The Suitcase of Courage

Race Report:Chris Hinds Ninigret Crit

One of my favorite race venues is Ninigret Park in Charlestown, RI.  Even when I lived much further away, I would try and race here any time I could.  The main races happen on three weekends in the spring and the Chris Hinds, Rick Newhouse, and Mystic Velo races have been second only to the Bethel race series as harbingers of the new season.  Now that I live closer, I've even been able to make it to an occasional mid-week training race series held there in the summer.

It's a flat six corner crit, but what it lacks in elevation change, it makes up in windy conditions and always-on speed.  Click here for a more detailed run-down.

I've done well here and there've been races here that I haven't even finished, but no matter the result I always enjoy racing Ninigret.  So it was with some expectation of, if not greatness, at least a good race that I lined up early last Saturday morning.  Since upgrading to Cat3, I've enjoyed racing later in the day but for this race - and even though we live less than an hour away - we had to get up before dawn to get to this race on time.

I lined up with teammate Lance (who, incidentally, had just won the previous race!) and 66 others.  After the usual preliminaries, the whistle blew and we were off.  Immediately, an attack went off the front and a few guys joined up.  For a few laps, there was actually a split and I began wondering if this race would be yet another example of how fit folks got during the mild winter off-season.  We were flying!

But I should know better by now - about five laps in, the race calmed down and while I couldn't move up quite as easily or as often as I thought I should, I could at least hang in fairly easily.

On the other hand, Lance actually made it look easy.  Despite a stiff headwind on the finishing straight, he'd won the previous race in a 3-man break with teammate Aaron (who came in 3rd!) and was clearly warmed up.  But his stamina was pretty impressive.  He kept things together for much of the race, chasing attacks and keeping things stretched out when necessary.

One of Mrs SOC's favorite angles at this race - a huge S curve that she always loves to shoot.  Unless otherwise indicated, race pics on this blog are hers (usually with an inferior camera and, this time, with just her phone).  As you can see, we were pretty stretched out at this point.  But despite the elastic stretching, it seldom broke and we all stayed together.

As is typical with crits, primes were offered throughout the race and - given the vagaries of a field sprint - I thought I'd try to win something.  So when the bell rang with about 10 laps to go, I used most of the lap to try and get up front.  By the time we hit the final corner, I was still about 15 guys back but somebody in front of me started moving up fast on the left side, and I got on his wheel.  Unfortunately, he started to fade after about 50 meters and I came around and hit the headwind sprint as hard as I could.

I'd started my sprint pretty far back, but I had the front 5 guys in my sights and was gaining.  I passed four of them and just nipped the front guy at the line.  I'd won what I thought was a big money cash prime, but I'd actually sprinted for a hat.  It's a nice hat though!

But I'd won a sprint.  And while the final sprint matters most, winning an intermediate sprint feels pretty awesome too.  Now I just had to try and recover and hope I had something left for the end.

With about 5 laps to go, I noticed that Lance had pulled out.  But being the great teammate he is, he took up a position at the sidelines to cheer me on.  If you've had anybody do that for you, you know how great that feels.  And how much you don't want to let them down.

photo by Meg Dineen McMahon

So I started moving up.  Predictably, rest of the pack had the same idea and things got faster.  But I was feeling good - so good in fact that I apparently thought nothing of being on the wrong end of the eventual winner.  In the pic above, I should be on BillYs wheel, not in front of him.

By the bell lap, I was in decent position, but the speed kept going up and when a group of us hit the second-to-last corner too hot, a bunch went right off the track.  But the Ninigret track has no curbs and is surrounded by hard-pack dirt & grass so while we all stayed upright - and I'd narrowly avoided going off the track myself - the necessary correction caused me to lose a bunch of spots.  I regained most of those by the time we hit the final corner and I was suddenly glad that the last corner is so far from the finish - I still had time.

Or so I thought.  From my position, I didn't see that three guys had gotten off the front sometime during the bell lap and I sprinted in the gutter up the right side thinking I could at least get in the top ten.  As I crossed the line, I thought I'd made it.

  

Here's the finshline video.  If you know right where to look, you can see me coming up the left side of the screen during the field sprint.  I'm going pretty fast and nobody's passing me, but I was too far back.  And - given the three guys I didn't see - I didn't make it into the top ten after all.  I had to settle for 12th.

All in all, not a bad result considering the (relatively) large and strong field.  It was a safe, fun race & I got to race with a great teammate.  It was only later, after the results were posted, that I realized that they paid ten deep.  Ah well - 2 places out of the money isn't bad.  And I did win a cool hat.

The final race of the Bethel series is this coming Sunday.  The leaderboard is wide open, so we still have a chance to win the overall.  It's a little bit of a long shot, but that'll just make winning more dramatic and brag-worthy.  The forecast is great, many of our friends will be there, and we have plans with friends afterwards.  So no matter what the result is, it's going to be a fun day.

The Accidental 9th

(or "How To Win a Field Sprint Without Really "Trying")

Yesterday's Criterium de Bethel was the penultimate race of this year's Bethel Spring Series.  After having won the first of the six races, we haven't had the leader's jersey since.  But the way the series points are weighted toward the end, we're still in the hunt.  Unfortunately, so are a lot of other teams.

We counted on those other teams yesterday, figuring that they would chase anyone that tried to escape and keep things together.  That ended up being a mistake.  Somehow, we all let Bethel's Bill Muzzio (who had come in 2nd in a previous race) get up the road with 7 others.  By the time we (and apparently the rest of the teams) realized how dangerous this was, it was too late.  Lance & Joel did what they could to try and bring things back together and BJ tried to bridge, but the gap had grown too large and they weren't coming back.

With all the points taken by the break, all that was left to race for was honor and, frankly, fun.  It was a safe race , with only one minor, low speed crash, the result of some wheel touching in corner 1.  The guys got right up - almost too quickly given that the rest of the pack was coming by.  If you crash, please don't pick your bike up - and turn it laterally - until all the other racers have passed you.  But that was the only "scary" bit.  Even the forecast rain held off for us.

With the break up the road, it was relatively slow a lot of the time but I was glad to be able to recover from abortive chase attempts in time to have something left at the end and fly the colors.

I wasn't quite sure how best to do that though until turn 2 of the bell lap.  Things had finally strung out a bit and gaps were opening up.  SDC came up on my seven,  tapped me to let me know he was there, and I had my unspoken answer.  I started to edge to through the pack to the right side, knowing that SDC could easily follow any so-called "needle" I could thread, and - as expected - the right opened wide on the backstretch.

Diving into the deep end of the huge opening, I didn't care so much that I was going right into the wind.  I dug in and we passed by the arrowhead that was charging on the left side near the yellow line.

Shortly after we passed the front, I heard SDC yell "GO! GO!" and I dug deeper, committed to the lead out.  We were only racing for 9th at that point, but I was going to do my best to get SDC to the line ahead of everybody that was left.

As I approached the bottom of the hill, I was fading fast and hoping that SDC would be coming around me any second.  Why doesn't he come around??  I peeked to make sure that whatever direction I pulled off on wouldn't interfere with his line, but when I looked behind I saw I had a huge gap on him and the rest of the field.

Wait, WHAT?!  That's not supposed to happen!

That was my first thought, but my second thought was "OH CRAP!  Now I gotta try and hold this to the line!"

