Sunday, June 19, 2011

Tour of Galena


The demeanour expresses everything.


(Still editing this. Expect some changes. Others may have seen it differently. But it's how I remember it.)

Time Trial:
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Violent. The only word I and most others could use to describe this. Violent start, violent effort, violent recovery. Violence done to legs, lungs and will.

Pro tip: don't eat breakfast.

The course was a roughly 3 mile out and back over deceptively steep rollers for wave 1. Wave two had a scary winding descent and climb approaching 20% grade tacked on for 4.3 miles.

Short efforts require long warmups and maximum efforts. No time to go out easy. You won't get the chance to make up time later, you've got to push it from the gun. But push it too hard and you will pay doubly for it on the return leg.

I knew that key to the course as to take as much speed as possible into the base of each hill, downshift rapidly, spin up and sprint over the top to hit maximum speed on the way down and bring it into the next incline.

With all the rapid shifting and out of the saddle efforts, it probably wasn't worth using a TT bike. Which is fine as I wouldn't have space for one anyway. I did opt to slam my stem and go with an aero helmet and skinsuit. I also installed a set of clip on aerobars, but wasted so much time getting in and out of them while shifting that I doubt they were any benefit. I don't have even a semi-aero wheel available so had to go with my 32 spoke box section rims and 25 mm tires - at least I had my get-out excuse already lined up.

Warming up is key. Shorter the event, the longer the warmup necessary. Ideally 45 minutes easy spinning followed by 10-15 minutes with jumps and short hard efforts. 7 am starts are not conducive to getting my stuff together. I managed 10 minutes on the course and a few jumps while waiting around to start. Not ideal.

Starting off into the first hill I gradually increased pace and shifted sensibly through the gears. However I just couldn't find the jump to bring me over the top at speed and I knew that, even though I was in the 11 tooth, I should have been spinning faster on the downhills. So it went, into and out of the drops, shifting, into the aerobars, back out sprinting and spinning - but missing something. The turnaround was a bit weird, there's usually a volunteer right there pointing at the correct turnaround cone. Instead there were a couple of officials and a volunteer standing in the ditch and a line of two cones, a 55 gallon drum and one more cone. Nobody indicating anything in particular. I've never seen a barrel used as a turnaround marker before, but I guessed this was the particular marker and went round this, not without scrubbing way too much speed in the confusion.

Heading for home I realised some urgency and forced myself to concentrate better. Smarter shifting, exaggerated crouch, more pain on the uphills. Threw no more time away. When the finish line at the top of the last hill came into view I shifted into the highest gear I could turn, and did an all out maximum standing effort up the hill. Crossing the line with a final throw and knowing I had aced the return.

The next ten minutes were a violent silence of empty heaving stomach, crouched over bars, blurred vision. Joined in the concert every 30 seconds or so by the next rider to finish. A silent cacophony of pain.

Definitely not a bad effort, but I left a few seconds out there.

It might be surprising that such a short effort could have a long effect, but the damage done to the body was definitely to be felt in the road race later that day.

Road Race
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Herd: A collection of animals acting together in an unplanned fashion. Each individual choosing behaviour corresponding to the majority of other members.

A herd tends to group together to protect against predators. even though they present an easy target, the principal motivator is risk-dilution.

Herds can be controlled by other species. i.e. sprinters or trackies. Or even motos, but motos tend to be more effective.

By definition, herds are preyed upon. Usually by sprinters or sandbaggers, or both.

Pack: A pack is less well defined. The big difference between a pack and a herd is politics. Packs have hierarchies. Packs have leaders. Packs have competition for leaders. Pack members will have different roles, such as workhorse, climber, sprinter. Packs split, self destruct and get absorbed by other packs.

Pack members have personalities but will work together for a common purpose. Usually attacking a herd. Packs sense weakness and attack. Sometimes packs attack anyway just to weaken the herd. When the herd is duly broken, it gets savaged and the pack will fight amongst themselves for the best spoils.

