solobreak

Vintage Mountain Biking

2012-01-08T11:54:00.003-05:00

Surf and Dirt MTB race, Orleans MA, 1995. Mark and Jason bookend the front row for Carver Cycles. I am obscured behind Brian McGinnis (Travis) and Jeff Gilman. Photo by Robin of course.

The TODAY Show -Nodcast 7

2011-12-04T23:06:00.011-05:00

Cyclocross Season

2011-10-17T20:29:00.012-04:00

Your hero, resplendent in his new Hasyun-Weebike GRAPE CRUSH kit, rocking the Sucker Brook course.

How about a quick round of uncreative writing? It's been a while. I'll begin by saying this is NOT the year. I need to get my knee scoped really soon, so I'm operating on one cylinder for the moment. I can't run, I can't jump, I can't sing. In the meantime - bike racing!

Cross season should just be starting. But it's been going for over a month. Fucked up, but beyond my control. If you can't beat them, join them, so I raced the double up in Vermont in September. Hands down the best venue in New England, at least when the weather is nice, which it was for the second year in a row. Totally cool atmosphere, awesome courses, lots of fun. The racing kind of sucked for me, as I'd just torched my knee and could barely walk, but pedaling was OK. I took a bunch of Advil and did my best. Rob took a bunch of pictures. Monday was ugly.

I just had to go check crossresults.com because I couldn't remember what came next -- Sucker Brook! My knee was still totally f'd but this one went pretty well regardless. Since I can't run, I'm starting at the back to avoid getting trampled at the first barrier. This causes me to pace myself and actually ride the races negative split style. SB had a smaller than average field too, with the big gunners doing the 1/2/3 and others skipping out, so I ended up 11th in the 42 rider 45+ field.

Gloucester - I was pre-regged like six months ago, because you have to in order to get in. Sucker Brook had practically left me in a wheelchair, so my race-readiness was doubtful. But, with the promoter openly ridiculing his race participants on twitter for having the audacity to ask for a refund even though he had a huge waiting list, I was left with no choice but to pick up my numbers, just to keep him from reselling the spot and pocketing the extra $45/day. I'd rather take two DNFs, and the SAT-like crossresults scores that went with them.

Saturday's course was shitloads of running. I skipped it and hoped for better on Sunday. Which it was. At least there was some flow, as opposed to Saturday, which seemed thrown together. I started pretty far back, but the first lap went well, and I even got on the handlebar cam. But you've probably already seen it. However, just after riding away from bar cam guy, I railed the turn behind the backstop, rolled the front tire and dumped it.

This left me pretty upset. Until that moment, I'd never rolled a tire in 25 years of racing on tubulars. Hmmm. My faith in 3M Fasttack was shaken, even though this particular tire had been glued on two years ago. Upon investigation though, I realized/remembered that I hadn't used Fasttack for this set. These were the first Challenge tires I'd purchased, so I used the hallowed Vittoria Mastick instead. Raced on them in California a few times, but for the most part they just sat in storage out there. Until it rolled off, ending my 2011 G-ster campaign after a glorious half lap.

I sat Providence out. I wasn't going to preregister, just in case I got my surgery scheduled in time. We went down to watch and hang out, but I saved the $90 and did not race. BTW, I did not do either of the mid-week night races, not so much due to injury, but because I am too old for that shit.

That brings us up to this past weekend. Saturday I went bike riding. My knee felt good. So long as I don't run, jump, try to bend/straighten it fully. So I went to the MRC CX race on Sunday. Did the 1/2/3, as the masters race was early in the morning, and I'm getting really used to not getting up early. I also had a single speed bike with me, just in case I wanted to do that race.

This was my first time at this venue. Years ago there was a cross race right across the street, at the "snowmobile farm," which was hilly. The fairgrounds ? (appeared to be a vacant lot with a tent on it) where the race is now was mostly flat, except for one big hill that went up into some dude's yard. The course seemed OK at first glance, but after racing on it I have to give it the solobreak Seal of Disapproval (S.O.D.) Here is why. (or have a look for yourself. If you make it through this snooze-fest, you'll see that for some reason the 45+ race skipped the flyover, but it was back later in the day when I raced)