Well, as you no doubt guessed (my blogpost titles aren't usually subtle), I held it.  Just barely.  And with a little unwitting help from my friends.

  

What I didn't know was happening behind me I found out about after the race.  They say the most convincing liars are those that actually believe the lie they're telling.  Well, apparently, the corrrollary to that is the best way to fool everybody else is to fool yourself.  *I* thought I was doing a lead out, but everybody else thought I was just going too early and was therefore doomed.  By the time SDC politely mentioned in passing yelled to the guys around him "GO! GO! HE'S LEADING ME OUT!!" (I'd only heard the first part), I'd already gotten a healthy gap.  So my friends in the pack may not have meant to help me, but by sitting up or otherwise not launching as early as I did, I caught them sleeping made it to the line first.

Well, ninth.  Those eight escapees came in a good bit ahead of me, taking all of yesterday's points with them and putting Bethel's Muzzio in the leader's jersey going into the final week.

We have one race left and few cards left to play.  But we're still in the game.  And with the Easter holiday we have two weeks to come up with a strategy that'll put us in yellow when it matters most.  Hopefully there'll be nothing accidental about that.

Full results of yesterday's races here

Garmin data here

Criterium de Bethel 2012:Photos & Data

Until I can write up a report of the day's fun, here's a link to the photos that Mrs. SOC took of the Cat 3/4 race and my Garmin data.

You can also get to the photo album by clicking on the "Criterium de Bethel 2012" link on the left side of this page (under "Photo Albums" natch).  When I post the report, I'll have a finishline video too (also courtesy Mrs. SOC).

Until then, bedtime....

The Hardest Easiest Race

I want to thank all of you that took the time to post a comment and for sharing your thoughts about Markus.  The way our racing community has expressed its support and shared in this loss has been truly amazing and a great comfort.  Time will heal, but we all in our own way will continue to bear the scar of this loss.

Ever since it was announced, I knew there was no other place I could be than at Francis J. Clark Industrial Park this past Sunday morning for a memorial service honoring Markus' memory.  After a very tough week for so many of us, we needed to be together, to encourage each other, and to hopefully - somehow - start healing from what happened.

The rainy weather kept the number of racers down and the fields were smaller than usual, but nothing diminished the outpouring of support during the memorial.  Well over a hundred racers milled about waiting to start the silent lap.  When Markus' team, Pawling Cycle, decided to go to the site for a few moments of silence, everybody else decided to follow them, not quite sure what else to do.  Once they came back, the owner of Pawling Cycle made some very moving remarks and then everybody went on the official lap.  SDC, the series promoter, shared some thoughts as well, and then the rest of the day's racing continued.

It was cold and raw, so most folks were content to hang out in Panificio Navona, eating snacks & sipping coffee.  Those that were watching the Cat4 race, though, got to witness something special.  Brandon Freyer of Pawling Cycle won the race, pointing to the sky as he crossed the line.

Seeing the next race, then the race after that, was a strange experience.  Things seemed to get back to normal a little bit - whatever that means.  Each time the official made his announcements, the whistle blew and I heard the sound of cleats clipping in, it became just a little bit easier to imagine that we could in fact do this again.  We could remember Markus and race as we know he loved to do.

My one race of the day was the Cat3/4 race and it was pretty mellow.  I expected that the wet roads would keep speeds down, and I was totally ok with that.  Being off the bike for almost two weeks, I didn't know what to expect fitness-wise, and I certainly wasn't planning on doing anything aggressive under the day's conditions.  Seems others felt the same way and our race felt more like a fast group ride than an actual race.  Things were spirited here and there, but once a break established up the road - taking all but one of the points with it - folks seemed content to just ride.

There were a few attacks and a couple of times somebody attempted to bridge to the break.  After one of the primes I heard someone yell "yeah - he got it for Markus" and realized that Brandon was one of the guys in the break, and had won that prime.

Though things were subdued, we were still racing and with about 10 laps to go, I asked BJ whether he'd like to try to bridge - I'd see how far I could get him.  I pulled him as far as I could, getting 1/3 of the way up the hill before he launched.  He was out in no man's land for a good three laps, but the break was too strong for him to catch.

As the race wound down, I went back to see whether SDC wanted to do anything for the end.  We thought all the points were up the road, so decided we'd just ride.  I wanted to get one more hard effort in, though, so with about 5 laps to go, I took off.  Friend Esteban came up to me a lap later and we started trading pulls - him doing much of the work and me fading fast.  I'm not usually one to be in a break, or a chase group, much preferring to stay in the shelter of the pack til the end.  But we held together until the start of the bell lap, when I came off going around corner one.

We'd gotten a pretty good gap on the field by that point, but I heard later that the break had almost lapped us.  Unfortunately, the gap wasn't enough for me to hold off the pack, and I got swamped going up the hill toward the finish.  The only good thing for my race was seeing teammate SDC - or rather hearing him - whoosh, whoosh, whooshing up the right side, winning the field sprint for 7th.  Just outside the points.  Esteban had come in 6th & I wished even more that I'd been able to hang on for just one more lap.

Despite how hard I'd made the final laps on myself, all the numbers on my Garmin said it was an easy race.  But it was one of the toughest I've ever been in emotionally.  I can only imagine that it was even tougher for others.  Markus was never far from our minds, and I don't expect that he ever will be as long as we race here.

And that may be one of the best memorials to his memory there can be.  Everybody wants to be remembered in some way, to have some validation that they mattered and were important to somebody.  The thoughts and words shared Sunday morning certainly expressed what Markus meant to so many whose lives he touched.  But whether we knew him personally or not, I know that every time we race the Bethel Spring Series, his memory will continue to live in our hearts.

 

2012 Racing Season OpenerRonde de Bethel

Like the first crocus or robin, the Bethel Spring Series is a harbinger of spring and the start of the bike racing season in Connecticut.  It’s always fun anticipating the series start – the Sweep Day the day before the first race is like last-minute holiday shopping and race day itself is a unique combination of Christmas & family reunion, with a lot of pain and reckoning thrown in for good measure.  Whether we’re targeting it or not, those of us that plan on racing Bethel at all are sure to train over the winter, and this past Sunday, March 4^th, was our first chance to see whether the training would pay off.

The past couple of years, I’ve headed into Bethel with the smug confidence that comes from knowing I tolerate the indoor trainer more than many, much better, racers.  And last year’s Snowpocalypse prevented a lot of training and seemed to give me an edge.  But this year’s mild winter promised hot racing.  And yesterday didn’t disappoint.  Or did, depending on the state of your legs.  Mine were a mixed bag.  My training has been going as per usual, but everybody else seems to have raised their game a bit.

There were a lot of firsts yesterday as well:

• First time I've (tried to) help SDC with the race;
• First time Mrs. SOC has missed a Bethel race;
• First time I've started a race without warming up;
• First time I've raced my bike off-road, without crashing;
• First time I've finished dead last.

I wanted to get there early to help where I could, but I don't exactly live close to the track, so had to get up and leave extra early.  Too early for Mrs. SOC, and she decided it best to try and whittle down a long list of things she wanted to get done at home.  Once I got to the race, I couldn't believe everything that SDC does.  He has lots of wonderful help, but it's amazing how much there is to do.  He makes it look so easy.  Unfortunately, he makes racing without warming up first look easy too.  It isn't.  I rolled up to the line with him right before the whistle went off and immediately regretted not having gone around the track at least once.  I was immediately at the back and struggling.

