Great Western Trip: part five, Everest Challenge day two (contd)

Here we are on Death Valley Road:

was it hot?  you bet it was.  I was grabbing every bottle I could and showering with them as often as possible.

This was a particularly weird part of the race, since it traditionally is the shortest climb of the day's three.  This is due to the arbitrary nature of where they put the turnaround.  At some point, however, someone decided that we "must" have even more climbing so the decision was made to lengthen the second climb.  They pushed the official turnaround 1.5 miles further up the road.

Official.

Well, it didn't quite work out the way they planned.  It all comes down to communication, and the folks in charge of setting up the turnaround didn't know exactly where to set up, so they chose a spot....

FIVE

miles

further.

ouch.

Needless to say, there was a lot of "where the hell is the turnaround?"  but it did finally come.  Of course, now the second climb was every bit as long as the first one!

The third climb, however, was the "big" one.  Ha-ha.

As if climbs lasting an hour and half are not big.  No, seriously, the third climb on day two is ridiculous.  It gains over 6000 feet, tops out over 10,000, and has some of the steepest grades in it.  Not only do you have to deal with endless undulations of little dips followed by double-digit ramps, but near the top, above 8000 feet, you have sections that are several miles long averaging 9% or more!  I think my time on climb three was well over two hours.

At this point we are less than halfway up on the third climb:

And here we are about 3/4 of the way up, on a nice little 15% ramp at high altitude:

And, getting near the top, over 9000', with about a mile and a half to go.  The grimace was very real.  Of course, right now I am pushing as hard as I can and putting out about 150 watts doing it.  Welcome to crackville.

And we finally finish.  Day two was around 6:25.  I was tenth.  Also tenth on GC, good for $20 and a finishers t-shirt as well as a little medal.  I plan to mount the medal.

Here's day one's ride

Day two

and the descent from the finish back to Big Pine valley (where it was 104˚)

A fun descent,  I managed to get pretty high on the leaderboard for that one, even taking it easy!

Denouement

It's hard to find excitement in the ensuing week after such an event.  I wanted to see Yosemite, but only had half a day, so I drove around there and did not take any pictures.  (next time!)

Then a marathon drive to Utah, followed by a ride on a beautiful island on Salt Lake...

Where you can ride with Buffalo who come right out into the road!   Watch for chips though.

After that, things got different.  Driving over the Great Divide was weird.  The temperature dropped to nearly freezing and the wind (where I stopped in Cheyenne) was such that my car was getting blown around even while parked!

It never warmed up much again as I continued Eastward, until finally returning to cloudy rainy New York, but appreciating the fall colors here.  (They don't have them like we do, anywhere!)

Will I do this again?  The short answer is yes.  The long answer is:  It depends on how many people buy furniture or how many commercials I can do. 

I am glad I did it though.

Thanks for stopping by.

Great Western Trip: part four, Everest Challenge day two

Day two.  I slept well.  Mentally recovered from yesterday's loss.  Physically....well...let's just say that my legs were quite aware of what they had done the day prior.

But we were mainly in good spirits, for it being 40 degrees or so!

Steve is on the right, me in the middle, and the guy in red is one of the hammers who was ripping my legs off the day before.  I expected more of the same today!

We roll out:

at this point, a percentage of the field have already given up after day one, and only 11 of us remain.

After what had happened yesterday, I made the decision that if Steve were to drop back from this group for any reason, I would sit up and wait.  There was no way I was going to be competitive at this point, and even if I were able to hang with the leaders on the first climb, the likelihood that I would crack badly later on in the race was high.  I felt it would be best for us to stick together, and I figured his endurance was also going to exceed mine once the hours piled up.

So, we did the rest of climb one together:

And the descent.  My only real chance to stuff my face with food!  Eating at 40mph.

He looks like a bike racer, and I look like a bike eater.

I did actually finish eating and get back to going fast at some point!

(TBC)

Great Western Trip: part three, Everest Challenge day one

So, another 5 hours in the car and I arrive in Bishop, California.

the view out of the car window on the way

Bishop is situated in a valley between the eastern slope of the Sierras (which we climb on day one) and the White Mountain range (day two,) forming a wall between us and Death Valley (yes, the real one.)

I met up with Kim and Steve on the way, and we formed a two-vehicle caravan for the trip, as we were going to share a hotel room, and I needed the help in avoiding getting lost!

Kim was essentially the most important person to me that weekend, as, in addition to being one of the official photographers for the event, was driving support for Steve and I (this is another reason why I raced in the cat 3 as opposed to the Masters.)

You cannot do this race without support.  I would start the day loaded with bottles and food, and then take two feeds of full musette bags as well as two or three additional water feeds for each stage.  Kim would drive to various good locations to take pictures, and then be there when we needed her for feeds!

THANK YOU KIM

(All of the following photos taken of us at the actual event are ©Kim Weixel, 2012)

Stage One

This thing starts early!  We had to get up at 5:30 in order to make the 7:20 start time.  Riding from the hotel to the start made sense, since we were going to catch a ride back in Kim's car after the stage was over.  Unfortunately, Steve flatted on the way to the start, and we had to make an emergency call!

Sometimes you cut things close.  This one went down to the SECOND, as just about the time Steve tightened the skewer on his replacement wheel, they blew the whistle and we were off..

I tried to lead the first climb as much as I could, mainly to keep the pace DOWN.  There were some awfully strong guys in this small field, and I didn't want them to push it too hard, at least for as long as I could.

It's a long climb, and this is probably almost and hour into it.  Steve has dropped off, and there are only ten of us left.  We are high enough that things are getting cold again.  The pace was tough, but I kept up with these guys until almost the top.

But, as we approach 10,000 feet, we hit a steep ramp of 15% or so, and the leaders punch it.  I have to relent and drop off the pace, losing maybe a minute or so by the time I reach the top.  Kim is camped out almost at the summit taking pics, and I ask her how far back Steve is.  The decision is made to keep pushing rather than sit up as I think I have a decent shot at catching them on the long descent and ensuing flat section.  I take the descent as fast as possible...

