keeping the pace up at the front - my legs were pretty much toasted. Heart Rate was remarkably low but power was either recovery/endurance effort or way anaerobic. Far too many matches burnt. Nothing much else happened. We had a few heavy rain showers and a few more abortive solo breaks left to dangle until we finally made the turn for home.

The last four miles is the best feature - a drawn-out drag race. Narrow road, gradual uphill, a few rollers and a crosswind, with the last 500 meters being about a 3% grade to the finish line. I fought hard to make my way up to the front and stay there. There were plenty of wheels jockeying to get into the 5 man paceline at the front. I opted to ride mostly parallel, soaking up more wind but better positioned for the inevitable swarm.

I managed to maintain about 6th position, with a good line of riders following my wheel, but none opting to try to come around. The pace was gradually upping the closer we got to the finish and plenty of digs were required on the mild rollers in order not to fall back.

With about 600 meters to go the shenanigans started. Too many fresh legs who had done no work. A few riders tried to bully their way past me, I was ready and jumped to counter. A junior who, several people noted, had problems riding a bike straight tried to sprint past but only managed to smash his bars into my hip (I have the bruise to prove it). No danger to me but I had to slow down a bit to steady him up and prevent him from crashing. A few riders got past me - now relegated to about 12th.

We hit the feed zone at the base of the hill, the riders in front fan out and the sprint is on. I do what I can on the uphill but it isn't much - the legs hurt like heck. I have to wait for those in front of me to blow up, which they do, and I pass them in the final yards to sneak into the top 10.

Top 10 in a state championship is nothing to be ashamed of, but I'd much rather be dropped from a hard race than get a respectable finish in a lame one.

In retrospect, I regret not trying harder in the last couple of miles, I should have worked harder to stay in the top 3 wheels. It wasn't as hard as I expected. I've learned that, when it's a relatively difficult approach to the finish, position is everything - it's difficult to get swarmed; the guys who work to stay at the front are the ones who finish on the podium. Try harder, finish higher.

If I had sat in the whole race and just some to the front for the last couple of miles I would easily have been in the money places and maybe top 3. But if you ever see me sitting in for the sprint... please shoot me.

One thing I have to note were the guys headbutting each other in the sprint Cavendish-Renshaw style and boasting about it afterwards. Moronic.

Anyway, great venue and organisation. Glad to be able to support it. Iowa City Cycling Club do a great job. Pity that a State Championship couldn't be raced a bit more positively, but my fault for expecting anything better. Oh well, riding in the rain was exhilarating and the last three miles were am enjoyable, intense headrush.

Of course the top finishers were the guys who did no work and made no contribution. That's Cat 4 racing - hand the win to a guy with a decent sprint and feel good about yourself because you didn't get dropped.

For the powergeeks: 2:17:45, 23.4 mph, Ave HR 140 bpm (very low). AP: 215W NP: 275W, 57% recovery/endurance/coasting, 27% supra max (too high). Very little time spent at threshold or race pace.

Last 3 miles, 27 mph, 302 W. Uphill Sprint: 460 m, 35 seconds, 31 mph, 510 W (low)

{Insert more smartass remarks about Herbert Hoover, potatoes and draw more ridiculous analogies to bike racing}

Mississippi Bluffs Road Race

Mississippi Bluffs road race is one of those goofy-charming events that ABR occasionally throws up. I like the loop a lot. 3 miles or so of narrow quiet roads with a bit of sand and gravel and quite a few twists. Onto a wide straight section that leads into a screaming safe downhill to a sharp right hander immediately followed by a long, two-tier 5% hill, a few minor rollers, a short steep hill and a long, exposed gradual descent to a narrower road with a couple of right handers and slight uphills. The finish is tricky; a steep 1/4 mile hill, descent and a 500m 2% grade to the finish line. Jump on or before the hill and try to hold the gap into the wind for a mile, hammer it as soon as you see the finish in the distance and risk giving a free leadout to the others or running out of gas, or wait until 200 m to go to sprint and risk getting caught out and starting too late. No perfect way to do it - depends on your own strengths and the dynamics of the group.