I warmed up eventually and did what I could to help a team that was doing pretty well without me.  I helped bring back one of the breaks, but most of the work was being done by Joel (who's looking really fit and fast on his new bike this year), TJ (ditto - and after some real scary health challenges last year), Dennis (who still claims he's not a crit racer) and Lance (who's always strong and fast, unless he's broken his bike. Again).  Joe and Jeff were there too - and of course BeeJay.  At least that's what I heard - I was never at the front long enough to see any of them myself.

The racing was fast, but safe, and the only race of the day that actually had sunshine.  With 5 laps to go, and starting to actually feel like I could do something significant, I started moving up.  I wasn't sure where the rest of the guys were at that point - I could only hope they were further up than I was - but I found SDC about 1/4 way through the final lap and told him to get on my wheel.  I started leading him up the right side and was glad I had enough left to actually make some good progress.

But with about a 1/2 lap to go, on the backstretch, the whole field shifted right, pushing me into the curb.  I still don't know whether I just rolled up the curb onto the grass or if I actually hopped up - but I do know that once I was off-road the first thought I had was "oh crap - I'm gonna crash in my first race of the season."  Somehow I stayed upright, but then I saw a driveway coming up fast.  I hopped over that curb, onto the driveway, and hopped back up over the other side.  By the time I got back onto the track, the race was gone up the road.

I pedaled in dead last.  But at least I hadn't crashed.

And another huge consolation - I heard that SDC came in 8th and teammate BeeJay had won!  I'd hoped that with SDC on my wheel that he would have captured my 'cross antics on his helmet cam, but savvy racer that he is, he'd read the pack and moved left as they moved right - getting him into better position (clearly), but missing out on the entertainment.

After a quick bottle refill and a quick check of the bike (I remember hitting one of the curbs hard enough that I thought I might have broken my carbon wheel, but thankfully all looked fine), I had friend Dave cut off my Cat3/4 number to reveal the Pro123 number beneath.  And I lined up for another race - warmed up this time.   Well, as warmed up as you can be while standing there shivering uncontrollably.  The clouds had rolled back in and the temperature had dropped considerably.

Once we got started, I felt better.  It's a lot easier to race when your only goal is to sit in and hang on as long as possible.  And wanting to pay penance for a previous poor result motivates you to stay in way past when you might otherwise give up.  At 46 laps, on top of the 30 I'd just done, finishing would be a huge accomplishment.

After feeling relatively good for the first dozen or so laps, my legs started to remind me of all the miles I hadn't ridden over the winter.  My heart & lungs were fine - my HR would drop back to zone 2 by the backstretch each lap - but my legs got harder and harder to turn over.  And that blasted hill!  Each time I reached the top, I started telling myself "just one more time."

Such are the lies we bike racers tell ourselves.

When the lapcards FINALLY got into the low teens, I started thinking I might be able to finish after all, despite the increasing sluggishness (or decreasing peppiness) of my legs.  But that hill was taking its toll and going through the start/finish at the top, and with 5 laps to go, I was OTB.

As I rounded corner 1, I figured I'd at least finish the lap and call it a day.  But for some reason - maybe teams setting up for the sprint finish? - the pack slowed just enough for me to catch back on by the backstretch and I was able to stay in there for the next 4 laps and the finish, coming in 43rd out of 71.

But the results weren't as important as what I learned - I definitely need more sleep the night before a race, and I need to be sure to warmup at least a little.  I'll do that next week and see whether those things explain my performance or if yesterday was an indication of how 2012 is going to look.

If nothing else, I got in a good workout - 60 miles at a bit over 24mph avg.  I checked my records and I haven't ridden 60 miles in a day since last September(!)  Maybe that explains things a bit.

Best of all though, yesterday was more than a race (or races) or a workout - it was a great time to see old friends and meet new ones.  Many of these folks I see only at the races, and they're sorely missed during the offseason.  The last time I'd seen JohnM, he was spinning down the road at Jamestown (and not in a good way), but he was there yesterday - even though he's not quite ready to race yet.  And I even got to meet some folks that read this blog, and some that I only know online.  I appreciate their taking the time to come up and (re)introduce themselves.  And of course Rob, Frank, Rick & Rebecca, Dave & Melissa, and my friends out on the track - whether teammates or not - are all reminders that there's lots of great racing ahead.

That's what makes racing fun.  No matter how well or how poorly you do, you're still able to be outside, with like-minded folks, doing something you love - and getting fit at the same time (or at least mitigating some of what you did the rest of the week).  And how cool is that?

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For the data-minded, here are the numbers for the Cat 3/4 race and for the Pro123 race.

Jamestown Classic Road Race, 2011

Ah, yes, the Jamestown Classic.  If you're a road racer in Southern New England, Jamestown is the last race of your season.  Always on Columbus Day, it comes at a strange time - long after the summer crits and other road races & right in the middle of cyclocross season.  For this reason, a lot of folks either forget about it or skip it, having lost too much summer fitness or gotten out of the racing mood.  And the lower-categorized racers (Cat 3 to Pro) get no love - there haven't been any races for those guys in a while, just Masters races.

I admit I've been guilty of skipping it myself the past couple of years.  The only race I'd qualify for - Masters 35+ - has been either too early, or the weather's been foul.  But this year, I had no possible excuse.  Sure, at 10 am I wish my race was a bit later, but with a weather forecast more like July than October, there was no way Mrs. SOC and I were going to skip this year.

And with views like this, why would you want to?  Beautiful morning looking at the Newport Bridge from the starting line.  The race is held on Conanicut Island and the start/finish is in Jamestown.  One of the biggest attractions of the race is all the water & shore views.  This is probably more a benefit to spectators, since racers don't get much of a chance to appreciate the scenery going by.  But if you DO get to sneak a quick glance, you're stunned by how much beauty you're racing through.

It's 19.1 miles around the island, including a trip down the "Beavertail" to the lighthouse, and our race did two laps.  From a downtown start, you race along the harbor then head slightly inland/uphill, crest at the golf course, then head downhill over bumpy pavement under the approach to the Newport Bridge.

Along the water again, then a very long, but gradual ascent for much of the way to the north end of island, over a few rollers.  After you make a hard left to head back south, the "cobbles" section begins.  This section of road has ALWAYS been AWFUL - and I heard a rumor the locals like it that way.  I didn't see any this year, but in years past I'd see many water bottles flying off through this section.

Another hard turn, right this time, downhill swinging left and more rough pavement.  When you finally get off the "cobbles" you'll feel like you're floating.  Just in time for another "climb."

Ok, there's only one, maybe two, ascents on this circuit that would qualify as a true "climb."  I've always said this race is a crit racer's road race - I never got out of my big ring even on the big climb.  But the speed, not the gradient, is what gets you.  Even gradual ascents were made painful by the pace set by the pack.

Continuing south, over rolling terrain, it's pretty fast and just about straight as a ruler, making it tough for breaks to hide and stay away.  Since it's so non-technical, you can sneak a glance around at the farmland and coves.