Every now and then, on this very long descent, I can see the little group in the distance.  I put my head down and keep going for more speed.  Speed!  Speed! Speed!

whoops..

(I think I was supposed to turn left back there)

(yeah)

(I am way off course)

So I stop.  I get out the phone and call Steve.  Turns out I went 3.5 miles past the turn and have to climb all the way back in order to get back on course.  So much for being in contention.

I lost 25 minutes or so from my detour and went to nearly last man on the road in our field.  Steve was now way ahead of me so there was no chance of me catching up to him.  I ride the rest of the day alone, dejected.  It's amazing how this sort of thing can affect your power output as well.  From that point on, I stopped at every feed to rest a minute rather than just taking quick feeds.  I just wanted to finish and think about tomorrow.  Final time: 7:16, for 12th place.  meh.

They had a nice spread of hot food up there.  I took my shoes off and let my aching feet get a breather, had about as much soup as I could, and then we packed ourselves into the Mini and drove back to the hotel.  Tomorrow's a new day, even if I am "out" of the running now.

(TBC)

Great Western Trip: Part two

I had about five days to hang out in Cali before the race would begin.  Some of it would be spent training, but most of it would be spent just "vacationing" and dilly-dallying.  If I had thought to take more pictures, you'd be able to see them here, so just imagine that I did.

Tell you what, I will just steal some and pretend I took them...

I did take this one:  Ever wonder where those panoramic shots on Google Maps come from?  At some point (when it is updated) you'll see my car in one of them!

That's the Westlake Blvd exit in Thousand Oaks.

The first day, I decided to hit a few of the known favorite climbs in the T.O. area, including the famous Rock Store climb they had in the Tour of California a few years back.  It's not ultra-steep or ultra-long, but you definitely feel it!

That wasn't quite enough, so I went on to descend and then climb Decker Canyon:

here is that ride.

On the second day, I drove up to Santa Barbara to meet Steve Weixel..

He and I are planning to ride EC together in the cat 3 so we met up for some mountain training near his place.  Of course he's ridden these mountains (in his back yard) 300 times or something, and I have only done them once!

Here's what one of them looks like on the way down:

and the complete ride, La Cumbre Peak 2x

I followed these two climbing days with a couple of days of easy riding to complete the taper for the weekend.  Next stop, Bishop, California and Everest Challenge!

(TBC)

Great Western trip, part one

As some of you may know, I spent most of the past three weeks on the road.

It was iffy whether I was going to be able to do it.  The trip cost too much.  Finding the time wasn't easy,  although possible.  The main focus, however, was the Everest Challenge Stage Race which I had been hemming and hawing over earlier in the season.

I tested my "long days of climbing" ability back in mid summer with my Tour De Stupid Part One, One and a half,  and Two.  Success at those rides would mean Everest was a possibility.  Otherwise I might as well forget it, since it represents just about the toughest thing one can do on a bike, short of something like RAAM or a Grand Tour.

They were tough, but I finished, and in so doing managed to be first American to finish the Rapha Rising Challenge on Strava.

Everest Challenge would be far more difficult because A: it's a race, B: you climb considerably more, C: those climbs take place on gigantic mountain passes and D: it reaches elevations exceeding 10,000 feet!

So I knew that I would have to drive instead of fly, needing to spend some time at elevation and find some hard mountains to climb first.  My sister lives in California anyway so I might just find a way to have a little vacation in this as well!

The first two days were driving, driving, and some more driving.  I live in the car.  I drive the car.  I sleep in the car.  I eat in the car.  I see dogs driving cars.

And I see, for a few seconds, the Mississippi River

wow.

well, not wow, but at least I am making good time for the West.  By the end of day two (and 31 hours of driving) I am close to my first destination, Grand Mesa Colorado.  This is a little-known place in the Western Rockies that features two things I need.  First off, a campground to stay at which is above 10,000' (It ended up being 10,300) and secondly, a road that climbs all the way up to it.

It really did.  All THIRTY miles of it.  A 30 mile climb, for those of you who have never done one (hah!) took me nearly 3 hours to complete.  The descent took over an hour!  Check it out here.

and a few shots of what it looks like looking down from the Mesa:

And here's the summit, with my bike in the view:

Elevation: 10,839


After a couple of days in this wonderland, I hit the road again, making a beeline for the California coast.


On the way, in Utah, some beautiful rock formations making me wish I had a real camera:

and a dust storm near Death Valley which obscured the entire mountain range in the distance:

But I made it through, finally arriving at my sister's place in California after some 15 hours in the car!

Next up, final prep for the big race!

(TBC)

Green Mountain Stage Race

While I am sitting here recovering from the last 4 days I figured I should make a report, since the memories are still somewhat fresh in my mind.

The GMSR is just about the toughest stage race in the Northeast, due to the level of competition.  There are other events which have more difficult terrain (Catskills) but this one is considered a "top prize" and hence brings out the best competitors in every field.

The men's 40+ was no exception this year.  The field was far more stacked than it was last year, with 65 riders in total and quite a few of them were cat 1s.  I was wondering if we would see a reprise of the Verge vs. Finkraft battle that we saw at Catskills, but this time only Roger Aspholm's Finkraft team brought a full squad.  I figured they would have the best shot at winning this one.

Stage one is a short time trial that begins with a rather difficult climb.  They disallow aerobars, so you have to race your road bike, although you can use disc wheels and trispokes and funny helmets and all that stuff.  I, of course, used every bit of aero gear I had, since once you crest the top of the hill, you still have about half of the remaining time to spend going super-fast on the slight downhill and flat to the finish.  This made the bike a few pounds heavier but I felt it was going to be faster overall.

My climbing rate was good, and it looked like I might catch my :30 man on the hill (my 1:00 man wasn't that far ahead either!) but once we crested the top, he proved very difficult to reel in.  I chased him literally until about 800m to go.  Catching him just before the short kicker to the finish gave him an extra motivation to catch me back, and we crossed the line pretty much at the same time.  I never saw Mr. 1:00 again.  I assume that he gained back the time I got on him on the flat.

