Friday

The whole week the town had been partying with bike related stuff, including some events grouped as the “Fixed Gear Symposium.” Well on Friday, they mixed bike racing with their weekly party called “Friday Nite Live” – a lot of people with good music, food and a really chill vibe.  The event?  150M sprints in downtown Traverse City.  This was absolute sweetness for a self proclaimed sprinter like myself.  I’d be competing in the fixed gear and men’s open gear categories’.

The concept was simple enough – get up on one of three start ramps, get a 10 second count down, go all out for 150M and beat the other two riders.  Can’t be that hard right?  So the first wave was the open geared category and there were like 27 of us.  I wait…and wait…and wait and then finally get called with the last wave.  It’s me and another rider…who just happends to be wearing a BMC kit.  I’m getting clipped in and the guy below my ramp says “you know who you’re racing right?” I reply “yeah” as I think to myself “and it really doesn’t matter ‘cause if he’s gonna kick my butt he’ll do it with ease.” Well the rider I was staged with was newly minted Pro Larry Warbasse of BMC’s U23 Squad.  Traverse City is his hometown so why not come out and have a little fun right?

We get our countdown and I take off down the ramp.  About 2 seconds into our run I can tell that something isn’t right ‘cause the crowd is letting out “oohhhs” and “aaawwwws.” Well, I’m not looking back so I just keep going as fast as I can and try not to kill myself as I go flying into the ultra short shut down area.  As I am making my way around the block back to staging (so I can do my fixed gear run) I run into Larry and ask what happened.  Turns out that when his bike met the pavement he unclipped (which sucks).  We got to chat for a few seconds on our way back about his return from Utah and some other tid bits (really cool guy).  I later learned that he won the Fixed Gear hill climb by like 30 seconds over the nearest competitor.  When I got back to staging I found out that Frankie Andreu mentioned that the unknown xXx rider from Chicago might be someone to watch out for.  If only I felt better…

The rest of the night would see me get 3rd in my second open gear heat (and somehow get eliminated) and get 2 1st place finishes on the track bike before getting knocked out by a Cat 1 in my first elimination round.  Oh well, I need to get some rest for tomorrow anyway because climbing up that start ramp was wearing on me each trip.

Saturday

It’s a nice, sunny, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky, kinda hot and sort of windy day.  This would be a nice day to race if there was just a little shade.  Oh well, at least it wasn’t raining.  Before the race I ran into teammate Ernie Majarucon (who took 2nd in his race), former teammate Newt Cole (top 10 in the 45+) and everyone’s favorite fan Nikki Cyp.  It was cool to see some familiar faces at a race that was 5 hours away from Chicago.  Also representing the Chi was Half Acre (Jamie Sanchez, Tim Strege and Todd Simeone) and Rhythm Racing (Evan Jahn).

Our race was slated for 30 minutes +1 on a 6 turn course that included a stretch of cobbles.  Technical courses are always cool to race on, but I have never really been a fan of cobbles.  I mean, it’s 2010 already, can’t we get some smooth pavement to run on?  But I have to say, these were some of the smoothest cobbles that I’ve ridden on so it really wasn’t that much of an issue.  Gun goes off and I get a hole shot clip in and hit the first turn in like 3rd wheel.  This is gonna be sweet.

Jamie was on the front in between myself and another rider.  Then he started to get a gap and the other rider wasn’t closing it.  Seeing as we’re both from Chicago, I decided to sit tight and see if he could get a little separation off the front, which he did.  The gap got bigger and bigger and all the while the Peloton is saying “let him go.” I’m thinking, “yeah, let him go ‘cause if the gap get’s big enough no one is going to bring him back.” We’ll, they let that go on for a while before they had enough and started chasing.  Me?  I just stayed top 5-7 wheels the entire time and let everyone else do the work.  They would eventually reel Jamie in about 10-12 minutes into the race despite some good blocking by his teammates and some soft efforts on the front from yours truly.