Back through the west side of town, then a right onto the causeway.  Crosswinds can play a role here.  Gradual left, then another climb - probably the 2nd toughest of the circuit.  More rollers, then the highlight of the race - the "Beavertail" loop around the lighthouse.

You have to be in good position going in, since the road narrows WAY down.  And after so much racing all-out on pretty straight roads, the curves and corners around the island's point feel very technical.  Nothing a crit racer can't handle with relative ease, but the rest of the course doesn't prepare you for this part.  And, as always, if you stay upright & hold your line you're fine - but be ready for the inevitable post-corner attack: The speed ramps up quickly once you're around the lighthouse.

Back along the way you just came, over the causeway, then a right turn onto The Big Climb.  It's a 3/4 mile ramp from sea level to one of the high points of the island.  There's absolutely no undulation & no place to hide.  I don't know the gradient, but coming when it does in the race, especially after one of the fastest sections, makes it feel just brutal.

The only consolation is that it's the last climb of the circuit.  Hard left turn at the top, then a broad, sweeping S curve descent back down to the harbor, slight uphill and right curve to the finish.

And that's one lap of the Jamestown Classic.

I had no expectations coming into this race.  My two A races in August were cancelled, even the last Rent' race was cancelled due to Tropical Storm Irene.  So the last time I raced was a Ninigret training race sometime mid-August, and my last actual race was the Naugatuck crit in July.  With Pedal for Paws, I basically laid off the bike for the month of September, posting my lowest weekly mileages of the year.  And since I'd be racing a Masters Road Race (a combo that doesn't suit me), I figured I'd treat Jamestown as a hard workout and a nice ride around the island on a beautiful summer-like day.

I got what I expected.  Mostly.

Over 40 of us M35+ racers lined up...

and we were the first of the "senior" races (as opposed to kids, Citizen & Cat 5 races).  That's the Masters 45+ field lined up right behind us.

Other than the spectacular location, the nicest thing about this race is the familiar faces you'll likely see for one last time before the season closes.  Friends Esteban, Rob, Joe, John, Scott, Steve & Kevin were all in my race, and other EXPO racers were in the Cat 4 race.  It's bittersweet knowing the next time we'll race together won't be until the Bethel crits in March.

Given my lack of riding & racing motivation, I planned to sit in and do my best to conserve energy.  Thankfully, right from the start, it looked like this would be no problem.  Being used to all-out crits, the pace was pretty manageable overall, except on the ascents.  It was hard to move up though.  When you were going slow enough to move up, it was wall to wall racers.  When it was all strung-out, it was suicide to try and move up too much into the wind.  But if you watched closely, gaps would inevitably form - especially on the ascents.  In this way, I was able to stay within the first 1/4-1/3 of the pack for most of the race.

One of the reasons I prefer crits to road races is that they're much more spectator-friendly.  The Mrs comes to all my races and during a crit she can see a lot more of what's going on.  Once we left the start at Jamestown, I wouldn't be back around for almost an hour.

Fortunately at this race, she has other distractions.

And eventually, we *do* make it back around.  There I am, in a strung out field, passing through the start/finish and beginning lap 2.

And since the organizers start one field shortly after another, there isn't much downtime once the fields start coming through.

We all made it through the first lap without incident and the second lap started, unsurprisingly, a bit faster than the first.  Nevertheless, though my legs were starting to tire from the effort (and lack of training), I started thinking about the finish.  A couple of breaks had gotten off the front during the first lap & a half, but there didn't seem to be any dominant teams present and the pack would eventually catch the desperadoes.  A sprint finish started to look likely.

As you may know, I like sprint finishes.

So I figured if I could just hang in there, get around the lighthouse safely and not burn too many matches on The Big Climb, I'd actually have a fighting chance at a top ten finish - or even top 5.  That'd be HUGE for me, all things considered.

We got through the "cobbles" - much faster this time around - and the pace didn't let up going all the way south.  We hit the causeway at speed and started the second-biggest climb.  That was a total leg burner.  The pace going up was the fastest yet and by the time I hit the top, I was pretty cooked & thinking I really didn't have another one of THOSE efforts in my legs.  But I recovered and was in decent shape going around the lighthouse.

As we headed back north, I noticed a 3-man Berlin Bikes train gathered - Scott, Steve and Kevin were sticking together.  I've raced with them all season and know they all finish well, any one of them can take a sprint.  So I resolved to get on their train and try to hold on to the finish.

Unfortunately, the dynamic of the pack had other ideas and I got pushed (not literally, thankfully) off the wheel and drifted to the right side of the pack just as we came over the top of that "second biggest climb" - which going north is a screaming descent to the causeway.

I noticed a runner coming up the right shoulder.  I didn't think anything of it - the roads aren't closed and we'd been dealing with the occasional car & truck all day - but we were going very fast and guys were trying anything to gain position before The Big Climb.

I don't know exactly what happened, but I noticed some guys moving left to give the runner some room.  Then a wobble, that turned to a ripple through the pack, then bikes & bodies started flying - all in the span of a nanosecond.  About half a dozen went down, a couple across my path.  I narrowly missed John as he slid sideways toward me, hitting his helmet in the process.  Another rider & bike jumped the curb in front of me, lost it on the rough ground and separated.  Fortunately for me, the rider moved faster than the bike and I had just enough room to jump the curb myself to get around the bike & squeeze past the rider.  I frankly still don't know how I was able to stay upright through the dirt.

The adrenaline rush from what I'd just missed came just in time - the front 1/2 of the pack was disappearing up the road and I started chasing.

I caught some stragglers at the causeway and hit the climb at full speed.  And felt like I'd just jumped into a vat of molasses.  The adrenaline that had got me to within striking distance of catching on suddenly vanished and I was cooked from the effort.  About 1/2 way up the climb, I was just about to literally get off my bike and walk the rest of the way up when I heard someone behind me.  Racers - heck, just about every cyclist - will know what I thought next: "I'm not going to give up in front of this guy."  So I kept pedaling, my legs feeding on my pride.

But the body can only do so much and just before we crested the hill, the guy - #28 - came around me with a "Let's see if we can catch'em" as he rolled by.  My crossed eyes could only focus on his wheel as he churned out a pace I was surprised I could manage.

After we made the last hard turn left and started descending, I thanked him for the pull and told him to get on my wheel.  I'd been able to recover a bit and wasn't going to just coast into the finish - despite the front of the race being out of sight (and probably close to the line by then).  I can go DOWNhill fast, so that's what I did.  Pedaling as if I was a lone breakaway and enjoying the broad, fast, sweeping descent, the beautiful view of the harbor, and the welcome of the finish.  I may have looked strange - or even a little foolish - racing so hard for so little.  But I figured it'd be better to end my season this way than with a wimper.

I even passed a couple guys on the way and hoped for a top 20.  It wasn't quite enough - I came in 23rd.  But I'd avoided the crash, I didn't suffer TOO much during the race, and it was a gorgeous summer-like day on an island.  I didn't need a better result.

Unfortunately, John's race ended back before the causeway.  I'm not sure what happened to the others, but I know John got taken to the hospital.  "Nothing too serious" I'm told - but even if he just went to be checked out and safe, he - and the others in the crash - have some uncomfortable days, and especially nights, ahead.  Sucky way to end the season, but we're looking forward to seeing him at Bethel.