Somewhere in the rulebook that nobody reads, it says something like "cross courses shall be a mix of all kinds of shit, with shit sections alternating with OK sections in order to give the riders a chance to recuperate between more difficult shitty sections and less difficult shitty sections" The MRC course did not adhere to this rule. All of the more difficult shitty sections were strung together in one big lump. When you got to the bottom of the world's jankiest flyover (more on that in a minute), you were thrust into boggy/tacky SLOW muck. Cool right? Yes, pure power. It went for about 100 meters, then some barriers which were actually a rest area, a Twizzler feed zone, then another 200 meters of bog grass. That lead to the homestretch, which was flat and sort of paved, straight into the wind, i.e. a power section. At the end of said straightway, there was a fucking hill. On tacky grass. Into the wind. If you made it to the top of that, you descended for about three seconds before turning around and climbing the fucking hill again. This time, at the top, there was a weave back and forth section of tight turns. I was so sick of pedaling by then (and you know I LOVES me pedaling) I just jumped off and ran. Another nanosecond of descending, u-turn, back up the hill to the highest point on the course. End of more difficult shitty section.

From there the rest of the course was the "rest" of the course. About 80 slow-assed turns strung together one after another, sometimes with a few pedal strokes in between. Most of them were single-line, loose, and slow. Leading back to the flyover...

I am a pragmatic mofo. I can understand that having a flyover opens up a lot of possibilities to the course designer, perhaps making it worth the effort. But I have to give this one the Lamest Use of a Flyover Ever award. Having a cross course that can cross itself is kind of cool. You can have a modified figure-8, and an equal number of left hand and right hand turns. There were lots of places they could have put it and done just that. And broken up the more difficult shitty sections, interspersing them with some of the less difficult shitty sections while they were at it. But they didn't. For some reason, the flyover was tucked way over in the corner of the field. I can only imagine they were hiding it to avoid a surprise visit from Mr. Building Inspector. But upon descending, you just made tight loop, clockwise, same as the course, and rode under.

W.

T.

F.

???????

Anyway, I have no fitness, especially with only a half lap of racing in the past two weeks. So I sucked. After two laps, the onebigfuckingmoredifficultshittysection got to me, and I cracked and sat up. After the 75 slow-assed turn section, I was recovered, and started trying to focus again, but then I got lapped by the eventual winner, who I think was one of Reuter's two-hundred housemates.

If I'd any brains I'd have called it a day, but since I'd spent over an hour getting my single speed bike ready, I lined up for that too. They had a Lemans start, great for me now that I can't run. I went through the motions, but climbing the sucky hill on a 42x19 blew dogs. I didn't get lapped though, and finished a 40 minute race after finishing a 50 minute race, making for 90 minutes of cyclocross. Honest to god, I sat on the tailgate of my car motionless for fifteen minutes regaining my composure. So it had that going for it.

So, not too creative. Maybe tomorrow, or later in the week. I'm really tired of hearing all the whining about sandbagging BTW. And age groups. Last time I checked, everyone has exactly one age. Every sport has age groups. From Little League to pro golf. It is the most sensible way to handicap competitors. Categories on the other hand, are totally arbitrary. In case you didn't notice, we have them on the road not because riders have different physical abilities, but because road racing pack dynamics dictate that all participants adhere to group norms in order to keep the mess reasonably safe and orderly. Riders of a given category tend to behave more or less the same, making things predictable. Somewhere along the line someone got the idea that extending this concept to competitions like MTB and cyclocross, which do not have pack racing per se, was a good idea. Now you have totally arbitrary, largely self-assigned handicapping. Of course it's a shit show. Thanks for reading.

420!

2011-08-28T07:17:00.000-04:00

Bang a Gong

2011-08-27T04:39:00.002-04:00

It's 4:35 am and I have to meet Mr. StartFinishBikeNews in less than an hour for the drive out to D2R2. I'm signed up for one of the old man D2R2 Light routes, because I haven't been active enough to take on the real D2R2. If I don't lose power tomorrow, maybe I'll blog about it. Thanks for reading.

Ashmont Train Mutherfuckas!

2011-06-21T22:05:00.007-04:00

OK, I stole that title from AFM. But, since we're lacking content around here lately, theft is on the table. So is recycling, and that's exactly what I'm about to do, recycle an email that I sent to Shah-bow earlier today. You see, our hillbilly hero from South Canada, aka Northern Vermont was getting some advice on how to navigate the T from Kendall Square to the $65 a night Motel 6 in Braintree that the skinflint was using for A BUSINESS TRIP! But since there would be alcohol involved, public transit was preferred, and I guess the Quincy Marriot was just too pricey for the already over budget turd polisher project. With any luck he'll be able to scam a few Natty Lights from the wife-beater clad dudes in the room next to his, saving a few more bucks. And of course more good news is that the Red Line is a straight shot from Cambridge to Braintree, with one caveat: the fork in the line. I reminded him to make sure he got his drunken ass on a train marked "Braintree" and not "Ashmont." Which reminded me of a story. Somehow I think maybe I told this one before, but I searched the blog and found no traces, so here goes.