Anyway, of the 15 miles in the loop about 2/3rd is good quality roads with a hard shoulder, 5 miles or so are 2 lane blacktop with no shoulder and occasional sand and gravel. A few hundred feet of climbing per lap is enough to sap the legs after a few laps, combined with the ample heat, tail and crosswinds there are plenty of chances to attack; and once a well-organised break gets away - it's not coming back.

Previous years the race had only been two laps, not long enough to drop anyone - and it had all been decided in a mile-long drag race to the finish. So when I saw that this year's race would have 4 laps for the open and 3 for the masters I was excited. That extra length, combined with the course, would make it a lot more testing and should provide for a challenging and enjoyable race.

Being ABR, things like the centerline rule, littering and other such inconsequential rules are pretty much left up to the honor of the riders. As long as they're not too grossly violated don't expect anyone to care. Oh, and expect a two week wait for results.

Donnie and his Dicecyling crew had put a lot of work into the race over the past few years, combine that with a bargain $20 entry fee (half that of superweek) and the lack of available Road Races - this event was one that I was determined to support.

By some unfortunate scheduling, there was also a MTB event taking place nearby that drew away riders and volunteers. The DOT also decided to carry out some last minute roadworks on two sections of the course. Full credit to Donnie for taking this in his stride and sweet-talking the DOT and Police forces to cooperate. It all ran smoothly and the road crews very graciously gave us right of way when safe - it never proved to be an issue.

The race itself tends to attract mainly older masters. It's one of the few that attracts appreciable turnout for 50+, and 60+ and even a few 70+. Numbers vary a lot. Very few Iowa riders are familiar with ABR and the level of open, junior and Women riders tends to vary in some weird random fashion. Last year there were a fair number of juniors and ladies, this year only one lady. Numbers were down a bit - partly due to the crazy MTB conflict, but mainly because of the weather - many didn't fancy a 60 mile race in a heat index of 100F+. Neither did I, but it's not enough to stop me from racing.

Although I would have been better suited to the masters, I registered for the 1/2/3/4 opens because some teammates were going to come along and we were all going to race together. They never showed, so when the open cat assembled we were 13 strong - three Cat 1/2s, eight Cat 3s and just two 4s. Had I known this I would have registered as a 3 in order to make it a better race.

First lap was pretty chill. Everybody was aware of the heat and rode sensibly. I, along with several other, started with 4 full bottles. The pace was moderate bar a few crazy-fast accelerations injected by the 1/2 guys. I've never encountered this in a cat 4 or master's race. I guess this is how the fast guys race. Everybody held on, bar James from ABD who flatted, and almost everybody (with one dishonorable exception) took their fair share of pulls.

Second lap was the same, easy with a couple of scary pace changes thrown in. Mid way through I had a bit of luck, we had come over the longish two-tier hill and hit a sharp 1/4 mile kicker into a headwind. I was first wheel and hit it at a fair, but non-blow up pace. Halfway up a train of 5 riders come past me, the pace was high and I was hurting, so was tempted to save some energy and sag to the back. I thought better of it, swallowed the pain and jumped on. Lucky I did. We hit a wild 30+mph over the top and kept it up for several minutes. I hung on. When things calmed down I looked back and we had shed maybe a third of the group.

Just before the start of Lap 3 two riders jumped on the hill, a third bridged, and they were away. After we figured out that they were the three 1/2 guys everyone else was content to fight out the cat 3s amongst themselves. It would have been tempting to try to bridge, but I doubt if the others would let me go.

Lap 3 we kept up a reasonable pace in the heat and rotated through smoothly - no more crazy pace changes. At this stage it became clear that one rider from PACT was not working and ticking everyone off. Everytime he'd get to second wheel he'd languidly drop off and fall to the back - usually over the yellow line if it kept him out of the wind. In a group of half a dozen those shenanigans become embarrassingly obvious. A number of people spoke to him but it was a waste of time. He'd feign lack of understanding and start rubbing his calves in fake-cramp mode.

James who flatted was still out there two laps later. A teammate, the only lady rider, stopped and gave him a tube, I believe.

Mindful of the possibility of being caught by dropped riders, I kept the pace high the couple of times it flagged. The smaller the group the better for me. Turning the corner in to the wind another rider dropped off from heat/exhaustion. We were down to 5.