I had a much better time post-race (though I guess it woudn't take much).  The Mrs & I had lunch at this cute place just around the corner from the start/finish.  One of the (if not the FIRST) times I raced Jamestown, we ate here with some dear friends afterwards and it was fun to recapture that a little.

A few of the year's numbers.

So that, dear readers, marks the official end of my 2011 racing season.  I may still post a report on my last Ninigret race (with SDC and MyShavedLegs no less), but for the most part this blog will move from race reports to riding & training.  Considering the fact that I've recently "discovered" nighttime riding, I expect there may be a lights review coming up soon too.  So stay tuned and don't be bashful about leaving a comment or otherwise checking in.  It'd be nice to know that somebody other than my mom and the Mrs is reading all this writing.  Actually, I'm not even sure my mom makes it this far....

****

For those interested, Garmin race stats are here.

Breaks Missed and Made:Attleboro & Naugatuck Crits

Given the events of the last week, I never got around to posting about my race at Attleboro, MA July 9.  It's just as well though, since it provides an interesting contrast to my race yesterday at Naugatuck, CT.

Attleboro Crit - Cat 3: Break Missed (this time)

 
The Attleboro track is next to an old factory and goes around a neat old school building in the middle of a residential neighborhood.  Once you getcher cyclocross on - having to literally climb over the concrete barrier to get to the track from the lot - you see that it's a (mostly) shady circuit with a hill rising after the start finish, a hard righthand corner 2 (and, inexplicably, the location of most of the crashes), fast downhill into corner 3, and a long - slightly uphill - sprint to the finish.  The pavement's typical New England - rough, but not especially dangerous (so long as nobody freaks out and swerves to miss stuff).

 

The neighborhood

 

The hill after the start/finish

This was only my second time ever at the Attleboro crit.  Way back in my debut year of 2006, it was my 4th race ever.  I was racing unattached and Mrs. SOC and I had a blast going to every race we could find.  Being such a newbie, I wouldn't know what to do with teammates if I had them.  I was just racing to see how well I could do.

That race went pretty predictably until one of the primes.  2-3 guys attacked right after and sprinted up the hill.  I'd just read in Bike Racing 101 that primes were ideal for launching breaks.  I didn't know Cat5 breaks were rare, so I went scampering after them.  And whattaya know?  Eventually a few more guys bridged up and we had a real, bonafide break in a Cat 5 race.  And we stayed away until the end.  I was pretty cooked by the finish, but managed to come in 4th.

As well as I've been racing this season, and now with a team, I hoped to do at least as well this time around.  And I looked forward to recapturing some of that first-year magic.

Where's Waldo SOC?

None of my Cat3 teammates could make this race, so for the first half I went with everything I could - chasing/covering moves and even bridging up a few times.  But it started to look like no break would be able to stay away, nobody wanting  to work that hard in the July heat.

Unfortunately, I was wrong.  A break of three got up the road and I didn't bother chasing it, figuring it'd come back like all the others.  Had I known that local strongman Bill Yabroudy was up the road, I would have thought differently.

Undoubtedly due in no small part to his drive, the break got quite a gap on us and we were racing for (coincidentally, considering my last time here) 4th place.  At 3 laps to go, I decided to try and bridge - launching (according to Garmin) a 42+mph attack up the right side through the start/finish.  I got an immediate gap and was away alone for a whole lap and a half before I blew up.

I quickly reintegrated into the field to try and recover in time for the sprint, but I was cooked.  I ended up 19th.  Top 20 (barely), but missing the break and then pulling a Hail Mary move so late took its toll.  Thankfully, there was a huge consolation in being able to go out with Cat4 teammates Lance & Marty and their SOs for dinner afterwards.

Naugatuck Crit - Masters 35+: Break Made

I rode well at last Tuesday's race, so I looked forward to seeing what I could do at Naugatuck.  I debated whether to choose to race the Masters or the Cat 3/4 race.  I typically choose the categorized races - the Masters races include a lot of Cat 1s and 2s and even former Pros, so they tend to be much harder than lower category races.  But this time, I chose the Masters race.  It proved a good decision for a couple of reasons.

The Donovan-Ruhlman Criterium is a regular staple of my summer racing season - I've only missed it once since I started racing and it was my first race after my broken collarbone healed.  I usually do well there too, but jumping in with the Masters kept my expectations low.

The crit is an (increasingly-rare) downtown circuit - hard lefthand corner 1, downhill to a rough-surfaced & sharp corner 2, undulating backstretch to a broad left bend and up a short, steep hill and a VERY sharp corner 4.  The final corner is a long way from the finish and slightly uphill.  It favors a powerful sprint, but be careful - the overhead banner is SHORT of the finishline.

 

A little over 50 of us lined up, with team EXPO represented by me, SDC and DaveH.  With a 2pm start, it was VERY hot - especially in the sun.  SDC graciously loaned me an insulated bottle of ice water that I put in my 2nd cage.  I was gonna need that (and more) by the end of the race.

I knew my relatively-short warmup (10 mins?)  was a mistake as soon as the whistle blew.  By the first corner, I was already near the back.  Fortunately, it's downhill after corner 1 and I was able to make up a bunch of positions.  By the second lap, I was about 1/2 - 3/4 up toward the front, but a split had already occurred, with DaveH in it.

Afraid that might be the end of my race right there, I burned a few precious matches to get near the front in case it came back together.  Thankfully, with a lot of strong guys apparently left behind the split, the gap disappeared after a couple of laps and I was about 3 guys away from the front.

And when DaveH got absorbed on the backstretch, I "attacked" - it wasn't really a hard effort, especially for that early in the race.  More of a moderate counter for my teammate, keeping things animated (and hoping not to blow myself up in the process).  Nobody else must've taken it very seriously either since I had a good gap before the beginning on the hill.

But JoeK (good friend and former teammate) saw me go and decided to go with me, tapping me as he went by, encouraging me with a "Let's Go!"  We traded pulls at a much higher pace - a pace at which I lasted, oh, about 1/2 a lap.  I knew there was no wayI was going to be able to keep it up like that and was disappointed to have to admit to him "I don't have it - not today."

I knew a couple more guys had come up to us and I assumed they were the tip of the pack.  But we'd gotten more of a gap than I thought since there was a LOT of daylight behind those other guys. 

 

I was actually in a break - rare for me in a "real" race (as opposed to a training crit).  But would it stick?  I thought it was WAY too early for the pack to let us get away, only 5-10 minutes into an hour long race.  But whether due to the high heat, unmotivated pack, or the fact that teammate Dave was covering every bridge attempt he could (likely "all of the above"), we stayed away.  We ultimately ended up with 10 guys, keeping a steady hard pace.

 

I was glad there were so many of us since that meant the workload would be spread out.  Good thing - each time I hit the front, it was torture.  I did everything I could to keep the pace high.  But the heat was taking its toll, and the pace kept me from reaching for my bottle as often as I should have.

Exactly when SDC dropped out of the race, I don't know.  But I do know that at about the time I thought I was going to get cooked by either the sun or the high pace, he showed up by the side of the road on the hill.  And he had bottles of ice water.  It took a couple of laps for me to notice the bottles - I thought he was only there to shout encouragement.  I learned later that he was yelling "Get to my side of the road stupid! So I can dump some water on you you idiot!!" or words to similar effect.  Once I discovered that, I made sure I was on his side of the road every lap - at least until the water ran out.  It was amazing while it lasted - the initial shock of the ice water quickly gave way to about 100 watts worth of refreshment.  I swear, if it hadn't been for that water I don't think I would have been able to hang on to that break.