You guys know that I'm a Red Sox fan of sorts. Never been to a Bruins game, nor a Celtics game, and only once went to a Patriots exhibition game. But as a (poor) kid, somehow I still managed to go to a shitload of Red Sox games, and these days I try to attend at least once a year. In elementary school, we used to take a private Brush Hill Transit bus from Stoughton into Mattapan, where we would get the trolley, go to Ashmont, get on the subway, go to Park Street, and then take the green line to Fenway for the afternoon games. I hope all you overprotective parents are paying attention here. Blows me away that people don't let their kids do anything these days. But anyway, one time we go and we of course we spend nearly every dime we have on Sports Bars, cokes, etc. Getting into the game was only 50 cents sometimes when they had the after-school special on right field grandstands. Bleachers were $1.25 at the time. So we each save a quarter for the ride home. The private bus didn't run at night, so my Dad (who would be 82 today, Happy Birthday Dad) was picking us up in the 'pan.

But... we make the mistake of getting on a Quincy line train, which was brand-new at the time (and did not go all the way to Braintree either), and so it confused us, as in the past all Red Line trains went to Ashmont, where you got a free transfer to the trolley.. We get to North Quincy and realize our mistake, but luckily that train deck is in the middle of the tracks, and we can just get out and get right on an inbound train without paying again. But geniuses that we are, we get out at Andrew, where the platforms are on the outside of the tracks. We leave the station... And cannot get back in the outbound side. The guy at the counter is a dick and won't let us in for free, even though we are obviously helpless kids from the suburbs, and not urban hoodlums. Nightfall is approaching. This is in the days before cell phones of course. We use our one remaining thin dime to call Mom at home. Collect, because it is long distance. She calls my Uncle Joe back at the Foley homestead in Hyde Park, and he drives to Mattapan to tell my father of our plight. My dad is there, and has already rescued three of our other stupid friends who had also gone to the game, successfully made there way back to Mattapan, and then realized they too were stranded because the private bus didn't run after 5 pm. So my dad drives in to Andrew and finds us huddled on the sidewalk in big bad Dorchester (just a few blocks from Upham's Corner where my Mom grew up, but still...). Then he gets into it with the T guy who wouldn't let us in, and the guy calls the cops, so we all pile into the Oldsmobile and flee the scene. Good times.

So of course there are a few morals to this story. One, let your fucking kids out of your sight once in a while, so maybe when they're 50 they won't just be writing stories about how they played X-box and went on play dates and took ballet lessons. And two, ASHMONT TRAIN MOTHERFUCKERS! Unless you're Jerry, then make sure you take Braintree.

Douching it up at AToC

2011-05-23T11:25:00.002-04:00

Doing the dirty work.

Our boy Ted relaxes in the TT starthouse.

Saturday it was on to Glendora Mountain Road for the Mt. Baldy stage. There is a peloton and caravan down there someplace. This is the road I rode up.

The main field comes through.

Not much riding for me yet, just spectating. Our friends at Rabobank hooked us up with hospitality tent passes for the TT in Solvang on Friday. Food, drink, and schwag, what more could I ask for? Saturday I did get to ride a little bit, doing the main descent on the course and then riding back up to watch at the KOM. Yesterday I rode over to the Balcom Canyon KOM (only about eight miles from the house), rode down it, came back up (nearly put a foot down, no fitness) but did not stick around for the race to come through. We again did the Wayne's World thing with VIP passes, this time from United Healthcare, so we beelined over to Thousand Oaks in time to take in the five laps on the finishing circuit. Schwag haul even better!

Now that's over with and it's time to work on my fitness. Weather looks decent, mid 60s forecast for the entire week. Having ridden three hours total in the past two weeks, this might hurt. Should have time to update later. Thanks for reading.