When folks like Druber and Little Lord Sprockula use words like outstanding, classic and brutal to describe a course, you can expect it to be a leg-breaking and selective with the pack shattering into drabbles of ones and twos and only riders who are willing to suffer and try hard getting to the finish to fight it out for the win and top placings.

My goal was to get a break going, or whittle the pack down, to a lead group of 5 or 6. That number I am confident I can work over to get a good result. More than that then it's just too hard to get away, too easy for others to hide in the draft and keep the legs fresh to respond. It didn't work out. I have two regrets. Not attacking more and turning up to race.

When cat 4 races on such a course end in bunch sprints, with fewer than half the starters shed, then you know that 'racing' is a loose term for the activity and a truthful account of the 'racing' that took place would be a very blank page.

I don't really get the herd mentality, so I turned to my best friend, Lucy, see above, and her telepathic skills to channel the thoughts of some of the participants during the event. She's an expert on herd dynamics and has years of experience and participation with the pack, so she could provide some useful insights.

The Weenie: "Ok, here we go! Mantra: Don't get dropped! Don't get dropped! Don't get dropped! ok, stay out of the wind. Need to be further back than 20th place at all times. Here's the first hill. Good. Nice and steady. Barely feel it here at the back. ... Crap! there goes a guy up the road! He's joined up with two others who were gapped off the front. Don't like the look of this. Better yell something and then pretend it wasn't me. Good. Two guys jumped across and slowed things down. That'll teach him.

Hills. I'm scared of hills. Better set an example from the back. Go as slow as possible. Yell that there are hills coming up. Conserve. Make sure everyone is as fresh as possible so that we all get over each hill together. Worst thing that can happen is that we shred the group. Then I would have no where to hide.
..ok, got through almost all the race without a problem. That last big scary hill is coming. better slow things down even more for that. oops! looks like 3 or 4 guys are sliding off, including the big TT guy and that scary fast sprinter. Can't have that. Sit up over the top. Soft-pedal, eat and drink. comment on how hard that was. Took a couple of minutes but they're back on. Can't risk diluting the herd. We need those guys to hide behind at the end. Nice. Five mile downhill to the finish. We're almost all together. Lots of shelter from the big guys. That guy punching it at the front has no chance. Last few curves. Cross the line. I did it! I didn't get dropped! Still in the bottom half of the field but at least I did what I could to emphasise the groupthink; and I didn't get dropped!"

The Sprinter: "Hills. Hate 'em! But the cat 4s have been good to me so far. They've handed every race to me on a plate and I've barely broken a sweat. Even though I'm 15 kilos over weight and have may be two accelerations in me, I'm sure they will figure out a way to keep me with them to the end. They always do. ok, rolling along nicely. I'll just stay her in 10th position. Out of the wind and keeping an eye on things. Uh, oh! There goes that guy, hammering over the top of the hill into the false flat and joining up with two others. This looks bad. Better bite the bullet! Ok, I jumped onto the back. There are 4 of us. Now let's kill this thing. That guy is pulling through like a monster but the other guys pulls are barely hard tempo. Here's my turn. Two quick spins of the pedals and pull to the side. Put that guy back in the wind before he even knew it and took a good 1 mph off the pace. Nice! The pack has nearly caught us. Hope that puts the dampers on
things. If one or two others really wanted to work I could be in trouble.

Alright, first lap over. That hurt. But I managed to haul my ass up those hills. Now that we've dropped all the non-climbers it's going to be a Sunday stroll to the finish. Anyone who ups the pace is gonna be made pay dearly in the end.

... Not looking forward to this. Steep hill. Sliding off the back.... Knew I should have stuck to crits. Too far from home to DNF, better struggle on. At least I have some company. Was really expecting to win this weekend.

what's this? They've all sat up over the top. Drinking and chatting! What a well-mannered bunch. Just a minute or two of tempo and I can catch them before the downhill. These guys sure don't like dropping anyone. Knew they'd find a way to help me out. This is too easy. ok, one big effort for the last hill. Don't lose the wheels. Now the downhill. Lots of shelter. Move up gradually. 500 m to go. Thanks for all the help. Time to go to work!"