My time was about 30 seconds faster than the previous year, but it still only got me 48th place out of 64.  It would have been pretty close to the top in the cat 4 race, better than midpack in the cat 3, but the 40+ had a huge list of riders who were sub 15:00 on this course.  I was clocked at 15:54 (although that was a bit long, my own timing was a few seconds faster, as was Strava)

Hopefully everyone had the same offset.

Stage 2 was the one that worried me the most.  I felt that if I could get through stage 2 at this event, I would be OK for the rest of it, since I have traditionally had the most difficulty with the large circuit races where the speeds are fast and the fields are large and aggressive.  Form has been pretty good recently though, and I made sure to stay alert at all times to keep from being caught in the back when an attack came.  We caught all of the breakaways that spent most of the race off the front, save a two-man final effort that took off about 4 miles from the finish and stayed away for 1-2.

The remaining field set up just about the biggest and craziest field sprint I have been a part of in a long time.  I was careful not to mix it up, stayed seated, and rolled in right behind Roger Aspholm for a 52nd place finish (doing 35mph without even sprinting!)

So, with that out of the way, I was a bit more relaxed for stage three.  In fact, I was never really in trouble for the first 60 miles of that race, even taking the reins myself for a bit to assist in chasing down one of the many breaks that went.  At the intermediate KOM, we crushed it with such a speed that my Strava segment place on that one is still on page one, and I was in the back!

Lots of fast surges made for a tough day in the saddle.  I only brought two bottles with me, counting on the neutral feed near the end of the race.  What I did not count on was the attack that came directly at the feedzone.  I had to forget the feed, move back over, and then chase with all I had all the way to the top of Baby Gap (the first of two major climbs) in order to catch the field.

Once I caught back on, they had slowed up in anticipation of the final climb.  Nobody was off the front, and the big mountain was going to determine the winner.  I had burnt my last match in my chase though, and was dehydrated and angry that I had to give up on the bottle just to stay in the race.

I gave it my best shot, but it wasn't going to happen.  As hard as I could pedal turned out to be tempo power at best, and I made it to the top, losing over 5 minutes to the winner.  Pretty astonishing how much time you can lose like that.

The scene at the top of App Gap.

I did not let it bother me though.  With as many problems as I had been having with my C7 nerve pinch and back/shoulder/neck/arm issues related to it, I have to be happy just to finish races.  To finish them under these circumstances is even better and I was happy.  I filled my bottles, drank a lot, and then bombed the descent of App Gap back to the start area so fast that I passed every car on the way!

The final day is a crit in downtown Burlington.  I figured it was going to be tough for me, since with a course that is this technical, you cannot be stuck behind other riders who open up gaps.  That means being very aggressive early and getting in front of them before they can drag you down to Davy Jones' Locker.

It didn't work.  These are some of the finest crit guys in the Northeast, and they set a pace that was faster than every single race of the day, with the only exceptions being the P1 race and the juniors.  26.6mph average.  When the split happened about 5 riders in front of me, I gave it all I had, but the field was already out of reach.

I lasted just about half of the race until they pulled me.  I was not happy to get pulled, but very thankful that the officials were generous about awarding people GC places even if they didn't quite make it to the halfway point.

final tally:  43rd on GC of 52 finishers, of 64 starters.  9:39 down on Roger Aspholm, the multi-year winner of this event.

Perhaps next year I can finish the crit.  I know I have the strength to do it.  I just need to stay away from the wrong end of the splits.  I think I'll pack a third bottle in the jersey next year and chuck it away at the feedzone instead of trying to feed on stage 3.

Lewisburg Sprint Triathlon

This year I have sort of kept up with my running while trying to become a bike racer.  This has some disadvantages, and actually starting this week, I am going to begin to separate the sports into little seasons with some base building in between for both.  But, being ready for two sports has advantages too, and this year that advantage has been triathlon.  It is worth noting that I have completely avoided swim training as well, and it has cost me... next to nothing.  Apparently, I have one swim speed and outside of any effort that would cripple my other training, I don't see myself improving much there.  So I bagged the swim training again and ultimately lost about 5 seconds (only a 300 yard swim) to last year's time.

Once on the bike, I felt pretty fast.  I passed a lot of people.  I had a nice 21.4 average for a rather "on and off" sort of course.  Fortunately I was passed by one biker.  I say fortunately because this guy became a carrot to chase, not just for the second half of the bike, but for the entire run.  He did beat me, but I think his pacing, way out there albeit, helped motivate me to be where I needed to beat three others behind me by about 20 seconds or less.  This is a staggered start tri, so when on course, you really have no idea where you are place-wise.

The run was solid, about a 6:27 mile average for 3.25 miles.  Weird distance, yes, but that is the posted distance (and this is a weird triathlon).  Both my bike and run were triathlon bests for me, and I finished 4th in a field of 254.  So that pretty much wraps up anything with a bike for a while as I attempt to take my 5K ability up a notch for the next six weeks.  I will be at Thater racing in the 4/5, but that will be the only time my butt will see a bike from now until October.

I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone on the RUUD team for welcoming me in this year.  It has been a lot of fun riding and racing with you all and I have learned a great deal.  Very excited for next year already!

A bunch of races. A pile of training.

At times it is trying.

I race in difficult fields.  Even when they don't go "fast" there always seem to be twenty guys who win all the time in every race I do.  It's the same cast of characters (as I am starting to recognize the names every time and even strike up conversations with folks I see often.)

But it does make it tough to finish well.  Certainly, winning seems far off.

So I have to be content with whatever little personal achievements I can muster.  Sure, I could race "down" and stick to doing cat 3/4 and cat 3 races from now on (where I would stand a better chance of doing well) but, fundamentally, it's not why I do this.

Hilltowns is the Massachusetts State Championships, and attracts a gigantic crowd of top-level racers every year.  This was my third time.  I had been 41st and 37th before, never quite making the selection on the huge climb of East Hawley Road.