Half a Season Off

2011-05-16T06:27:00.003-04:00

Yo Adrian! I'm down but not out. Today I'm coming off an eight day stretch of not riding a bike. For that matter, I haven't run, or done anything specifically athletic at all during that time. My fitness is... poor right now. But I'm not allowing myself to get too depressed about it, and in fact I sort of planned it this way. You see, over the winter, burnout reared its head quite significantly for me. Last winter (and to a lesser degree the two winters prior), I did not take much of a break from training. With CX races in December, running in January, and favorable weather for riding during the early spring, my training year wound up extending to twelve months. The road bike race calendar starts early these days, so you have to train a lot in February and March to do well. And summer is summer. Then fall, where 10ks and CX keep me busy every weekend. Add it all up and around Christmas 2010 I was completely cooked.

A month off from the bike did nothing it seemed. Maybe that was because I ran enough to finish the Boston Prep 16. But mostly I think it was a deeper fatigue, both mental and physical. I saw my doctor and got my blood checked, and we talked about the dizzy spells I sometimes experience, and she asked me if I eat enough. Yeah I know, hard to believe. My blood numbers were a little better than they were in the fall, but my HCT is still only around 40%, discouraging for a wannabee athlete, but not abnormal. So I started eating more, and the dizzy spells disappeared, but in their place I got my luv handles back. At 175 pounds I'm up over 3 kg from where I stayed in 2008-2009 (yes I mix metric and Ronnie Ray-Gun measures, deal with it), but blogging isn't the only thing I've been skipping out on; I haven't been training much.

Why? Well besides burnout, the winter sucked in New England if you didn't notice. So if there was ever a good time for an extended break, this was it. I've also been busier than usual at the workplace. Instead of just talking to myself, I have more people listening to me lately, so I've spent a lot more time figuring out what to say. My capacity for stuff other than relaxing is quite limited, so more of one thing means less of everything else, hence more job = no blogging, less training. Another issue was that my body still refuses to allow me to maintain a regular schedule of running without it complaining about something. This time it was my calf, the one that had a shit fit during the Paddy Kelly 5 miler. I nursed it along for several weeks, but eventually gave up on running almost entirely. By the time it was healed (at least I think it must be), riding season was here and with limited time to get out I've been on the bike whenever possible. It's not like I've been completely sedentary, but with only 70 hours or so on the season, my total volume at this point (running and riding) is less than half what it's been the past several years.

I've tried to make up for it by training harder when I do get out, but that's been offset by a lack of racing. My normal m.o. generally involves just riding, but doing it often, and racing every weekend possible. Not to say I "race my way into shape" like so many others try to do, but I don't slave over intervals on the trainer either. I ride a lot because I like to, and I think those "junky" miles are still beneficial for things like polishing my pedaling technique, and they lay the base for the intensity of racing, which is where the critical abilities get developed. But you have to do the hard stuff sometime, so since I'm not competing (no running races since the PK5, and only two Ninigrets on the bike), when I get out on my bike I've actually been trying to make it count. More on that later maybe.

So what about the past eight days? Certainly not a weather issue. No, this week was something I've known about for a while, and one of the big reasons why I decided to skip the spring road season. Moving! After almost 21 years, cleaning up, packing up, and moving ALL my shit was quite a project, even though I only went about 30 feet west to the other (bigger) side of the duplex. Hence the swap meet to try to unload some of this stuff (plenty more left, I'll post a list soon, promise). This past week was D-Day, or M-Day as it were, thus I had ZERO formal workouts, but plenty of work. Today I'm finally all-out after being all-out for eight days (did not take any time off work either) and now I'm all-in the new side. Things might sort of return to normal. First I'm off to AToC on Thursday for the Solvang, Baldy, and T.O. stages. Keep your fingers crossed that Ted King stays in until I get there this time. That's it, we're out of time, gotta go, more later this week! Thank you for your patience, come again.

Swap Meet

2011-04-25T13:03:00.000-04:00

This Saturday, April 30 at the Northeast Velodrome in Londonderry, NH. I will be there trying to sell stuff. Will try to post a list and some pictures tonight. Make plans now! Thanks for reading.

Mega Product Review Post

2011-03-26T06:37:00.011-04:00

You've waited a month, so I'll put some effort into this, but not too much. I'm not sure how much energy I'll have for things like fact checking, so don't get too excited over any details. You have been warned.

All the goodies. Bike, trainer, power meter, tires. Let's do this.