The Cat4ever Altruist:
"There he goes. Jump on his tail. Nice and smooth so that the pack can follow me. He sits up. Good. The cheek of him! Thinking he can break away in a cat 4 race and subvert the order of things. You're gonna have to cat up buddy if you want to race like that! And I'm going to do my best to make sure you never do. You're staying with me in the 4s forever till you give up or learn to play the game.

What the heck? Attacking over the top of the hill? Doesn't he know there are strong riders off the back. Guys who could win this race if we agree to stay together. Better put the dampeners on that. Nice and smooth acceleration, get on his wheel make sure to drag the others with me. Good, he's given up."

"Very interesting Lucy. Any more insights?"

"Dude, you have to learn to play the game. It's dead easy. Run with the herd. Dilute the risk. Your motivation is racing, theirs is fear. Fear of getting dropped, and fear that not everyone is socialised to the groupthink. Be patient and do nothing. Someone else will do it for you. Just bark and growl a couple of times and watch the sprinter. It's that simple.

"Thank you Lucy. But I'd rather die."

"Your loss. Racing is for fools. Now, how's about my walkies? Woof!"

The Crit
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Pointy oval. Turn were manageable. Only sketchy part was where the backstretch narrowed, widened and narrowed again. Cat 4 races are always a minefield, and on such a course where the field would keep together one false step could result in many of us losing limbs.

I wrote in an email to a buddy the night before: "I will attack three times, the field will chase me down each time and Stan the Sprinter will win". So it went.

We started off at a fast pace and attacked every corner, as cat 4s love to do. I hung at my customary place at the back, just barely hanging on. About 10 minutes in a bit of zip went out of peoples legs and I could sense the pace starting to fall off and the field beginning to bunch. The previous Cat 4 race resulted in a massive last lap crash with ambulances called, collarbone breaks and multiple carbon fiber fatalities. I value my life highly these days ($200k according to work insurance), so I wasn't going to take any risks. A fast race equals strung out equals a safe race. Slow race equals bunching equals banging equals unsafe with too many fresh legs for the last lap.

You don't get upgrade points for cat 4 omniums, but it's nice to get some exposure for the club jersey all the same. I don't start with the aim of finishing second (see my Leland report), so the only way to win the overall was to win the race outright. And the only way to do that for me was get in a break or win solo. Never seen a successful break in a cat 4 race, but I believe one may have happened back in 1985 - so might as well give it a go.

I jumped to the front where the alley widened for a few yards, and hammered it out of the tight corner. Got a gap of a few seconds. Got aero and as I passed the announcers, did a maximum gurn - complete with full teeth clench and slobber out the side of my mouth. Gives a good photo op and impresses the ladies. Keeping up the pace into the wind on the backstretch proved difficult and the field worked hard to close me down.

Next time round I jumped again, increased the gap and hammed it up for the announcers again with my best Tod Hetzel impression. This seemed to tick off the chasers and they worked even harder to close on the backstretch. My hope was that if I could do this four or five times, then they might just give up and let me go for a solo attempt and force some of the omnium guys to chase. Or maybe the field would break apart on a corner and I would be joined by a smaller, more manageable group. But at least the speed kept up. Third time around I jumped again, did my best batface with drool out of both sides of my mouth this time, but the exertion of the previous day were taking their toll and pretty much died into the headwind - the field finally made contact. Of course another guy jumped immediately, the field ignored him, and he won the upcoming prime. A couple more primes kept the pace up and we were into the endgame of the last few laps.