 
This pic courtesy Rich Foley

Eventually, two TargetTraining guys must've figured they could do better without the rest of us.  At one point one of them attacked and his teammate quickly followed.  They got a huge gap pretty quickly, which none of the rest of us could close.  I, for one, didn't really care.  I was already at my limit and had no interest whatsoever in trying to hang with those two.  If I'd even tried, I'm sure I would have been a DNF (turned out my avg HR was one of my highest ever in a race).

 

So I continued to work with the remaining chain gang.  With 4 laps to go, the tactics started - different guys attacking, other guys covering & closing gaps.  I played defense, covering and closing when I could.  But no attacking for me.  I needed to have SOMEthing left for the finish.

I didn't think it possible, but I should have expected that the pace would ramp up for the Bell Lap - and it did.  I surfed wheels all the way to the bottom of the hill, then all heck broke loose.  It seemed that just about everybody was starting the sprint early, but they were just attacking the hill HARD and trying to shell who they could.  I dug deep to not get dropped and was still on a wheel as we went fast around the final corner.

Unfortunately, gaps started to appear in front of the wheels I was following.  I knew the finish was still a long way off, so I got out of the saddle and pedaled as hard as I could.

I passed a few guys on my way to the line, surprised I still had enough energy to even get my butt off the saddle, much less pedal.  The guy I was coming around must've forgotten about the banner vs. the finishline - he stopped pedaling at the banner and I threw my bike at the line.

It was good enough for 6th place, just inside the money.

 

 

Unfortunately, the euphoria of the race was dampened first by hearing that one of my breakmates had to pull out due to heat exhaustion.  Unfortunately, just was we found out he'd be ok (and was even considering signing up for the P123 race), we heard a crash in the Cat 3/4 race - in the first corner of the race(?!)  Apparently, somebody rolled a tire.  That wasn't as bad as what happened a few laps later.  Jefferson, racing for Navone Studios, was involved in another crash.  Frank Navone is a great sponsor of the Bethel Series and a good friend (even making a special trip over before my race to offer his condolences on the loss of Rainy).  I don't know Jefferson myself, but SDC does.  His report is here, but suffice it to say that it was a bad crash - broken collarbone and possible concussion.

So please keep Jefferson in your thoughts and prayers.  Racing isn't the most dangerous hobby there is, but it has its risks and it's supposed to be fun.  Hopefully Jefferson will be back up and at'em very very soon, enjoying racing and enjoying life.

As SDC put it: "Life is what is fun. Racing's just a part of it."

--------------------

 For the data geeks:

Attleboro: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/98003881

Naugatuck: http://connect.garmin.com/activity/100029071

Quick Thoughts on Choosing Races

If you're looking for some deep insight on how to choose your next race so that you're likely to win (or at least have a chance), filled with analyses and information on how to pick according to your metacycle, periodization, how to properly train leading up to the event, how to taper, etc. . .

you'll need to look elsewhere.  I'm no coach (which, if you didn't realize that already, it'll become crystal clear by the end of this post).

But I think since I've upgraded to Cat 3 (and have no ambitions of becoming a 2), I've discovered a few things about how to make racing fun. You remember how FUN racing is, don't you?  Or are you so bogged down in all the craziness of training, intervals, doing just such and not so-and-so, that you've forgotten?

Do You Race to Ride or Ride to Race?

There's a quick test that'll help you find out.  In the days leading up to a race, do you obsess or otherwise worry about how many miles you're riding (or not riding)?  If you have a race on Sunday, but it's gorgeous out on Friday and Saturday, do you ride as much as you want?  Or do you hold yourself back, despite the beckoning of the road?  Or, worse, have a training plan that says "You Absolutely Must NOT Ride" in the days leading up to your event?

Don't get me wrong - if you have an event you want to be sure to do well in, if not win, you should give yourself every possible chance.  If you actually have a coach and/or a training plan, awesome.

But I'm finding more and more that those kind of "A" races are a lot less fun for me than just going out and racing.  Too filled with pre-race anxiety and nervousness, borne of a sense that you somehow have to justify all the sacrifices you made to get there.

So, my easy solution: Drop the sacrifice.  Not all of it (let's not get TOO crazy here), but The Great One once said to just ride your bike, lots.  And that's still good advice.

The Test: Do you race to ride, or ride to race?  Is racing your focus - the centerpoint around which all other riding revolves?  Or do you just enjoy riding (and, if you're racing, you enjoy riding fast) and the racing is incidental?  Which do you wish it would be?  Which is more fun?

If you're honest with yourself and what you want to get out of your time on the bike, the answer may surprise you.

Masters or Cat 3?

I've written before how I prefer Cat 3 races to Masters races.  As part of, ahem, the over-40 crowd, I qualify for both.  But I usually avoid the Masters races since they're stacked with former Pros, Cat 1s and 2s and I haven't a chance to do well (well, I have just as much chance as anyone else, but stick with me here).

Well, there's something to be said for having low expectations: there's certainly less pre-race anxiety or self-pressure to do well.  You can just enjoy racing - enjoy going fast on your bike.  With all those Pro/1/2s, you'll certainly go fast.  Providing of course you know how to draft (and if you don't know how to do that, you're probably not deciding between Masters and Cat 3 races).

What are your friends and/or teammates doing?

This is perhaps the most important consideration of all, unless you're so self-focused on your result that you don't care (that much).  And, actually, there are times when this is ok (i.e. "A" races).  Yes, even I have been known to get a little self-focused at races from time to time (even being referred to as "dark SOC" once).

But if you're racing for fun rather than racing to win, then you'll want to pick the race with the most friends in it.  Of course, if you're racing to win, having friends as well as teammates is critical (and the more the better).  Though that's assuming that they're willing to work for you to win.  They may have ambitions of their own.  How you negotiate when to be the workER and when to be the workEE is beyond this scope of this post.

Case Study

All of these considerations became apparent in my decision of which race to race at Naugatuck this Sunday.

Step 1

Since the heat wave broke Wednesday night, it's been absolutely PERFECT weather here in Southern New England.  But, being gainfully employed  (as wonderful as that is, especially in this economy) prevents me from riding as much as I'd like.  So, despite knowing that I'm going to race Sunday (though still undecided which race), I decided to ride my bike into work - in addition to our weekly Friday Morning Throwdown ride.  And I plan on riding the regular Saturday morning group ride tomorrow.  Ask me what condition my legs will be in.

I'm clearly racing in order to get to ride fast rather than riding/training (or not riding) to race.

Step 2

As a Cat 3, I qualify for both the Masters and Cat 3 races.  I've been doing well in the mid-week training crits (for me, really well) and, without being immodest, I know I'm a strong Cat 3.  If I do the Cat 3 race, I know myself - I'll put a LOT of pressure on my shoulders to do well.  Really well.  For me, that equals pre-race anxiety.  And by riding into work (and wanting to ride tomorrow)I've already decided I don't care what condition my legs are in by Sunday.  More anxiety.