Most of the remainder of the race saw me cruising on the front and trying to not fall too far back.  At 20 minutes in I found myself on the front and decided I would test how I was “really” feeling.  I put the pace car in my sights and took off after it.  Funny thing, it just sped up and tried to get away from me.  Stupid pace car!  We’ll I strung the field out for a little bit and realized that I wasn’t really 100%, but I still had some juice in the legs.  But at 4 to go I got pushed to the back somehow and had to work my cherries off to get back towards the front.  In the process, Evan and another young rider got off the front which caused everyone to ramp up the pace which made it even harder to get back into a good position.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t do it fast enough and found my self in a tight bunch sprint.  The separation between 9th and 12th (where I finished)?  2/100ths of a second.  Not the best, but I’ll take it for a guy who could barely stand up two days before this race.  Evan finished 3rd and Todd took 11th.

After the race I saw the family, hung out with Nikki for a while (thanks for the ice) and saw Newt rock 6th in the 3’s.  Now here’s to a few days of rest before 4 days of brutal racing down in STL.

On such a technical course, position is key and it would be important to take advantage of any chance to move up. I’m not the best handler, but I was able to start well and make my way near the front. Even near the front, I stayed on guard the entire race, taking any opportunity to make up a spot or two, either by drafting onto a free ride or by taking a faster line in a corner. Attrition would be heavy here, so you also had to mind the gaps. At the first hint of flagging from the rider ahead of you, you had to sprint around him or risk getting caught behind an even larger gap.

The two Aerocat riders in the 30+ race were noticeably in a different league. One was a former pro and masters national champion, the other a former mountain bike Olympian from Colombia. Early in the race they did a bit of the old “Saturn sit-up” and one of them got down the road alone. This was leading into the first points sprint. I was sitting about fifth wheel and something rash came over me—I jumped on the third-to-last turn.

Obviously I have no business getting mixed up in a sprint competition. But I felt I could catch the field by surprise, and indeed, I was able to hold on for third. Who knows what could happen from this point—maybe I could get lucky in the next few sprints, too.

This sprint led to a brief three-man break that lasted for about a lap, but I think we were too cooked from the sprint to give it the gas that was required. Too bad.

I continued to focus on position and cadging free rides toward the front. Leading into the second points sprint I was again positioned in the top 10. This time I jumped even earlier, hoping to again catch folks by surprise. This didn’t work as well, but I still hung on for fourth, with the previous second-place sprinter getting fifth. By my math that made us tied for second. Huh.

No concerted attacks would come for the rest of the race until two riders slipped off at the end. I think the pace was too high for anyone to try, and I could sense that the pack was getting smaller, though I dared not look back.

Third sprint. This time I just didn’t have enough gas or position to contest. And I’m pretty sure the same Aerocat rider won all three points sprints. Rats.

From then on it was all about position. I was feeling good, but not so good that I felt I could sustain an effort off the front. So I just tried to conserve and keep position. Hopefully the natural sprinters had fallen to attrition.

I had some bad luck in the final laps, however, having to close a few gaps, including when someone unclipped in front of me on the final climb. That’s racin’. But it meant I had to scramble to regain contact and make up as many positions as I could.

In the end I finished a few spots out of the money, but I was pleased to not have anyone pass me in the sprint, which given my track record is rather extraordinary.

I probably would have done better had I not burned so many matches on those point sprints. But they did have the benefit of keeping me near the front of the race, and that was pretty important. So it may have been a net gain, and it’s always fun to try something new.

An hour later it was time for the 1/2’s race. This was strung out single-file from the start, but I was doing fine hanging in. About 20 minutes in, however, my calves started cramping up bad. It’s always hard to determine what causes a cramp—not enough water? too much water? not enough food? the wrong food?—but in any case, I was done.

I’m pretty bummed I wasn’t able to see how I could perform at this level, but happily this gave me the opportunity to see Dave Moyer put in a great effort to make the winning six-man break. (I had been so far back in the pack, I had no idea anyone was off the front.)

Technical courses aren’t my strength, but I can’t wait to try this course again next year.

The category 4 field was sold out with 100 riders; possibly the biggest group I’ve ever raced with.  A few things were certain: a good start position would be important, the race was going to be FAST, and that there would be splits in the pack due to the technical nature of the course and varying ability level.  I hustled around the mandatory free lap before lining up and slotted into the 3rd row.