A mile into lap 4 we came upon one of the cat 1/2 guys with a flat. The XXX rider, who had been riding strongly, then dropped out and told us to continue on - down to 4. At this stage I knew I'd be able to make it to the finish and wasn't worried about being dropped or not. Two of the others started laying down sudden jumps to try and drop the wheelsucker. Didn't do it very well though. The first guy would get a gap, I wouldn't react, the 2nd guy would then lay down some power to bridge up with the wheelsucker on his wheel. This happened several times, the other two taking turns jumping but then dragging the wheelsucker back up with them each time. Seemed like a good way to wear yourself out. Not once did they succeed in forcing him to expend any extra energy. I told them that it would be much better if they both jumped simultaneously while the wheelsucker was on my wheel, thereby forcing him to chase, but they didn't seem to get it.

This went on for a few miles until a rider joined us from behind. It was the Cat 1 with the flat, XXX had sportingly given him his wheel and he had buried himself to catch us. We started rotating smoothly, minus any help from our PACT friend of course. As he was clearly a musclebound sprinter type the best chance to put some hurt on him was on a hill. I went to the front and killed it up the sharp hill where we had dropped a few riders two laps previously. Got a gap on him, crested the hill and yelled at the next guy to pull through to hammer it - he promptly eased off and it was gruppo compatto again. That was the end of that. I then got an earful from the Cat 1 for not rotating smoothly. Sorry man! I guess you know better - not your personal leadout train quite yet.

Nothing much happened on the rest of the lap. We had some fun trying to get the sprinter dude to go to the front - at one stage he ended up there by accident and we all eased off to leave a gap. He slowed down and started to rub his calves somewhat worriedly. Nearly fell off our bikes laughing.

Curiously dysfunctional group - wheelsucking got to a couple, I was mad about littering, another guy mad about a flat and a missed win and everyone put in bad temper by the heat. We didn't work together well.

It was clear that the cat 1 guy was much stronger than anyone else, but I'd fancy my chances one-on-one against any of the other three riders. In a group though my function is usually to come second last in any sprint situation - much like CBR Luke in that respect. It would be fun to be in a break with him to see who would come last or who would try to break off the front the earliest.

I thought there would be a chance that the others might mark each other out, so I jumped about 1/2 a mile before the last steep hill. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that there was still $30 on the line for 3rd place. The Cat 1 wasn't having any of it and he chased me down, dragging the others back up.

We hit the hill with a mile to go. Last year I got jumped and gapped on this hill, so I kept a strong pace up the ascent. Nobody came around. Kept the speed up on the downhill without straining myself - nobody came around. Hit the uphill with 500 meters to go and I punched it. After 60 miles in sweltering heat I had only 10 good seconds in me when I needed 40. They came around me with 350 m to go. Cat 1 winning the sprint easily for 3rd, with the PACT guy, whose cramps had mysteriously vanished, sucking his wheel all the way for the Cat 3 win. Then a big gap to the Cat 3 junior, another gap to me, and an even bigger gap to the last Cat 3 of our bunch who blew up even worse than I did. Second last in the group again!

6th overall. Three 1/2s and two Cat 3s ahead of me. 12 or 13 starters, 8 finishers.

Didn't really feel the heat until the last couple of miles - then was quite overcome - couldn't even talk. Stripped off as much as I could dare and headed for the pump for an improvised standing shower. Cooled down after a while, exchanged a few war stories, thanked the organizer for all his good work and hightailed it for home.

For powergeeks - time 2:43:24, 61.17 miles, 22.5 mph, AP 214 W, NP 261 W. HR 157 bpm. IF .886 - fairly mellow race with some strong surges, indicative of the heat and riding in a chase group with no incentive to really push it.

There were some problems with the results, but they got changed after a couple of emails. Fun race, great course, deserves support, roll on next year.