This time, I resolved to not worry about it, and just ride my pace if I got separated from the leaders there, and then let the chips fall where they may.  I think it was the right choice, since I set another 20' seasonal PR on that hill, and ended up in a rather large group of riders who stayed together until the final climb.  I still had something left in the tank to finish strong however, and got away from them with three other guys to contest the sprint.  Since results were not posted until several days later I was thinking I had my best finish yet there.  This didn't happen however (possibly due to the larger field this time) and I was 42nd.

Sigh.

So, the next day arrives.  I am still feeling good about Hilltowns (not knowing yet just how many riders were up the road) and come to the NY State TT with a clear head and a positive attitude.  My legs, however, never showed up.

This wasn't all that surprising.  I've been in the midst of a gigantic training buildup over the past several months, and am rather used to racing with a certain degree of fatigue.  This is intentional, but the load placed on my legs from my record-setting hill climb the day before was palpable.

The result was that I was caught in a personal no-mans'-land between spinning too small a gear, and trying like crazy to push a bigger gear, only to have the legs simply tell me they couldn't do it.  Add the not inconsiderable headwind on the back leg of the TT, and the result was a very tepid pace, perhaps 1:00 or more slower than I am capable of on a peak performance.

I've learned how to squeeze as much speed as possible out of poor performances this year however, mainly from positional discipline and choosing the right times to go hard, rather than trying to stay on power target all the time.

I get to the finish, having passed no-one, and having been passed by no-one.  (I had a huge gap of 1:30 in front of me as two riders failed to show at the line.)  One rider flatted, which meant there were only three of us left.  I asked the rider who I felt the most dangerous what his stopwatch said and we compared numbers.

Hmm... maybe I do have a shot at this after all....

With renewed energy I returned to the parking area and awaited the official results, a bit more confident that I would score at least silver and maybe even win it.  All depended on how the official times turned out.  They post.

And...

They screwed it up, badly.  over half a minute was added to my time and I was given 3rd.  I returned to the start area to file a protest and show them my GPS.  Then I must have ridden over some glass as my brand-new tubular blew open.  Then I spend about 20 minutes going back-and-forth with the official scorer who seemed unwilling to accept the fact that his system wasn't working properly.

The only answer he was able to give was that ALL of us had the same error applied to our times and therefore, the time differentials were accurate.  (of course, this could not be true, since many people who I asked had accurate times posted)

Whatever.  I accepted my bronze medal and went home.

Still not certain how I was going to feel I decided at the last minute to do Capital Region.  I knew it was going to be most of the same top-level guys that I saw at Hilltowns, and so my goal was to make it to the end with the (likely to be small) main field.

I have never accomplished that.  Capital has a horrible steep wall that comes up right after a sharp hairpin from a fast descent.  Suddenly you have to stand up and mash your smallest gear over 20%+ grades on switchbacks.  The guys with the strong legs who can repeat those efforts do well at this.

I made it the first time.  The second time, not quite, and then spent the third lap off the back with a (still strong) group plowing away through the (sometimes intense) rain and came in 24th.

With nearly 40 at the start, and 60 total including the 50+ men, 24th wasn't terrible.  I think a third or more of the field DNF on this one, possibly due to rain.

When I got home, I poured about a beer glass worth of water out of the seat tube.

So, once again, I have to be content with little gains on the way.  A few small power increases.  A bit of extra endurance.  A few places better than times before.  A little higher ranking.  (I have managed to be the 715th ranked cat 3 in the country by racing against such stiff competition)

I figure, eventually, I'll be strong enough to really mix it up with these guys, but for now, I guess it's all about the little things.  These weekends are not always so good for my confidence, but I am signing up for Catskills anyway, and keeping realistic views of the long-term improvements that are really the main focus.

Michelob Ultra Road Race

As a sort of sharpening attempt for the Tour of the Catskills, I selected this 20 mile citizen's race and entered the A field.  I also decided to do the 5K an hour beforehand.  I have never attempted this combo in this order, but it worked out well.  The 5K was controlled, a nice workout, I tried to run about 6:20 splits the whole way and I did just that.  Ran 7th overall, 19:21, got an age group award.  I haven't run many 5K's at all this year so it was nice and a good primer for a big running only training cycle coming up in September!

I then went out in the bike race and hoped for the best!  It was pretty mild for most of the way.  The team time trial (the first event of the day) seemed to slow the field.  There was a team of about seven guys and only five others in this race , and no one really pushed.  It is a fairly tough course to take off on anyway as it is dead flat and straight (I am sure it was an excellent time trial course).  Then it started pouring, and we cruised along pleasantly, aside from being drenched, for 15 miles.  Then there were attacks, chases, etc...  I chased one down, as with an uphill finish, I knew I at least had a shot in a bunch sprint if I could keep everyone together.  Ultimately, one of the Once Again guys led out their strongest (I assume) rider and he won.  I wound up 3rd, two tenths of a second off of 2nd and maybe the same distance ahead of 4th.  I was content with the finish and happy to wind up with two medals on the day. 

Also, having not done this before, I can say it is WAY easier to run then bike than the reverse!

The weekend of wind and heat.

As Chris already described in the last post, the Empire Classic (on saturday) wasn't exactly as advertised.  The only real differences in the 1/2/3 race were that the pace set by the hard men going up that steep wall was way too much for me, and we had to do it ten times to finish this one.

1 minute anaerobic power has generally been my weakest area, and had this race been as advertised, I don't think it would have been an issue.  As the race was in reality however, it became the most important area.  I crushed my personal record by 25 watts to set a new record of 7.77 w/kg.  That wasn't even enough to maintain pace with the leaders and I had to chase back on.

After looking at the Strava files for some of those who ended up ahead of me, it appears that they never took it quite that hard on subsequent laps, but it was still hard enough to cause total destruction of the field by the middle of lap two.  I ended up in the gruppetto of riders who were pretty much out of contention, but hoping to finish anyway.

We picked up a few more on the way and at one point probably represented the greatest percentage of riders in the race, but the wind and heat was just way too much for a lot of guys, and many dropped out as we passed the start-finish line.