Thankfully, the pace never really dropped, things were kept reasonably strung out, we had put the hurt no some of the weenie riders and it was pretty easy to move to the top few riders when we heard the last lap bell. Five riders took off, I tagged on but got gapped slightly and was never able to close. Amazingly, two of the riders ahead blew up, and after negotiating past them, I was 5th wheel into the last corner. The rider in third then spectacularly failed to read the bend and headed straight for the curb, a couple of us were forced to brake check to avoid him and his sketchy recovery and that was the end of that. A line of fresh riders flew past me on the inside and I wasn't able to wind it up to speed again.

As predicted, Stan, Stan the Sprinter Man won the race (and the omnium overall) with embarrassing ease.

Carlos - GC threat!
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There were a couple of riders marking me during the crit. While I'm complimented by being considered a GC threat, why on earth would anybody bother marking someone who has never even gone top 15 in a crit? Why would you blow your wad chasing me down? Shouldn't you be letting me die out there, or trying to bridge up to start a break? Are you surprised when you blow up in the final lap, but not before giving a free leadout to a rider who has never lost a crit?

When one starts the race in first in the omnium standings, shouldn't one try to hold on to first? Keeping the race together meant conceding the win and the overall to the best sprinter in the field. Why not work to drop him? As it was, the marking didn't work too well - I was ahead into the last corner. If I had sat on for the full duration, instead of vaingloriously trying to race, I'd have been relatively fresh and maintained my lead - the odds are you'd have been bumped down even more.

That's how I remember it anyway.

That's cat 4 racing. My regret is not attacking more. The one place I should have attacked, but didn't, was over the top of the steep hill on lap 2 of the road race. It was the only part of the race where I went to the back to rest for a bit. Both the top 2 Omnium guys had been dropped and we allowed them to catch back on. Had I been able to fight my way to the front in time and pushed the pace for a minute, they would have been dropped to minor placings. With a conservative crit ride I could then have won the overall rather handily. But if you ever see me sitting in for the sprint, please shoot me.

Anyway, I was hoping to win enough to cover gas money and a six-pack. I failed. I need to drive a Prius and develop a fondness for PBR.

Some conversations:

Racer One: "I've seen you do that off the front thing in other races as well. Why do you do that?"
Carlos: "I'm not a sprinter. It's a race. You're supposed to race"
Racer One (with confused expression) : "Oh?"

Racer Two: "Those were some really strong pulls you took in the road race yesterday"
Carlos: "umm.. They were attacks actually" - (hangs head in shame and slinks away)

IL State RR - O'Fallon Grand Prix



O'Fallon Grand Prix - Illinois State RR Champs
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After the Cat 4 fiasco of last year, and the predicted record temps for today, I wasn't too keen on doing this race. But it being only 3 hours away and being the State Championship, and being exceedingly well-organised, I felt obliged to support it. So off to O'Fallon I went, albeit somewhat unenthusiastically.

I got out of bed... many didn't.

It wasn't a strong field that lined up for our 2 lap, 50 mile race. Noone particularly strong from Chicago, bar one guy who I had been told was a good crit rider. I didn't know the STL guys, but there were 5 from Momentum and they're always strong riders with usually one good sprinter hidden in there somewhere.

We lined up, received the usual centerline and no passing the pace car orders and were off. Just after the first corner, into a mild grade, I took off. It wasn't planned but I often do this to test the legs - it acts as a good opener - and here I hoped to set the tone for the race with a fast tempo from the gun. I got a good gap, was able to choose my lines around a few corners and down a descent and settled into fast TT mode - on the edge of getting out of sight, out of mind. The legs didn't feel good though, I just wasn't spinning freely. After a couple of miles I noticed a rider trying to bridge up, I was happy to slow and wait for him, but the field sensed danger and closed him, and me down pretty quickly. Not to worry.