What I am going to get worked up about is this - Littering! There were two riders in my group who had no problem with throwing their gel wrappers into the ditch and launching water bottles into a hedge. I know who you are, you know who you are. You got some abuse from more than one rider because of it but ignored everything. I can give you all the cliches about coming over and dumping all my trash on your lawn, or how you are doing your best to destroy the few road races we have. The cliches are still true. Just because it's ABR and you would probably have to shoot an official to get DQ'd does not make it alright. Any rider who litters is contemptible and does not have my respect as a rider or a human being. Sound harsh? It's supposed to!

First Road Payout

Always a thrill to get a check!

State Crit - Peoria Cycling Classic

A lot of updates due on this blog, might as well do them in reverse.

The Peoria Cycling Classic has got to be the best club-organized cycling event in the state. Close to 100 volunteers, run like clockwork, smooth registration, great course and the only chance to race through closed streets in a real downtown - particularly impressive to pull it off with no significant sponsorship. It's also the State Crit Championships. As such, it's disappointing that it doesn't get a better attendance - it certainly deserves better. Teams that turned out in force were Mack, XXX, Burnham and SCW - lots of bigger teams out there that don't seem to value a top-notch course and a State Championship very highly. But, I'm biased.

The course itself is a 1 mile figure 8 with one loop about twice as long as the other. Very wide streets, no sharp corners and a deceptive elevation change that can really sap the legs after 15-20 trips around. The defining feature is a long back stretch into a headwind, turning into a sharp rise then turning into a 300 m tailwind finishing straight. Lots of options for the final sprint, jump early on the back stretch, go from the final corner or pick the best wheel to draft and come around in the final 100 m. No perfect way, it depends on your strengths and how well you gauge the other riders. Any way you risk being caught or letting a guy solo home. The course is also tempting for breakaways, get down low into the headwind, get a gap, pedal through every corner , and it requires a lot of work from the pack to be brought back.

Almost all of the races featured long-term breaks, some were brought back, some weren't.

Up at 5:30, helping with setup, registration, officials etc. Nice turnout from the juniors, who received a thorough soaking from the elements for their efforts. The rain stayed away for the rest of the day, moderate temperature until mid-afternoon when the mercury hit the discomfort level.

Very few of the local racers do well in this event, as everybody gets pretty worn out from volunteering duties, but it's also important to represent the jersey - most jump into two races.

I should really save my bullets for the last race of the day, but I'd have been working 10 hours at this stage so I knew I wouldn't be worth much. I decided to give what I got in the morning Masters race. Still pretty knackered from the days at ToAD, I wasn't very enthusiastic about warming up. Just rolled easily around a parking lot for 10 minutes and did a few cursory jumps up and down the street while the previous race wrapped up. Then it was 1 practice lap and roll up to the start.

After the nadir of lame groupthink racing that was the O'Fallon-Spring Prairie weekend, and being inspired by CBR Luke's SP race account - I have given up on looking for upgrade points or results. I'm going to go out there and race every race. To heck with the consequences, I'm going to have fun, leave it all out there and do my tiny bit to let people know that they've been in a race.

You might say that a Masters Open race is not the best place to try this, and you'd be right. With all the Cat 1s and 2s there I'd be well out of my depth. I was pretty worried about getting dropped early. So I did what I often do when I think I'm in trouble - go to the front.

Half a lap in and the field tucks in as we hit the headwind. I take the opportunity to move into the wind and move up. Not sure why I did what I did, it wasn't a conscious decision, I wanted to get some high speed practice on the corners, represent the jersey in our home race and get a good photo-op. My legs took over and I jumped. Hitting the line I already had a good gap, the announcer starts going crazy and at every corner someone is shouting for me. So I hammered it. I was thinking I could maybe last 3 or so laps, then retire back to the pack to be dropped gracefully when the hammer really went down - might as well enjoy all the vainglory while it lasted. After three laps I still had a gap of 12 seconds or so and the pack was content to let me hang. I was wondering how much longer I could last, then an unattached rider bridged up. First time that anyone has ever bridged up to any of my suicidal OTF efforts - this could be a new experience! He introduced himself as the brother of a teammate and we set to work, rotating every half lap or so. Now my focus changed to staying out there as long as possible. I had a very strong teammate who had already raced, He could sit in till we were caught. and would only have to work the remainder of the race. I knew he could still put out a strong 20 minutes, but maybe not the full 45 - so that would improve his chances of a good result.

