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

Syracuse Cat 4 Road Race

Just a quick post about the Cat 4 Syracuse Road Race.  This was a 2 lap, 55 mile road race, likely making it the longest race I'll do this year.  The pack was 60+ in numbers, but I was able to maintain a position near the front for most of the race without actually doing much pulling.  After the initial climb and quick descent, the race is mostly flat for about 10 miles before turning into the hills.  As I'd suspected (and hoped) would be the case, nothing much happened on the first lap.  I was able to hold the leaders all the way through the climbs and into the second lap.  The race got stretched out a bit after the descent on the second lap.  This always happens at this race because it's a steep climb, immediately followed by a steep descent with a sharp right turn at the bottom, so the first few to make the turn always hammer hard and the rest are left scrambling to catch on.  I was doing this a little, but tried not to work too hard, because I knew it was more than likely we would all get back together.

The climbs on the second lap were a bit different.  There were some longer steeper sections instead of the shorter ones on the first lap.  The really steep wall was cut out, but it was more than made up for by the longer stretches of sustained climbing.  I fell off the back of the lead group a bit, but was able to bridge up near the crest of the climb.  At this point, 2 strong riders were off the front, and we had a group of about a dozen or so.  The group I was with didn't seem to want to work hard to either catch the two riders ahead or hold off the rest of the pack coming up from behind.  A couple more riders took advantage of this and got off the front.  Some riders in our group tried to get a rotation going, but others didn't want to pull.  I pulled through for my turn, not believing I had accelerated, but when I turned around, I was now off the front.  I debated whether to try to bridge up to the two riders ahead by myself or sit up and wait.  My legs were starting to cramp up, so I waited.   As it turned out, I only got assimilated back in with the pack when the rest of them caught on from behind and pulled the smaller group up to me.

The race was fairly flat from this point until the finish climb up Song Mountain Road, and my legs were continuing to cramp up bad, so I just sat in the pack near the back, hoping my legs could recover enough for me to get to the front and have a good finish.  In the past I've been boxed out on the flat leading into the final climb, so I had hoped to be close to the front before that point, but my legs just needed the rest, so I gambled that I'd be able to get up there, and sure enough, just when I was feeling sufficiently recovered, the pack slowed down and there was plenty of room to scoot up the side and get in 3rd position with less than a mile before the climb.  I sat on wheels all the way to the base of the climb, then proceeded up the hill.  I didn't get far, before my legs reminded me they were done, but I just eased up a bit and kept it steady.  A dozen or so riders passed me, but I held off the rest, then gave it one final push near the top, passing a few back, and was just able to squeak out my first top 10 finish in a long hilly road race with a huge field!