But in the Masters race, I have no expectations of doing well.  If it happens, it happens.  To the extent that I have teammates in the race that are expected to do well, my expectations of doing well personally go down even further since I'll be burying myself for my teammates.  Heck, under those circumstances, I might not even finish the race.  But that's what you do for your team.

No expectation = no pre-race anxiety and more fun. I can (and likely should) attack, chase, help teammates, help friends, whatever.  I'm not in it for myself, I'm in it to ride my bike fast and have fun.

Step 3

That segues nicely into the final consideration: Which race are the teammates/friends doing?  If NObody you know will be in the race, you might as well race for yourself (i.e. choose the race that you have the best chance to do well in).  But if you find that a lot of folks you know will be in one race rather than the other, your choice becomes more clear.

SDC is racing the Masters race this Sunday.  Contrary to what-may-be popular belief, that alone is not a deciding factor for me.  Sure, he's a teammate as well as a good friend, but he's a Cat 2 and can't race Cat 3 races.  So it's really up to me to decide whether to race with him or not.  And if I want to win, I'll usually choose "not."

But racing with him is not only a blast, but - perhaps even more important - I learn a lot.  He's been racing for YEARS and can read races like nobody else I know.  And - BONUS - if we race the same race, we have that much more fun stuff in common to talk about at lunch/dinner afterwards.

There it is - that fun consideration again.

In the case of Naugatuck this Sunday, there are other teammates doing the Masters race as well as the Cat 3 race.  So that consideration alone doesn't decide it for me.

But considering how much I've ridden today and how much more I want to ride tomorrow; the fact that I'm having a lot more fun just racing for fun rather than racing to win; and there are some teammates in the Masters race that can - and probably will - do well and will appreciate some help; the choice becomes clear . . .

I'll be racing the Masters race this Sunday!

And, if you are wondering how to choose your next race, consider the three things we've discussed.  But if you don't want to have to remember all that, just ask yourself just one question:

Which race will be more fun?

At our level, we're certainly not doing this for the money.  So it really can be as simple as that.

Rent' Race 4 Rainy

Given all that's gone on the past few days, I didn't know whether I'd feel like racing Tuesday night.  But as I've mentioned many times before, the Rentschler Field races are a much-anticipated regular staple of our summer schedule.  So, once things started to settle Monday night, talk turned to what to do about Tuesday night.  We figured we'd at least want to go to see our friends, whether or not I raced or the race itself was canceled due to, um, Rain.  So I packed up the car - better to have my stuff and not need it than vice versa.

It's true that time heals and I didn't feel as bad on Tuesday as Monday ('course, that wouldn't take much).  I figured I'd at least go to the race, suit up and sit in.  Especially since the temperatures soared into the 90s - it'd be the hottest race so far this season.

Friends were great and supportive, a real comfort to us, and as I got ready I told them - and myself - that this race, given my diminished motivation and the high temps, would be a perfect one for just sitting in and getting a good workout.  Mrs. SOC and I didn't mention much about Rainy, neither of us wanting or needing to put any pressure on me to perform.

But any such pressure there might have been would have been totally deflated by seeing somebody with a Stars & Stripes jersey headed to registration.  Of course, we all wondered who he was and whether he was in fact a National Champion of some sort, or just a lowly Cat5 who didn't have any other kit.  If we'd been closer, we'd have seen the shape he was in and known right away this was no Cat5, but current amateur Elite National Champ Dave Wenger.

Heh - No need to worry about performing.  My goal now was just to be able to hang on.

 

So we lined up, EXPO teammates dotting the pack at the start, ToddB getting proper props from the promoter for his win on Sunday (Congrats to our own State Masters Crit Champ!).  TimU launched from the gate, and the race was on.

After a few inevitable attacks and counter-attacks, DW and RonL/CCNS got away and held the high pace we were all expecting.  At first, given the strength in the break and the hot weather, it didn't seem like the pack was all that motivated to chase.  The break got 3/4 of a lap on us and some of us (well, I) was just waiting for the inevitable lashing lapping.  It didn't help matters that the increase in pace spit a lot of guys out the back and there weren't many of us left to chase.

 

But, for whatever reason, whether due to the yelling out of timegaps each time we passed the start/finish, or Max's urging, we finally got organized and started chasing.  To the credit of all the guys left in the chase group (15 maybe?), we kept things very smooth and steady, each doing our turn at the front.

 

And gradually, slowly but surely, the gap actually started to go down.  Even two strongmen will find it hard to stay away from an organized and motivated pack.  And since I was still around and part of this group, my plan to "sit in" - while not totally going to plan (I was hurting a lot more than I'd planned to) - was succeeding.  I did my turns at the front, but by just hanging on, I - along with the rest of the chase group - were gaining on the break.

 

Besides the time gap coming down, there were something like five field primes that kept us motivated.  Thinking of Rainy and how much she was a part of my racing & training, I decided to try and go for a couple of primes.  I knew given the horsepower in the race, not to mention how I was feeling, that I didn't really have a chance for the overall win, but I figured I'd be able to contend a couple of "stages" - primes are the "crit equivalent" of stage wins in my mind.

 

And I won two of them, back to back.  At first - and both times - I thought I'd screwed up, that somebody else won them and I was sprinting for nothing, because it seemed like the rest of the group wasn't contesting them.  So I crossed the line each time with a pretty large gap.  Only afterwards did I confirm that I did in fact win.

After each time though, I had to go into survival mode to make sure I didn't get dropped.  The pace of the chase remained high and each time I pulled off the front, I found it more difficult to catch back on.  But SDC doused me with some ice water a few times and that helped HUGE.  But while I felt much better with each dousing, the time left on my legs was running out.  And as the lap cards started counting down from 5 to 1, I just about gave up.  In fact, I think it was about 3 to go, I just sat up and let the group go by, cooked.

But I heard someone - dunno whether it was Laura, Mrs. SOC, or Ann - yelling at me to hang in there, so I dug just a little bit deeper.  Fortunately, for whatever reason, the chase group slowed just enough so I was able to catch back on.  In an extraordinary stroke of luck, they'd caught DW and eased slightly.  But that allowed Ron to attack and come in for the win:

 

I hung in there and, at least according to the video, came in 5th or 6th.  Awesome, I thought, all things considered.

 

At the end of the day, I couldn't just sit in at a Tuesday Night race - not this night's race especially.  There will be - and are - times when I'm just not in it, got no legs.  But if I can, I'll race and do the best I can with what I've got.  And last night, I had just a little extra motivation.  All due to a little Tortie cat who I loved dearly and who's collar adorned one of the two little prizes I won in her memory.

Corny?  Yeah, a little I admit.  But sometimes we find our sources of motivation in the unlikeliest of places.  And when you're feeling less than your best, you'll accept that motivation no matter what its source.  I, for one, can't think of a better way to show how much a part of my racing Rainy was - and, in her own way, will continue to be.

---------

Garmin data here: 23.4 miles, avg speed 26.4-27.2 mph

Nadir & Apex: Weekend Rides & Tuesday Rent'

Ah, Fourth of July Weekend!  Despite Memorial Day's lock on being the "unofficial" start of summer, July 4 marks the beginning of summer's height.  This weekend is also often the kick-off weekend for Le Tour de France.  So, for us cyclists, the holiday weekend usually means riding as much as we can.