By the time we had completed the ninth lap, there were only 5 of us left.  3 hours into the race, and pretty far behind the leaders, the judges decided to stop us at 9.  There was a bit of resistance to that (as we were not really in danger of getting lapped) but I understood the reasoning behind it, especially as the marshalls would have to deal with another 20 minutes of heat and impatient motorists.

I'm not exactly sure how the scoring worked out, but I think I ended up 17th out of 29.  meh.

It didn't bother me all that much, since the cast of characters up the road was pretty much stacked with strong 1s and 2s who are well known around here, and even as far away as Ohio.

Fast forward to day two, and I woke up pretty well rested after such a hard race.  I wasn't sure if my legs were up to the challenge of another hard effort in the wind and heat, but I was willing to give it a shot.

The East Aurora Time Trial is 13.4 miles, a circular course (not an out-and-back) with a pretty large amount of elevation gain for a TT that is not specifically a climber's TT.  That basically means a hard effort, and pacing is going to be tough to figure unless you know the course.

Which I did not.

So Pete and I rode the course twice.  Once at warm-up pace, then once again for the real deal.

And it's a damn good thing we did.  Crit corners on a TT bike!  Twisties!  Multiple chances to take wrong turns!  Ups!  Downs!  Everything!

So, for the actual TT, my legs only partially showed up.  They weren't really producing the kind of power I'd expect if I were fresh (a three hour race in the heat the day before may have had something to do with this) and I averaged 10w below threshold.

The wind was brutal.  Mainly a headwind out, followed by a long crosswind section, short tailwind, then long crosswind section again.  The crosswinds were enough that you had to ride leaned over into the wind with the disc rear wheel.  That worked great until a large vehicle went by, and then you had to suddenly compensate for the quick turn your bike made into the vehicle!

I've done that plenty of times before however, so it didn't faze me too much.

I gave this one all I had, even sprinting the last 18 seconds to the line, and managed to get on the podium (3rd).

better.

Good thing I chose the masters 40+ for this one.  The cat 123 would have had me roughly in the same general area as the day before.

Saturday's Race

Sunday's Race

Empire Classic Road Race Cat 4

I decided to make an exception to my less than 1-2 hours of traveling for a race rule and do this race near Buffalo.  Brad Helmetsie also made it out for the 4 race and Andrew Williams was signed up for the 10 lap 1-2-3 race.  The course was a 7 mile rectangle, which was repeated 5 times for the cat 4 race.  There was some debate about how hilly the course would be.  It seemed like there was some significant elevation change on each lap, but since it was confined to a small rectangle on the top of a ridge, we were hoping it would be "Big-ring" climbs similar to our own Binghamton Circuit, or the Corning Circuit at Watkins Glen.

Well, we were completely wrong.  The course actually was about a mile and a half of false flat, followed by a brief descent, and a sharp turn onto a wall.  To make matters worse the road was in horrible shape on the wall, so getting the right line going into it was important.  The backside of the course consisted of very fast rollers, followed by another descent and turn, followed shortly by a moderately long climb of about 6% or so.  Finally, after that climb, there was a slight decline before leveling back out to the the false flat that passed through the finish area.

The first lap hurt as I didn't get in much of a warm-up, but I was able to stay near the front of the pack.  The second lap wasn't quite as painful through the climbs, and I was happy to see that Brad was hanging in there so far, despite the walls, which aren't quite his cup of tea.  On the long climb at the end of the second lap, I settled into a nice rhythm, and found myself moving to the front of the pack.  I felt comfortable maintaining this pace, and the climbs are always easier if I can set the pace, rather than try to match others, so I just kept it up, and the next thing I knew I was cresting the top with quite a gap on the field.



One Corning rider bridged up to me so we settled in to a two-man rotation through the finish area.  Unfortunately, we didn't last long, and soon the entire pack was back with us.  They didn't surge past me like normally happens, though, so I got stuck pulling the peloton for a while.  I used it as an opportunity to set my own pace near the front going up the wall.  I still felt good even after these efforts at the front, although, I knew I should probably be conserving a bit more if I wanted to place well at the finish.  My efforts did seem to help in that respect to some degree, though, because the field of 20 was now down to no more than half that.  Unfortunately, my teammate Brad was among those missing.  (Sorry, Brad, if my efforts contributed to that).

The rest of the race played out with several riders attempting to break away from this smaller group.  We were able to reel them all in except for one strong rider that got a significant lead.  There seemed to be a lack of desire in our group to chase him down as well, so once again, I found myself pulling at the front more than I wanted to be.  On the last lap, I made sure to be at the front heading into the final climb, but one rider pushed hard and got a gap over me that I couldn't quite close.  As I tried, 3 more riders passed me, with 2 jumping on the lead guy lengthening their lead over us.  I then overtook the 3rd rider that passed me, as he tired.  Unfortunately, as we crested the climb, he was able to stick to my wheel, leaving me to pull him right to the finish and him go around me at the last second, which he did.  I sprinted but he got me by a wheel's length, so I finished in 6th place, scoring my second upgrade point ever (only 18 more to go before next Corning Circuit if I want to upgrade).


It wasn't until after this race that I realized that the rider off the front must've had several friends/teammates in our group, which is why they wouldn't chase.  Those guys that wouldn't work at all to chase were also the ones that got away from me on the final climb.  I'm not sure what I should've done had I realized all this during the race.  Ultimately it was a mistake to let the guy get away, but once he did, I should've realized what was going on and just forgotten about him.  Basically, I viewed him as points getting away up the road, but the fact of the matter is I wasn't going to reel him in by myself, and if I'd conserved more, I might've had 2nd or 3rd instead of 6th, so once again, lessons were learned in a road race, and I'm fortunate to be able to focus on these types of lessons...the ones related to strategy, and not just finishing with the pack or finishing in the top third, but how to race smart in order get on the podium.