Motobecane Le Champion Something

This will be not so much a product review as a history lesson (surprise!) and long-term road test report. The Motobecane name goes back a long way in cycling. There was a time when French bikes were the thing. My first 10 speed was a Lapierre, picked up used in the early 70's, when I was 11 or 12. It came complete with Mafac brakes, Simplex derailleurs, and a "Tour de France" decal on the top tube. Though a thousand times nicer than the Schwinn Varsities, Sears Free Spirits, and Fleetwings ridden by my punkus domesticus contemporaries, the bike was really just a "bike boom" low-end import. But I rode the shit out of it. Later in the decade during my brief foray into high school, my 10th grade business teacher Mr. Law used to commute to South Easton from Cambridge, a rather impressive feat. One day I asked him what kind of bike he rode, and he said a Motobecane. This influenced me into thinking they must be decent bikes.

Fast forward another several years to 1984. I had not touched a bike since, well, the Lapierre fell apart, or was stolen; I really don't remember. Deciding I needed to get some aerobic exercise, I went bike shopping. The shop I ended up in carried three makes: Schwinn, Motobecane, and some new, super expensive bikes called Cannondales. I was on a budget, and the low end Schwinns did not seem so great. Heavy. But the Motobecane Nomade was priced at just $169. I bought one, a 25" frame. Yeah, I know. Turned out it was not such a great bike either, but it got me going and I worked my way up to about 30 miles at a stretch. One thing led to another and a few years later I upgraded to a racing bike, went to Wells Ave, and the rest is history...

Fast forward again for another twenty years, and it's 2006. I'd had only one foot in the sport while attending night school, and my 1994 Slim Chance was my primary ride, having not purchased a new bike in quite a while. Racing regularly again and finding 10-cog cluster were the current norm had me jonesing for a new bike. But my funds were limited. I'm all for supporting the local LBS, but at that time I did not have a shop sponsoring my club, and this new website called bikedirect.com had just appeared. This site had incredible prices on bikes with top-notch components. Most of them were Motobecanes. I thought this was strange, as French bikes hadn't been popular in US racing since the Peugot PX-10s of the late 80s. And the prices were so low, something smelled fishy. Researching revealed that the guy who owned the domain also owned a chain of around thirty bike shops in Texas. Motobecane had gone bankrupt a few years prior. This guy had bought the rights to use the name in the US from them at the liquidation. So now the "real" Motobecanes were marketed as "MBK" in Europe, and they even sponsored a ProTour team or two. But the bikesdirect.com Motobecanes had nothing to do with them. This guy had just figured the name had value in the US because old fucks like me still associated it with good bikes. Like so many other manufacturers, he was having bikes contract-built in Taiwan, and slapping the recognizable brand name on them. What was unique was that he was selling them direct to consumer over the internet as complete bikes, which was not common at that time. And he was spec'ing them with top-shelf components rather than no-name stuff.

The model I selected was this aluminum frame with carbon fork. It came with Ultegra 6600 10 speed shifters, Cane Creek brakes, FSA carbon compact crank, Ritchey cockpit, and American Classic AC 420 wheels shod with Vittoria tires. For $1295 delivered. Even at that time this was a rock bottom price. The wheels alone were around $700 on the internet. Despite having some reservations I took a chance and pulled the trigger. The bike came a week or so later, in a box just like bikes normally arrive at a bike shop. Everything was the way it was supposed to be. Incredible.

The wheels were nice and light but I was never comfortable on them. They felt flimsy so I traded them to a team mate for the cheap aluminum TT bike I still ride. He was psyched and thought I was out of my mind, but whatever. The rest of the stuff has held up well. The fit of this bike was strange, it is marked a 58 but the seat tube is 55 c-to-c and the top tube is short as well. Currently I have a 130mm -17 stem with a few spacers. I've changed that, the saddle, and swapped the annoying 2-bolt Ritchey post for a more manageable Thomson. I'm still running the FSA (FailStayAttached) crank. A lot of people seem to have issues with these. Mine is an ISIS BB, and I've been through a few of those. Some of them suck. As far as crankarms falling off goes, I've had no issues. The torque specification is quite high, way tighter than I ever cranked an Octalink or square taper, so I suspect the people having problems are simply undertightening.