There was a solid crosswind on what seemed to be the majority of the course, so there was some guttering action going on. This made any break very hard to initiate, but at least it was pretty easy to move to the front if you wanted - it wasn't a popular position. The momentum guys went to the front and set a fast pace. I had a couple more digs when the pace slowed, but Momentum closed the gaps pretty quickly - I was guessing they were trying to set up a solo flyer of their own - anytime anyone tried to attack. They didn't attack, not sure what they were doing, but at least we managed to keep up a reasonable speed for the first lap. My attacks didn't get anywhere - legs never really opened up and I could feel the burn of the excess work, but I wasn't too concerned, my endurance is excellent these days and even my bad legs will usually get me to the end of the race in decent shape.

For the whole race I never dropped back further than about 8th place, and spent quite a few miles at or off the front. This costs a bit more energy, ut I felt it was worth it in that I could monitor any attacks, not get caught behind stupid crashes (which happened in 2009 in the last few miles), have a better choice of line through the 50 corners on the course and set tempo to suit myself if I wanted to. The other motivation for staying at the front was, after one hard effort I dropped to 2/3rds of the way back for a rest and the littering that was going on really got to me. Water bottles, half-eaten bars still in wrappers, used gels were being thrown into fields and ditches. Race organisers go to huge efforts to put on a much-needed road race and fools do their best to show disdain for our countryside and give killjoys an excuse to object to the running of the race next year. After bawling out a couple guys, I found myself starting to get really upset
about this, so I resolved to just ride near the front where I couldn't see the littering anymore and people might be a bit more interested in racing. I'm truly ashamed at the activity of some of my fellow riders - you know who you are!

We hit the feed zone at the start/finish line, I stayed to the left and out of the way, - you could have made a blooper highlight reel of all the missed hand ups - everyone was well-behaved and we sportingly regrouped to commence lap 2. The wind and temps had increased, it was over 100F on the road, and a lot of the fight had been knocked out of us. An unattached guy, I'm guessing a triathlete doing his first road race, took off at the same point that I attacked on the first lap. He wasn't going very fast, but we were going slower, and noone had any interest in chasing him down. I was sure that if I tried to bridge I'd get chased down, so if he felt he could solo 25 miles in that weather for the win I was happy to let him go for it. It took him quite a while to get out of sight, but out of sight he did go.

Strangely, all the Momentum guys retired to the back for the rest of lap 2. Not a lot happened. It was just too hot and windy. A couple of solo guys got bored and took long pulls, myself and a teammate got a good rotation going with two Team Mackers and started to make good time but noone else would pull through so we gave up after a few rotations. The single attack was from Todd from Team Mack, who took off over the top of a hill, put his head down and went for it. I was happy to let him go and did a false chase. Going fast enough to keep him in sight but messing with the tempo by doing a few false jumps out of corners and then soft pedalling a bit. If anyone wanted to catch him then they were more than welcome to come to the front and actually do some work. Todd wasn't able to last out there alone in the wind for very long and he came back to the group after a few minutes - but the increased pace and tempo changes had successfully burned off some of
the hangers-on.

Shortly after that we spotted the pace car up the road and we very gradually caught up to the solo guy, still plugging away optimistically. He had stayed out there for 15 miles. He then obligingly pulled us at a reasonable tempo for the next five miles or so.

By this time Death March 2011 was in full swing. The temp was hitting 105F on the road, we were all out of water, and the 100F wind was doing a fine job of parching us. The speed was getting slower, the wind was increasing - it just wasn't fun. I must have more Belgian in me than Spaniard - several times I contemplated calling it a day and just finding a nice shady tree to embrace and rest under. But then I started to notice the ever increasing tide-lines on the bibs of some of the other riders, even over a few minutes the extra salt loss could be seen. I looked around, some guys already had goose bumps. I was still sweating, had a couple of gulps of water left and my heart rate was under control - others were suffering more than me. What would Sean do? Gut it out - that's what!

About 2.5 miles to go we hit the last right hander on the course. I knew it was long straight to a windy descent, then on to the last hill and the turn onto the final straight. As we made the turn a gap formed and 6 riders went clear, I started to jump but felt, for the first time ever, my calves starting to cramp. I let a couple others come around me, jumped onto the back of them and closed to the first group. I shouted at the leaders to punch it, we did, and after a short effort the moto came around to sit on my wheel. Now we were ten, and with one slight acceleration had shed the rest of the field.