The first few laps were a scramble at 28-30 mph.  I was sitting at the back of a group of about 20 riders when I noticed that there was actually a gap forming up ahead with 20 riders in it.  I made a quick decision to put in an effort to bridge.  The race was up the road and quickly moving away.  It was a huge effort to catch onto the back of the group, but I made it.  Others would also make it too, but there were many who missed out.  Unfortunately for the team, only Owen Aronson and myself were represented in the lead group.  The accelerations and gaps forming everywhere at the back half of the field kept strong team riders like Adam Herndon and John Wolters out of the lead group.  That was definitely not part of the script.  The race would have been different if more teammates would have been there.

After getting my bearings and a slight recovery, I move up to the front to keep the pace high.  I was also testing the breakaway waters.  Nobody really attacked off the front and got anywhere largely because the pace was set so high.  I ended up taking first in the last of the sprint points laps. It was nice to get the points since other races don’t have them - the prize for most points was a watch.  I hadn’t planned on going for those sprints earlier, now I was wishing that I had.  A lap later, a two place prime is called.  Generally speaking, I don’t go for primes.  This time I did and I crossed the line 2nd behind John Villena from Rhythm Racing, taking home a case of Gatorade.  That was the first prime I had ever won. I even got to pick my flavor: lemon-lime.  Most importantly, I was liking my chances out of this group.  The race continued to wind down and the group stayed fast.  By then, at least one group of riders had been pulled from the race.  Another was in danger of being pulled by the referees, but they would survive to the finish.

The last lap comes, and my position is seemingly solid.  After the hill and slight bend to the left, a rider curiously makes a from the move to the left, pushing me into a curb.  I yelled NO NO NO NO before crashing into someone’s front yard.  I’m obviously animated at that point.  The race was over for me.  I was banged up and scraped a bit, but otherwise was fine.  The bars got turned in the fall, so I brought the bike over to the very conveniently located Mavic neutral support station to get them straightened out so I can still “finish” the race.  As I get to the finish area, there are kids everywhere because they are getting staged for their races.  I was asked to leave the course, but I explained and went to the referees to make sure I would factor into the results.  My final placing was 39th, awesome.  Had I stayed upright, a top 10 was in the bag and a top 5 wasn’t unreasonable.  Good thing I won that Gatorade.

My frame was actually cracked in that crash too.  Broken equipment is an ugly side of the sport, especially when things happen out of the control of the rider.  The dream is over, and the season may be cut off sooner than anticipated.  At least I’ve got my health.

Despite the end of the race not going to plan and having some busted hardware, I had a good day otherwise.  Thanks to friends Aaron, Janet, Mike, and Michelle for making it out and supporting.  It was also nice to see Chris Kinonen win in the 3’s race in an amazing breakaway and Dave Moyer finish 5th in the 1/2 race.  Glencoe was great.  I’ll be again for more next year.

UPDATE: I was informed on Monday that I had been chosen as a winner of a raffle for a Sram Force Gruppo.  What an unbelievable prize to win.  The proceeds of the raffle tickets went to a great cause: The Glencoe Educational Foundation.  That broken frame stings just a little less now…

I got a good start and pretty much went straight to the front.  During the first few laps, I was either at the front or in the top 10, staying out of trouble, and getting a feel for the corners at full speed.  I think shortly after the first sprint for points, about 5 laps in, Flatlandia’s Dave Jaggi got a small gap.  I moved up and put in a modest acceleration to close the gap.  Looking behind me, I was surprised to see that I had actually created a gap and by the time I got to Dave, we probably had about a 10 second lead.  It was time to begin our 30+ minute two man escapade to the finish.

I knew that the ease with which we got off and extended our gap meant only one thing.  The xXx boys behind us were doing a stellar job slowing down the field.  No doubt, this was the key to our eventual success.

So there I was, very early in the race in a 2 man break.  The breakaway is my favorite part of bike racing, but this seemed a bit early to me.  I thought that if a break stuck, it wouldn’t be until the 2nd half, and I was pretty sure it was only a matter of time before we would be caught.  Nevertheless, we both just put our heads down and kept a steady, high pace.