The gap went up from 12 to 15 to 18 seconds, still never out of sight of the pack. My power began to drop after 20 minutes or so, my already poor cornering became very ragged and I was starting to get gapped by my breakmate. He had to slow a few times to allow me back on.The catch was made after 25 minutes That's about 23 minutes longer than my previous record. I had stayed out there for more than half the race.

Well, we had succeeded in shattering the pack. My breakmate managed to hang on to the back of the first group of 15 who came by, I didn't. And just barely managed to latch on to the next, laughing group, of about 10. Took me 3 laps or so, but I recovered and was able to take my pulls and go to the front without any problem.

We had 5 or more Team Mackers in the group including infamous cat54ever Mark Shea. When Mack is involved, it doesn't matter if we're racing for DFL, or whether they had already raced previously. Only one thing for sure - Macker vs Proctoid! IT'S ON!

Tried to jump away with 1 lap to go. Didn't get anywhere. One Macker jumped to the left on the back straight, I latched onto his wheel. Another came hammering up the right side, I found a jump and latched on. Up the incline and I went wide, he made room for a third Macker to come through on the inside. I went round and jumped onto his wheel. He wound up his sprint, I stayed in the draft and came round him with 50 meters to go. Worth it to hear race announcer Dangerous Dan Damotte screaming my name as I crossed the line. And it is Team Mack, after all, and it may be the first and last time that I get past Steve Driscoll in a sprint. We have to take our little victories where we find them.

Hmm.. 20 minutes on, 5 minutes recovery, 20 minutes on. I think I'm getting too used to my favourite interval session.

That race done I changed out of my kit and spent the next few hours working registration. Saw Dave Moyer winning the P12 race in an impressive solo effort and Burnham dominating the Cat 3s in their patented manner. By the time it came to suit up for the Cat 4s I was pretty much toasted. Up nearly 12 hours and with nothing to eat all day bar a bowl of oatmeal and a banana. Didn't bother warming up. Tailgunning it from the start. Hot as Heck. Nothing in the legs that could allow me to move up. Dropped after 5 laps. I TT'd it for a few more - not able to sustain the effort. Jumped onto the back of the pack when they came around with 5 to go. No problem staying with them this time. At this stage all attacks had been reeled in and it was clear it was going to be a sprint finish. We all knew who was going to win that, which he did easily, so the only question to be resolved was who was going to take 2nd. Turned out to be Q from Project 5 - one of the few who do well at both Cobb Park and the State Crit.

After that is was a couple of hours of teardown and clearup, followed by a post-mortem over a burger and a couple of pints of stout. Then home for a 10 hour sleep that a baby would be proud of.

I raced. I left it out there. I got dropped. I had fun.

Some notes:

For the 2nd year in a row not one Cat 1/2 lady bothered to show up.

I have only encountered one team in Illinois that ever displays bad sportsmanship. More of the same today and they got called out publicly for it.

2009 Road Season Wrapup

A fairly miserable 2009 road season it was. I think I only once finished in the top half of a race. major underachievement.

Crashed at Hillsboro but finished. Started to get dropped early in group rides and races immediately afterwards. Didn't get back to reasonable for for a couple of months. Did ok at O'fallon, tried to break 3 times, even tried to drive a 6 man group that got an accidental gap with 7 miles to go. Nothing doing. Everyone wanted to sit in for the sprint. A couple of miles later someone crashed spontaneously and a group of 10 got away. Those who did no work got on the podium.

Cobb Park was the only crit I really enjoyed. Managed to finish with the pack on half of my crits this year, versus zero last year. Got pulled at Snake alley. Dropped on the 2nd lap at Proctor - Despite that I managed to finish without getting lapped.

I'll do even fewer crits this year.

State TT was a disappointment. Overpriced and poorly organised.

Highlight of the season was a top 10 at the state RR. and not hitting the deck in the four crashes I was close to. Not much of a race, but uphill finishes are good for me. Could have ended up on the podium if I'd played it a bit smarter and not gotten myself boxed in.

Definitely stronger and with better endurance but not much to show for it. We'll see how 2010 pans out.

CX December

CX November

CX October

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