We kept a fast tempo, everyone's mind on the tactics for the finish. Some just hanging on, some waiting for the sprint, some planning to attack on the hill. Down into the valley we swooped, me at the back, and kept up the speed on the approach to the hill - too fast for me to make up any places. We hit the base of the hill and the group imploded. Gears grinding, pedalling squares, cursing. I worked my way gingerly up the white line, making my way past the popping riders, trying to get to the front before anyone got away. A big Team Mack guy had the same idea but decided to take route one into third place. The moto wasn't having any of this and, rather bizarrely, veered into the pack, grabbed the guy and told him he was DQ'd. This is with 700 m to go. It took a few seconds to negotiate past the slowing moto and confused Macker, with some riders forced to trackstand, and this gifted the front two a nice gap.

I hammered for all I was worth, but rounding the last corner with 500 m to go I was in third place, with 3 riders on my wheel, two of which had spent the full race in the back and out of the wind, and a good 4 second gap to the first two. I could have flogged myself silly to catch them but would then have been worthless in the sprint, as well as dragging up fresh riders to jump around me.

One of the first two was from STL, the 2nd was unattached, so the only choice was to concentrate on winning third place and hope none of those ahead were from Illinois.

400 m to go, I take a couple of seconds breather and then do a half-assed jump, two riders bit on it and came around. The second guy was whupped and couldn't pass, I tucked in behind the first, recovered for a second and started to come past as he faded rather quickly. Fooled you!

Then James Psimet, who definitely had done less work than anyone else in the race - it must have been a phenomenally boring 50 miles for him - flashed past. He got a good jump and a couple of bike lengths on me. But I still had 150 m to reel him in. This I duly did. I hammered as hard as anyone who's ever done a gruelling fifty miles in 100F has ever hammered, caught him with 20 m to go and beat him to the line by a full wheel, my 32 spoke box section rims to his fancy deep section carbon - didn't even have to use my bike throw!

As all this was going on I somehow was able to take in the sprint for first unfolding 60 yards ahead. The unattached guy got a nice gap then did something I have never seen a cat 2, 3 4 or 5 do. He did a backwards sprint - heading for the line, but looking back all the time, and whenever his chaser tried to close he simply accelerated just enough to maintain a nice 3 bikelength gap. The guy was ostensibly a cat 5 in his first race ever race, but it was pretty clear from the rather comfortable manner of the win that he had raced at an elite level at sometime in the past. You see this every now and then and USA cycling will never bother to be concerned about it. All the more reason to try harder and get enough points to upgrade.

Oh well! Turns out the unattached winner was from Chicago and thus claimed the jersey. Giving a State champ jersey for a developmental cat is a joke anyway. I wasn't too worried about that.

It would have been nice if the moto hadn't intervened to decide the first two places. Would have been great to contest the win, but that's racing. Stuff happens.

Pretty sweet that I was able to put in multiple attacks and chases in 100F temps and 15 mph wind, work hard at the front all day and still have enough left at the end to handily win the chase group sprint over a couple of (relatively) fresh-as-a-daisy riders at the end. That's encouraging.

Full credit to the organisers for a superbly-run day. Volunteers everywhere, great atmosphere and hotly-contested racing (pun intended). With the limited # of motos available it was a great idea for each pack to be joined by a moto for the last few miles - definitely made things safer and improved rider behaviour. Also, the additional 3 miles to each lap definitely made a difference. There were a couple more passing opportunities, and the extra 20 minutes of racing really starts to separate the men from the weenies when races do go over 2 hours in length.

It seems that if I dampen my expectations I tend to do better. I started the day with limited enthusiasm but came home with a solid result, some upgrade points, two nice medals (state and overall) plus enough $$$ to cover gas money and a six-pack. I'm happy.