Dave was a great break away partner and rode strong the entire race.  I think we had similar ability and took equal pulls throughout.  As the second sprint for points approached, I told Dave that I didn’t care about the points, he could have them.  He said the same thing, and we continued our unified march to the finish.

The time gaps given to us were somewhat erratic.  We were told 15 seconds, then a half a lap later, 30 seconds.  It really didn’t matter.  We were committed to a maximal effort for as long as we could hold it.  With about 20 minutes to go, however, I was suffering.  It was going to be tough to make it with such a long way left to race.  I stopped looking at the lap counter and my bike computer and just settled into a rhythm to tick off the miles. 

My teammates, friends, and people I didn’t even know cheered us on. It helped a lot.

Headed through the start finish, I inadvertently glanced up at the lap counter and saw 3 laps to go.  I began to realize that one of us was probably going to win.  There were no more words spoken from that point on.  We continued to alternate pulls. 2 laps to go. The crowd was amazing. 1 lap to go.  My teammates had set this up for me, I had to deliver. Do I attack the hill or wait for the sprint?  Dave wasn’t showing signs of weakness, so I didn’t think I would drop him on the hill.  I’d wait for the sprint.  ½ lap to go.  I was leading and I knew we wouldn’t be caught.  I didn’t expect Dave was going to volunteer to pull through so close to the finish, so I eased up a bit to recover.  2 corners to go.  I stay on the far left side of the road with an eye to my right to see if he’s going to make a move.  Last corner.  I drop it down 2 gears and begin my sprint as soon we round the bend.  I sprint with moderate intensity at first.  I can see his wheel right behind me.  Half way down the home stretch, I give it full throttle.  The finish line is oh so close.  Another glance down and Dave’s wheel is gone.  The finish line is upon me.  I raise my arms in victory for the first time since I was 17 years old.  Getting the win was surreal, and honestly still probably hasn’t sunk in.

The first thing I do is congratulate Dave on a great race.  I would have been proud to end up 2nd to him.

Of course I can’t give enough credit and thanks to the team for giving me the chance to win.  I owe all of you.

I wasn’t anticipating the podium interview, and if I had to do it over, I would start by thanking the promoters and organizers of this great race, as well as the beautiful Village of Glencoe.  Maybe I’m biased.  I think most people are going to love the races they win.  In this case however, I think the accolades are appropriate.  It was a great course and an extremely well organized race.  We can only hope they continue to host the US Pro crit championship.  Thank you.

RV: So Jared, looks like you all had a hard day out there today.  Could you comment on how the break formed?

JR: Yeah, we were gunning from the start.  I got the word in the radio that we were to push pace.  When we hit the downhill section I just went to the front and drove it as hard as I could.  When we got to the uphill, I swung off and saw that we had a small group of 10 and xXx had three in the group.  From there we just tried to keep the hammer down and stay out of site.  Looks like it worked.

RV: With this win, do you feel that your season has been validated?

JR: It helps with the confidence.  It’s been a long season and despite a lot of good results, until you get that W it makes for a stressful situation.  I mean, we’ve got a lot of good riders and we work really well together.  But when the victories keep eluding you, it makes you question yourself.

RV: Downer’s/Glencoe typically marks the end of the crit season, but this year there are a few more races.  What’s next on deck for you?

JR: I’m going to take some time off and then get BEEP, ready BEEP, for BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP…..

Stupid alarm clock – I was really enjoying that dream!  Oh well, it’s 7AM and time to get ready for a day of doubling up (Cat 4 and 30+ Open).  Wonder how it will all play out?

CAT 4
100 riders and a 10 turn technical course.  Considering there are about 40 of us who race regularly, I have no idea where the other 60 came from.  Stay up front and work our plan (we had 18 riders or so) is all I can think of.  Officials send us off and the pace goes ballistic from the beginning – which was expected.  I find Wolters and slot in behind him as we work towards the front.  Somewhere in lap three I got separated from him, but managed to find DJ to keep it moving.  Then the gaps started forming and I kept having to burn tons of matches to come around and maintain contact.  Long story short – pace stayed too hot, too long, on too hot of a day and I got ejected from the main group (which I am guessing is about 40) somewhere around 16 minutes in.  I got passed by a second group and eventually hooked up with a third group, which I would stay with for the rest of the race.