The results are posted here:  http://jonrosensystems.com/computers/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/2012-06-30-Empire-Classic-r1-.html

Broome County Triathlon Surprise Race

It was a surprise and bitter sweet entry as it was supposed to be my wife's race but her nagging injury still has her sidelined.  I wish she could have raced it instead.  But I got out my wetsuit from its two year hiding spot and gave it a try.  I really relaxed the swim... a lot.  It helped...  a lot.  I came out of the water as if the race hadn't started yet.  On the flip side I was in about 60th place now.  Once I got on the bike, I really tried to work.  The course is tough.  It starts uphill then has a turnaround right on a downhill, more uphill, and then some flat (relief) for a while before the finish.  And I got a chance to test out my new aero helmet!

I had a bike split that averaged about 20.6 which is good for me in a triathlon, especially on this course, and a good two minute improvement over 2010.  Now I was in 8th place.  On the run, I just ran my usual triathlon leg, moderately suffering while remaining in control enough to not cramp or pass out.  I ran a 21:34 5K on a relatively tough course and wound up 5th overall.  A great day for me, considering especially, that this was not a pool swim triathlon, and by far my best ever open water tri!  So a nice surprise race I guess!  Hopefully my wife will be back hammering this next year though...

Congrats to our team participants yesterday and also to the Mission in Motion swimmers/riders/runners out there!

Corning Circuit Race @ The Glen cat 1/2/3

25th.  field sprint.

I've done this race three times now.  As one of the few 1/2/3 races I sign up for, it tends to be an exercise in human-powered motorpacing for me.  As such, I tend to be very conservative, depending on what is going on in the race and how I feel.

It took much longer than normal to warm up.  I suppose that might be due to taking friday off and then waiting until saturday evening (this is one of the few late saturday events for us lowly amateurs and ends right around sundown.)

After doing a whole bunch of laps of an impromptu crit course in the parking lot, including a few hot laps, I felt just about ready to take this one on.  We had a much larger field than last year, so it was self-evident that the pace would be faster, but my form has been pretty decent lately, so even though the course is just about the opposite of one that would be good for me, I felt somewhat confident.

As expected, things went fast right out of the gate, and the first time up the hill was pretty painful, with an initial surge of 600w and then maintaining a pretty fast clip all the way to the descent.  Again we hit the second hill hard, but the field slowed and spread out before the start-finish line and I noticed Yaco off the front.  I make a move to bridge, dragging one Minerva kid with me.  He hit the gas a bit too hard once he went around though, and gave me no help.  I crept up to the two of them on the descent leading into hill #1 again, thinking this might not be the best break chemistry.

I was right.  Minerva rider gave it too much on the climb, separating from Dave and me.  I look over my shoulder and see the field charging anyway so I sit up.  This early move was more of a leg-opener than a legitimate breakaway though.  I felt that I should sit in for a while and see how things go.

As expected, the pace at times was enough to put me into the red zone.  I didn't struggle to stay in contact, but it was tough to stay near the front, especially after the hill surges.  I figured it would be best to conserve energy and see how I stood for the finish (which I was wondering might be a field sprint)

At one point, a break appeared to have a good shot at staying away, containing one Borah rider and one other guy.  The pace in the field slowed up just enough that it seemed to have a shot, and for some odd reason, Corning (who had a large team but nobody in the break) did nothing to chase it down.  Maybe they were counting on some others to bring the two of them back as two riders is kind of small for a break to survive that long.

As it turned out, they made the correct choice.  Our final prime lap saw the catch of the breakaway, as well as lapping and passing the cat 4 field.  The lead riders of that field chose to ignore the rules and latch on to us however, causing a confusing and dangerous back-and-forth business for the rest of that lap.  We sat up and let them go by for their final sprint to keep things safe.

Now you could sense blood in the water, and the sprinters were all tightening up their shoes.  I knew it was going to be a pack sprint, and knew I had no chance whatsoever of a decent finish unless I picked the right wheel to follow for that 500m wide open headwind finish.

I didn't really know who to follow, so I surfed wheels for a bit, avoiding some jinky and jerky riders and finally settling on the outside.  It was a longer distance, but there seemed to be a clear channel.  I found a wheel, passed him, tried to lock on to another, lost him, and ended up just a bit too far back and the wind was on me.  25th place.  Wickham (excellent sprinter) got the home-field win for Corning and we all stayed upright.

Pretty fast race.  24.5 average speed on a course that is somewhere between 60 and 75 feet per mile, with some wind too!

http://app.strava.com/rides/11583753#

Otisco

What can I say?  I had a plan, I executed the plan, and I thought I had it all figured out, and I learned something new - as I do every time.  This time the lesson was to stay in front on a steep climb at all costs.  My PLAN was to go into the steep climb in the front and then do what I knew I could do - steady climb for 1K.  Unfortunately about 200 meters in, a gentleman, who took off extremely quickly on the hill came to an equally abrupt stop, turned in front of me, and fell over... the final touch was splaying out his body across the entire berm, leaving me with nowhere to go.  And I down I went.  So that was that.  I ran the bike uphill for about 200 meters, passed a few riders in the process, and then remounted to finish.  Had I started out way too hard, I probably would have recovered a bit better than the others and had a good, albeit unpleasant, finish. 

I still had a decent result on the hill, and I do have quite a bit of experience running hills, so it wasn't awful.  But, lesson learned.  You have to go when the race goes I guess, not always when YOU want to go.  Not the result I wanted, but most certainly my best, and smartest, race so far (with that one exception).  I am going to attempt to upgrade to CAT 4 now, and will try my luck in that division in the Catskills in six weeks. 

Adirondack Day 2: Saranac Crit

Crits have always been my worst event.

I've been in far too many races where I definitely had enough strength to hang in there, but ended up on the wrong side of a split or too large a gap and couldn't close it.  This form of racing is so different from the kind of stuff that we do in TVC.  You need to have the ability to do many repeated high-energy bursts in order to close gaps as they happen, and be willing to, at times, stick your elbows out and fight for your position.

So I resolved to improve my ability in these events, even though we just don't have any crits to practice on locally.

My solution:  Find a secret spot that's flat and has corners and practice doing standing-start VO2max intervals.  Start hard, clip in fast, and then go like hell for 3-5 minutes.   Learn how to go fast through the corners without freaking out or using extra energy.