 
After my late work night Thursday, I was just too beat to ride at all on Friday - despite the gorgeous weather.  I planned to make up for it Saturday morning by tacking on some early miles before meeting up with the regular Clarke group ride.  I still had my race wheels on from Wednesday's fun, so was sure to remember to take an 80mm tube "just in case."  Good thing - 7 miles into my ride, I got a flat.  The first in I don't know how long.  Fortunately, I made it to the group ride in time - catching KimC for the last few miles on the way in.  And after a great ride with the gang, Don & I were able to get breakfast afterwards.  Nice consolation after an inauspicious start - and 55 miles for the day, though the route I took resembles a bowl of spaghetti.

Taking advantage of a rare Sunday morning at home this holiday weekend, I decided to join the regular Cannibal ride.  Had a nice 8 mile ride to the start & had a good time seeing some folks I hadn't in a while.  I was looking forward to the Durham Loop they planned, with a promised hammerfest south on Rt. 77 to the shore.  Once the group got started, ChrisW set a hard tempo pace north to Candlewood Hill Road, but 20 miles in, my rear derailleur would no longer work.  I didn't think I'd broken a cable since I could move between my 23 & 21 cogs, but I couldn't go down the cassette.

Hard to keep pace with such low gears, so I decided to turn around and ChrisB graciously kept me company during the ride back.  Unlike the previous day's bowl of spaghetti, this route was more like a long noodle.  Appropriate - especially given the pace, which was decidedly "noodling."  Got 44 miles in though.  It was only later that I realized I missed 100 for the weekend by one mile.  Oh well.

When I got home and got the hood off of the lever, I confirmed that the cable - while not totally broken - was badly frayed within the brifter.  And it was Sunday of Fourth of July Weekend.  All shops closed, chances of racing Tuesday were looking grim.

But I posted my plight on FB and it was really amazing and cool how many folks chimed in with help & encouragement.  I found a new Campy cable in my shop, but it wouldn't fit my Nokon housing.  I also discovered some leftover Campy housing, but I had no cable cutters.  DonW came to the rescue the following morning with cutters and after a ride with Mrs SOC (on my city bike) and an afternoon at the beach, I got to work.  I cut & installed the housing (that first cut being a little stressful), and the Campy cable of course slid nicely through..... and came about 8" short of reaching the rear derailleur(?!)  It was only then that I realized that Campy (and others?) make different length cables for the front and rear derailleurs.  Of course, I had a front & needed a rear.

I made a desperate, almost literally last minute, call to Clarke of Clarke Cycles who not only had a cable, but would meet me at the shop to give it to me.  And - BONUS! - it even fit my Nokon housing.

So off came the newly-installed Campy housing, back on went the Nokon housing for a permanent-rather-than-temporary fix, new cable installed, bar re-taped, hood back on (tip: use a little dishwashing liquid to slide it on MUCH more easily), and I was back in business - less than 24hrs before Tuesday's race!

I've said it many times before - the folks are the best reason to get involved in cycling.  Special thanks to Don, Clarke, & AdamM, as well as all of those who weighed in on FB the past couple of days, for helping me get back on the road.  It was like you all recognized the tragedy of being without a bike during the holiday weekend.  Turns out replacing a broken cable wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be, but it would have been a lot worse without you guys.  And now I'll be sure to keep a spare cable in my bag!

Since I didn't have daylight left to road test my handiwork, I got to the Rent' early the next evening. Despite a number of 1/4 turns on the rear barrel adjuster, the mech was still slightly hesitant to move up the cassette, but downshifting was spot on (all the better for sprinting!)  So, despite knowing I'd have to nurse it a bit, I was still VERY glad I was able to make it to the race after all.

A rough time with our cat Rainy (please keep her in your prayers) compounded by a couple other "life things" on Tuesday kept my mood decidedly down.  The usual pre-race visiting help lighten my mood considerably, but I looked to the race itself as more of a "hang on & wait for the endorphin rush" rather than an opportunity to do anything great.

But races are fickle things.  You can feel ready to conquer the world, but miss the break or get boxed in at the end.  And you can feel lousy and then have the race of your life.  Well, last night wasn't the race of my life, but it sure did turn out much better than expected.

We started off and SDC - surprisingly, and a little shockingly - launched immediately.  I figured he was just trying to jumpstart his warmup (since he doesn't usually warmup much before races), but when he was still off the front two laps later, I started thinking maybe he'd start the first break.  Unfortunately, nobody went with him and he was eventually caught.

Then the counter-attacks started, but nothing was sticking.  There'd been a winning break every week I've been there this year, so I did my best to go with moves or cover attacks when a teammate was up the road.

About 1/2 way through the race I'd been sitting in for a few laps and felt pretty good.  Aidan attacked up the left side after corner 3 and teammate Todd went after him.  So when a Central Wheel guy in front of me launched a chase, I covered.  I'm no great reader of races and thought this was just another move that would get snapped up fairly quickly.  But as we started trading pulls and a few more guys joined us, I happened to look back.  We had a gap.  A LARGE one.

Two EXPO, two CVC, a CCNS, a Central Wheel, a Horst-Benidorm, and one other guy I couldn't make out in my oxygen depleted state.  Eight guys, breaking away from the pack.  With the big teams represented and the gap growing, it looked like this break would actually stick - and I was lucky enough to be in it (if by "lucky" you mean "consigned to lap after lap of pain while keeping up hope you can actually keep up."  I only looked relaxed on the front cuz I knew the Missus was shooting).

The break did stick and we eventually lapped the field, getting back into the pack.  I, for one, was glad for the R&R, but I'd never lapped a field before and realized - almost too late - that you have to be especially watchful of your break companions or else they could slip up the road while you're enjoying the numbing embrace of the peloton.

I have to admit, at that point I considered myself WAY WAY ahead of my expectations for the evening and was almost content to just stay in the pack - one lap ahead - til the end. 

But teammate Cliff would have none of that, and he was thankfully keeping a watchful eye on the other break members, so when he saw one of them go and he motioned for me to get on his wheel, I did - though barely.

There were only a few laps left at this point and teammate Joe - racing especially strong this season - got in front of Cliff and we actually had an EXPO train going for the last couple of laps: Joe, Cliff, me & Todd.

After the bell rung in the last lap, Joe gave a last effort and Cliff took over, continuing his hard, but steady pace: slow enough to keep me on his wheel, fast enough to discourage attacks.  Perfect.

Down the backstretch, I saw Aidan attack and at corner 3 I yelled to Cliff "I got it!" so that I could cut inside him and get on A's wheel.  Todd was on my wheel and as we rounded the final corner, he jumped.  I got behind him to sweep and held that position to the line:

 

EXPO took 1st and 2nd.

 

Todd's a super strong sprinter and, despite working in the break, still had quite a kick at the end.  And, as you can tell from the picture above, didn't look any the worse for the effort - unlike yours truly.

It was an great ending to a roller-coaster Fourth of July weekend.  After the low points of flat tire and broken cable, pet and life issues, I got to race after all.  Sure, being in a winning break was amazing, and coming in 2nd place in the "A" race is something to proud of, especially when your teammate wins.   But just as importantly, the cable held up, the tires stayed inflated, nobody crashed and we got to spend time with our friends.  Few things are better than that.

**** Thanks to Rent' Race Regular Matt Stewart of Action Cycling Photography for the new profile pic!  Just sorry it took me so long to use it.