This being the PRO National Criterium Championships means one thing – if you’re out of contention, you will get early finished (i.e. pulled).  Whenever I went to Downers Grove (the traditional site of the Championships) that was my main objective, don’t get pulled.  So we’re about 20 minutes into this thing and all I can think about is where is that freaking pace car and where is the follow moto?  The moto answer was clear, it was right behind us, which meant that we were the last group on the course.

In our group was myself, Adam and DJ.  Adam and three other riders were at the front killing themselves.  I was about 6 wheels back yelling for people to take short pulls.  Let it be known that I wasn’t yelling because I wanted other people to do the work – I wanted them to pull off the front so I could help.  Our only chance of staying in the race was to keep the pace close to or above 25 mph.  I could help do that if I was on the front, but I didn’t have enough left in the tank (at that point) to come past 5 riders to get there.  Needless to say, despite not working all that well together, we somehow managed to keep the peloton about 25 seconds off our heels.

It’s funny sometimes what you remember of a race. Like Fowkes looking at this watch each time we came by the start line and the lap counter moving down ever so slowly.  Like seeing Wolters come back from the peloton and yelling at him to slot in with us.  Like slowing down at 3 to go and thinking we weren’t going to make it unless we picked it up.  I remember being on the back stretch and hearing the announcers yelling prime – 2 laps to go.  Well, at least I knew they were at the start finish and that we had some time.  And then came the final lap.

In cycling there is a gentlemanly rule – if you didn’t do all the work, you don’t take an unjust finish.  Adam and the three other riders did the lion’s share of the work so they deserved to come across the line before me.  But being fresh did allow me to do one final act of teamwork.  Between 3 and 4 I came up the left to get on the front (I told Adam during pre-race that I would lead him out if we found ourselves together at the end).  He saw me moving up and just slotted in behind me.  My job was to now push as hard as I could for as long as I could and not lose him in the process.  So I took the descents like I was in Tron and scurried up the rise like I was Schleck.  I delivered him as close as I could to turn 9, pulled off and then rode in (avoiding a crash caused by a blowout in turn 10).

Like my dream I rode across the line spent.  But Robbie was no where to be found this time and I had no idea where I finished.  I eventually made my way back to our team’s tent and learned that Adam took 1st out of our group.  I also learned that he got bad positioning at the start which put him so far back.  Too bad for both of us, I know that we were both looking to do well at this race.

30+ Open
Okay, so my second race was scheduled to start about 40 minutes after the finish of my first.  During this time I found out that in the 4’s, only 38 of the 100 riders finished on the lead lap.  Everyone else was either early finished or DNF.  What’s even more shocking is that in the lead group there were only 25 riders and our chase group was 1:34 behind them.  Me? I finished 33rd, Adam 28th, Owen 11th and that’s all I had time to see before something dawned on me.  Why are there masters riders rolling slowly behind the kids?  Crap, that’s my race!

Once they let me back across the road, I managed to get back to the tent, get my shoes and other gear on, get my old number off with the help of Nick and Meg (thank goodness I pinned it under my first) throw my bike over the barricade and get to the line (still somewhere in the middle of the pack).  The result?

The race didn’t start off as fast as the 4’s and there was tons of breaking for the first lap.  But it eventually strung out with the weaker riders getting pushed to the back or outright shed.  In the end, I got ejected (too much work for one day) and early finished somewhere around 21 minutes in.  Oh well, it was fun while it lasted and I could get an early start on my drive home to my daughter’s first birthday party (which meant I wouldn’t get yelled at for being too late).  It would also give me some time to think about just how poorly I had performed.