Saranac is a weird course.  It's only half a mile long, has three corners, and is somewhat technical as well.  You climb only gradually, but the climbing ratio is above 50 feet per mile, so it's never flat.

Hence, gaps that open up, and are not immediately closed, tend to become larger very quickly, and being slightly off the back tends to become "being lapped" in short order.  In 2010, I got lapped and stayed in the race.  In 2011, I got dropped and pulled myself, being so disgusted with the rain and my dismal performance.

I was determined to make it to the end with the leaders this time, no matter what.   Hopefully my newfound form will show up too.

I start from the front, and nail the clipin (thank God!), slotting in midpack (only 20 of us anyway) for turn one.  Things are going brutally hard though, and those who missed their start are in serious trouble.  Gaps open up immediately, and I have to be alert.

Once around turn three I see a game-ender gap open up three riders in front of me.  I must not be here!

I stand up and literally sprint by all of them, grabbing the wheel of the last man in the front group.  Hey... I did it!

Now I understand what I have to do to survive this.

Of course, by now, there are fewer riders.  Only one or two laps into the race, and already the pack thins.  I begin to analyze which wheels are good to follow, and which ones are dangerous or slow in the corners, and try to find spots to move up.  I'm at a bit of a disadvantage power-wise against the big crit guys, but they tend to get tired, so I can zip past them at times and see if I can steal a wheel in front of them.

By the halfway point in this short track-like event, I sense the race is changing.  People are starting to trust most of the other riders, and are no longer desperate to move up.  I take advantage of this and try to find a middle spot where the corners will be smoother, with less sprinting necessary after them.

"I think I'm gonna make this one"

7 to go..

"I know I'm gonna make this one"

4 to go..

"fuck it, I'm gonna attack"

I blow by the front, hitting the corner at turn 3 at 29mph, hoping it made some difference, but looking behind me I see Olsen (current state champ) right on my wheel and the pack in tow.  I basically did nothing but pull them around on this lap.  I slow down after turn one, not wanting to help anyone.  A counter goes hard.  I have enough in the tank to answer it, but end up near the back of the pack (now maybe 12 riders).

things slow one last time with 2 to go, and I figure its gonna be a field sprint.  Not the best finish for me.  I ease up a bit and wait for a hole.  That hole doesn't come however, as we go strung out for the next two laps.  Another gap on the final lap and I have to jump across, but by the time I make contact, the winner is already across the line.

I soft pedal across the line for 6th in the 35+.  The scoring doesn't show the DNFs, or that it was combined with the 45+, but, in all honesty, I consider this my best crit finish ever, even better than the one BCR that I won in 2011.  I hung in there with some strong-as-hell cat 1s and 2s and was still with the leaders at the end.

Maybe once I learn a bit more about this odd kind of racing I can find a way to make my attacks more effective.

Adirondack Day One: Wilmington-Whiteface

I train hard.

And

I've been doing this pretty seriously for 4+ years now.  In all honesty, I probably race above my level more often than most.  What that means is I tend to rub shoulders with riders who are far stronger than me, choosing to race in open masters or even cat 1/2/3 races at times.

I think it's better to do that, provided you have a long-term view of development in this sport and are not swayed too much by getting humiliated at times (or even often!)

Hence, this season has been interesting.  Coming into it early as I usually do, I found myself up against some really strong fields in the masters (who clearly trained all winter long and came out swinging) and not much to show for it, save a few smaller races where I wasn't in the basement.  Discouraging.

So I took time to go back to training and changed my focus a bit.  I also changed my training style ever so slightly, making some nutritional changes as well.  The results have been very subtle, but noticeable as I seem to have a little more repeatability of the hard efforts now, and just a bit more ease during them (although I haven't been setting any power records, coming close to them though!)

Based on how I felt over the past week or so, I decided to sign up for the Adirondack weekend.  I went in with very few expectations.  If I ended up off the back, that's ok, since I am mainly focused on training right now.  If I ended up racing the race, then that's a good sign that the training is working.

Chuck and I were in the same race.  It's great to have at least one teammate with me in an event.  I used to do lots of races with Pete Hoag before he moved on, and it inspired me to do more, even if I was just helping him out.  Things started as expected, with the pace moderately fast, and the bunch riding rather nervously as many of the riders would fight for position, especially after the larger rollers on lap one.  Chuck was hanging in there with me, although we spent a bit too much time in the back.

The fast descents were my opportunity to move up, and I exercised that option as best as I could, jumping up to the top third of the field before the flat section leading up to the feedzone hill.  Swarms had me back to about midfield by the final corner, but they left me a spot to move up again and I hit the climb top 20 (out of maybe 50 in the field).

This climb hurts.  It always has.  It is just steep enough and just long enough to be a maximal effort, and you don't get a break once you crest the top, since it leads into a false-flat uphill into the wind where the attacks come at the feed zone (bastards!)

Each season I have had to go deep into the red on it.  This time (our first) up the hill, was different though.  I went around guys, I grabbed wheels, I listened to heavy breathing... all of the usual climbing stuff.

When, near the top, I realize... "hey.. I'm almost in the front of this group and I still feel pretty good here.  guys are dying all around me and I'm still OK"

(file that away under : form improving, finally)

Once we clear the zone, there are maybe 30 left.  I look behind me and I don't think Chuck made it.  Hopefully we will slow down (I've caught back on at this spot if it slows)  It's going to be the usual race of attrition and I intend to let the attrition happen and still be there for the finish.  Something is different on this second lap though.  We are going much faster than the first lap.  Once we get past the descents I realize what is going on.  Stretched out in front of our field is the entire 3/4 pack!  It's like a gigantic carrot for the folks in front to chase after.

I'm not really in favor of what they are doing, but have no choice but to simply follow as we pass the (now neutralized) 3/4 field only halfway through lap two.  Immediately the group slows for a moment, but some folks attacked right there (kind of a low-class move but what the heck) and we chase again.

They are reeled in within a few miles and we hit the feedzone climb for the second time.  Again, my form is showing me that I am one of the stronger in the group this time (and I am still kind of surprised by this).  Reglar attacks the feed zone.

Sheesh.  Why do they always attack the feed zone?

Anyway, Jon Gee and Todd Craig bridge up to him but the field seems uninterested in chasing at this point.  I suspect that their teams are effectively blocking and I consider the possibilities.

"hmmm"  "I feel pretty good today"  "maybe I should try to bridge up there"  "I don't know if I can make it"  "what if I burn a match and then go off the back?"  "I really wish they would just chase!"

Sometimes, Bueller, you just have to say..

What the fuck.

I attack.

I made it about halfway to the break.  Seems like I am going to be stuck out here for a while but plan B was to be close enough to compel them to chase after me, which they did.  I get swallowed back up by the (now faster) peloton and hope that they make it the rest of the way to the break.  Wrong.  Blockers come out again and we slow down.  Crap.

Not wanting to burn another match I decide to sit in.  The third time up the hill and I watch as Roger Aspholm (who's been sitting in all day, making us wonder just how recovered from his injuries he is) attacks the base of the climb, bridging all the way up to Reglar at a pace that nobody can even come close to.  I guess he's back.  You don't get to be National Champ three times without this kind of power.

I sit in.  The third time up is a block fest.  A few guys who are spent go OTB but I am nose-breathing by the feed zone.  Another good sign of form.

Once we are on the final run-in toward Whiteface I decide to lay my cards on the table.  I don't think I'm going to do well climbing Whiteface in a pack so I attack hard with about 3 miles to go before the climb.  My hope is that I can buy myself 20 seconds or so, and take advantage of that by climbing Whiteface at my pace.

Denied.  Roger's teammate Andreas (who was blocking) switches to chase mode and pulls them all back to me.  My matches are pretty much burnt at this point, but I did what I thought was best.  Whiteface started out OK, with me able to answer the few surges at the base and stay in the draft, but as things progressed my legs simply couldn't push anything more than my smallest gear.  I managed to keep threshold power up, but needed quite a bit more to keep pace on this 10 minute effort.

I cross the line last of the remaining bunch.  9th in the 35+

Not a stellar result on paper, but the important stuff happened on the road, and, for the first time, I felt like I was really racing the same race as these top-level masters monsters.  Let's hope the form continues to improve.

King Of The Glen

I was excited to learn that there would be a local mountain bike race this year.  Mountain biking was my original cycling sport, and now that I am a trained road racer, I've been wanting to try my hand at a MTB race. I did another local one a few years ago, but they quit having it a couple years ago, so I was quick to add the Annual Glen Challenge to my schedule when I learned of it.

Me navigating some mud during the run.

The event consisted of 3 different types of races:  A 5 mile trail run, cross-country mountain bike race, and downhill mountain bike race.  The main event for me was the XC race, however, there was also to be a King/Queen of the Glen competition based on points for those who competed in all three events.  I figured I'd go for it, but was a little nervous.  I'm an experienced trail runner, XC mountain biker, and pretty competent on gnarly downhills, but to go for king I was entering the Expert level  xc race, which was 13 miles -- long for a mountain bike ride, especially at race pace, and I wasn't sure how that would feel after running 5 miles.  Also, I can ride downhill fast, but I'm not a true downhiller, meaning, I don't hit jumps and ride over 4-6 foot drops, which this course did contain.  There were options to ride around these dangerous obstacles, but that would slow me down, so my goal was just to finish the downhill race with no expectations to place well.  I also knew they'd decided to make the course a "super-D", meaning it was a bit longer than a straight DH course, and had some climbing in the middle.  At least that would give me a chance to make up some time.

The start of the XC race

The run was first, and started out with a 1 mile uphill run on the road before turning into the woods.  I didn't push too hard up the road, but stayed pretty close to the front, knowing that once in the woods, it would be difficult to pass since the trails were very narrow.  Trails were marked very well, but that didn't stop several of us from getting lost.  A few tenths of a mile (of winding trail through the woods), I followed some people the wrong way and ended up back at the road where we started...ooops...now I had the task of making up time and having to pass everyone in the woods.  I pushed myself just shy of redlining and was able to finish in 5th place (darn! if I hadn't gotten lost, maybe I could've won), but feared I would pay for it in the next race.

Log Rollover in the XC

There were 3 fields for the xc race: beginner, sport, and expert. It was a mass start up a wide grassy path on a steep grade, making it a mad sprint to the trail (where it would be very difficult to pass). My legs definitely were feeling the run at this point but once we got in the woods and settled in I felt strong and quickly made my way to second wheel behind Jeff Walker, a very strong, experienced racer. The key to MTB racing similarly to 'cross racing is not only to go hard and never let up, but also to not make mistakes and get hung up on obstacles. Unfortunately, I did just that, getting caught on a steep in the wrong gear then hitting a root and going over the handlebars. This allowed Jeff to get away. I rode smoothly and pushed hard for the rest of the race but never saw him again. I was able to hold off riders behind me, though, finishing in 2nd about 3 minutes behind Jeff.

Cruising along in the XC

The downhill race was next. They pt us in order based on expected times with the serious downhillers first and most of us xcers towards the back. The event was run TT style with 3 minutes between riders. They also decided to give us each two runs to give us the fastest time of the 2. So, after hauling all 20 of us up the hill with our bikes in the back of a Ryder truck, the racing commenced.

Bombing the DH

Surprisingly, I was told I had the second fastest time on the first run. That was good enough for me, but I was even able to chop 6 seconds off on the second run. Turns out the super d aspect of the course gave the strong xc riders an advantage because we ended up taking the top 5 spots.

Coming out of the woods for the finish of the XC

In the end, I easily took the top overall honors and received the King of the Glen hoodie. The race was wonderfully organized by Dave Perry and the awards were great. In addition to the hoodie, I received a medal for all three races, two bottles of wine, cash, and some swag... Not bad!

King Of The Glen

Here are the complete results:  http://www.bikereg.com/Results/2012/05/26-glen-challenge.asp