When you’re a competitor, you tend to be hard on yourself.  You tend to berate yourself whenever things don’t go your way.  Heck, you may even wonder why you do this thing at all.  There are the almighty highs and the cavernous lows.  And then there is reality.  When I was at the party my sister asked me how I did in the race and I told her that I finished 33/100.  Her response was “wow, that’s pretty good.  To finish 33rd out of that many racers is pretty impressive.” It was that statement that made me think “normal” for a second.  To you and I, 33rd is a failure when you are aiming for the podium.  It shows that you’re not all that strong and that you’re not on the top of your game.  But to all the normal people out there, it’s a far cry from what they could ever do on a bike.

So with that said, I’m not too disappointed with my results.  Besides, there’s always next week to try it all over again.  Until we meet again on the road…

Cat 4

Line up with 50+ other riders and have a good position.  Get a good clip in (which is hard because I run my peddle tension super high for sprinting purposes) and notice that they are stringing out as soon as we hit turn one.  Pace is high and doesn’t let up…for about 14 minutes straight.  I keep looking at the HR monitor but it doesn’t matter, I’m at 95% of my theoretical max so all I see is flashing numbers. Who is driving?  Fay and company – go figure.  Please make it stop!  I keep trying to cool down but it’s not working.  Pace would stay north of 26 mph for the duration of the race.

I’m sliding back, but I’m not worried because I’m only about 20 spots from the front.  We go around a few turns and I swear I hear the moto behind me.  I take a look back, I’m 2nd to last!  WTF?  Where is everyone else?  I gun it up the left during a straigtaway because there is no way I’m hanging out at the back.  Come around a turn and there is about 20 people pulled off on the left side of the road.  Hmmm, Pace Car must have told them to get out of the way (wrong delirious kid, there was a crash you didn’t hear).  4 to go, time to find a wheel.  There goes Q from P5…there goes Mr. Perez in the IU kit…those two wheels are about as good as it gets.

Pace slows way down with 3 to go.  Fay yells at the lead six “come on guys, let’s pick it up.” A rider yells back “what have you done?” They start arguing.  “Ryan, stay focused!” I yell from behind.  Squirrels are running rampant around the front of the pack.  I’d rather ride safe than go to work with a broken face.  Lose the good wheels but manage to stay close in the sprint.  Finish 11th.  Q and Mr. Perez?  1st and 7th respectively.  Spent 27 minutes at 95% and ran an average HR of 178 for 40 minutes of racing.  My threshold last year was 172.  Guess I have a new threshold?

30+ Open

I spent two hours eating and hanging out with teammates.  Get warmed up and ready to go for round two (course now includes a chicane). Pull up to the line but have to wait a little bit as one of the racers who just finished and is on the podium will be racing with us (woman from Team Mack).  Good, at least I will know one wheel I can follow because I am now entering foreign territory.  I know only a few of the riders but it doesn’t really matter, they’re all 1’s, 2’s or 3’s.  Can I not race?  I really don’t want to anymore.  I typically have to pee a billion times before a race.  This race?  My arms are literally shaking.  Adam tells me I have to race.  Riders ready?  Crap, here we go.

I get another good clip in and slot in about 5th wheel.  Riders start to peel off until I am second wheel.  Two riders come around and get about a 15 meter gap.  All I hear from behind me is “go get him.” Crap, I wasn’t ready to work just yet.  Lead rider pulls off and I start digging for about 30 seconds but I’m already not feeling it.  Roll off and reslot in somewhere towards the front.  Attacks keep coming – they’re trying to establish the break.  Average is about 4/10th of a mile slower than what we ran in the 4’s BUT, the accelerations to reel in the flyers are hurting me after already having raced.  We never braked in the corners or the chicane (so refreshing compared to the 4s) and were single file most of the time.  Crap, can we please slow this down?  Yeah right, get to the back of the train kid.  A good friend (Mike Shea) told me to just survive until the break got away, then things would calm down.  Too bad the break got away about 2 minutes AFTER I cracked off a massive acceleration to reel in the front riders.  27 minutes in, I waved the last two riders around and slowed down.

Can I quit?  Now just how will that look on the site?  DNF.  Not happening, I started it, I will finish it.  Adam and Meg gave me TDF cheers every time I came around (complete with running along the side of the course).  You’d be surprised just how much of a difference a cheer can make when your body is breaking down underneath you.  Lapped by the break at 39 minutes and by the field as we crossed the line for one to go.  Finished 24th out of 31 starters.  Not the best result, but I wasn’t DFL either.  Kid asks if I want a lemonade for 25 cents.  I tell him I’m wearing a skinsuit, I don’t have anything on me.  Meg offers to buy all three of us a cup.  Best 25 cent lemonade I ever had.  Plus one of Meg’s cupcakes to wash it down with – life is well now!

Next up?  Glencoe 4s and another 30+ open.  Why do I keep doing this?  Must be something in the Kool Aid…lemonade…cup cakes…

Overview:

-RAIN (Ride Across Indiana)- one day, 160 miles
-Approximately 1500 starters
-Mass start at 0700 in Terre Haute; ends at Earlham college in Richmond
-Sponsored by the Bloomington Bicycle Club
-bottle/food hand-offs allowed
-2010 winner finished in 6hrs20min
-mostly flat with some long, low grade inclines

Now, on to the fun part:

I came to this ride expecting an endurance challenge- what I found was a well-organized Gran Fondo-esque unsanctioned race. 1500 starters- 1200 finishers. Most come out to ride. A select few come out to compete.

This latter group forms a tight lead pack of approximately 50-100 riders, many of whom do have support vehicles. Let me be frank: these guys are haulin’ and not holding anything back. There were all the usual characteristics of a lengthy road race- crashes, failed bottle handoffs, et al. I had the opportunity to ride with this group for the first 90 miles until, having completely run out of food/water, I was forced to make a brief stop. During this time, there were instances I found myself in my highest gear, spinning a 100+ cadence, and still struggling to hang onto the slipstream.

The last 70 miles were a combination of bridging gaps from one small group of stragglers to another, battling heat and exhaustion, and managing nutrient intake. In the final analysis, this event was a great time. It didn’t have the hills of the Insane Terrain Challenge, but the length and racing atmosphere surely made up for it.

I have found that last year I put a lot of pressure on myself in races. This year I decided that I wasn’t going to do that. I wasore interested in stay consistant and growing a little, rather then fading over time. And so far this year that is what I have been able to do. The first few races a looked to stay in the top half and rarely even contested sprints. Then I started to formalize a training plan and I grew more and more confident in my form.

So I went in to this race confident in myself. I knew barring a crash I could determine where I finished. So I got there ready for 45 mins of action, except it was 35. Were I had thought a break would go in a 45 min race, I now knew it would be 35 mins of speed, especially without the rain to cause people to lose heart. 

The team had a lot of members in this race and we knew we could keep it pretty animated. I had a few wheels that I was looking out for but just planned to keep towards to the front and not waste time on primes.  The first half started fast with us laying down some hard attacks and me glad to sit in. About half way through I started to move up knowing that the 4’s have been crashy lately. Then came the first of prime laps and some guys move to front and I sit 6 or so back. We come around the last turn and they sprint and I cruise at a pretty fast pace. When I see them all sit up I drill it think less people in the end the better. We do this again, fast pace, sprint for prime, I sit in and then drill it afterwords. No reason to let anyone rest.

I see the final laps counting down and I am still up front and a long comes a teammate we trade 30 sec pulls while everyone else is uniterested in doing any work. On the back side of the 2nd lap to go I force my way off the front and take 3rd or 4th wheel. We gett the bell and I realize I am in good placing. Don’t crash in the 180 no reason to waste all the work. A tire explodes behind us on the backside, keep face foward and go. Get ready to sprint. We round the final turn and the front slows just a little. I knew that this was about 400m out and with a fast group I didn’t want to be swarmed in the finish. I also know I have been doing long solo sprints, so I could hold 400m. So I go. I see one wheel behind me, I push harder. I started to see one rider coming on the right, I now sprint all out. At the line it’s close and I throw. I come away happy with 5th. My best result so far this year and proof that everything is working. Possible one of the fastest races and I felt like I could go for a while longer.