I'd ridden aluminum road bikes before when I rode for a Cannondale shop. Those were the earlier "3.0" frames with the cantilevered dropouts. They all had alignment problems and I never liked them so much, but I won races on them. Asking around, I was told the "Motobecane" f/f was made by Kinesis and was the same as the then-current Fuji. I don't know if this is true, but the frame rides pretty well and has held up for five years. The fork has always felt a little bouncy to me, but I've noticed that on other bikes as well (my Madone being an exception) so maybe fork splay is just my pet peeve. Truth be told, realizing this thing was five years old inspired me to write this post. Got to wonder whether racing a five year old aluminum bike with a carbon FSA crank is a good idea anymore? Though it has never been my only bike, and thus the mileage on it probably equates to only three full seasons or so, the thing has been around.

I would certainly buy this bike again. Bikesdirect.com is still in business, but having established themselves as legitimate, their offerings are not quite the value they once were. People used to buy the bikes, especially the Dura-Ace ones, just to strip the parts. You used to be able to scoop up an entire bike for the internet price of just a group. That does not seem to be the case anymore. The prices are higher, and the parts pics are generally not as rich. When they are, the bikes disappear. It's also a shame that most production aluminum bikes have been relegated to the lower end of the market. I realize that Taiwanese carbon bikes are pretty damn good, representing quite a value, but to me there's something about a nicely welded aluminum sculpture too. They make good race bikes, especially for criteriums, which is where I use mine. I don't want to worry about wrecking my $2500 carbon frame in a silly pileup. Not that those don't happen in road races, but in a flat crit I don't need the tiny advantages my lighter carbon bike provides either.

What you were expecting me to take the pic with some awesome peak power number on the display? I continue to disappoint... #winning

CycleOps PowerTap Pro+

Almost two years ago I broke down and bought a power meter. For several years I'd poo-poo'd them, mostly because the power zealots I knew were pretty obnoxious when extolling the virtues of this revolutionary new way to regulate ones training. Lots of my fellow racers bought powermeters, THEN got off their asses and started a focused training program, maybe improved a tiny bit, then wouldn't shut up about how anyone training without one was wasting their time. When you pay $1000 for something that shits the bed every other ride (causing you to insist the entire group stop at the side of the freezing cold road while you fiddled with the wire and cursed repeatedly about how the entire ride was a complete waste if you couldn't record your power data) then you have to convince yourself it was a good investment.

I like training data as much as the next person, but I also think I recognize what equipment is truly important. Unless you have all the money you need to outfit yourself with the best stuff then you need to make choices. I must have heard two dozen people tell me you "had" to buy a PM, and that it was much more important than something like say, deep dish wheels. To which I call bullshit. The deep wheels will make you faster whether you train or not. Racing without them is a handicap. But you can train effectively without a power meter. Honest. It was done for decades...

However, time marched on, and eventually PowerTap evolved, losing its wires first, and getting a more reliable (according to the ad copy) wireless transmission mode later. The price stayed about the same, which is the current smart strategy in the electronics biz. Adding features and making improvements with a steady price protects your margins (see APPL for details). The Pro+ version of the hub in the picture retails for around $875 on the internet. A princely sum no doubt, but with quality hubs such as a Dura-Ace or DT240 now going for close to $400, the premium for power sensing ain't that bad anymore. That is not to say the build quality of this thing matches those. Honestly I don't know. This model has a 12 mm alloy axle and an aluminum cog carrier as upgrades from the much heavier Elite+, which saves you around a hundred bucks over the Pro+. The SL+ and SLC+ cost hundreds more. Those have carried a 15 mm alloy axle all along, and a slightly lighter hub shell. Not sure if the cassette carrier on those is titanium or not, but for the price difference it should be. More on that in a minute. The most expensive version comes with ceramic bearings. Recent ad copy says the Pro+ now has a 15mm axle too. I've read advice that said to stay away from the earlier Pro+ due to the 12mm alloy axle (which matches the diameter of the steel Elite+), but I've had no issues with mine. But for sure you have to wonder why the high end product had the larger design. Looking at CycleOps webpage now, I don't see any announcement about the reason for the change to the Pro+, but the price has increased a bit. So if you're buying one of these this year, make a note as there's still stock of the older ones out there.

This one has been reliable. I don't use it in the rain if I can help it, but I've had no problems. The 2.4 ghz ANT+ setup works great. I purchased mine as a complete setup from wheelbuilder.com. It came with the CycleOps Cervo 2.4 Pro computer unit. I spec'd a DT 465 rim and 32 Sapim CX Ray spokes. Normally I build my own wheels, but I went the purchase route for a few reasons. I'd never done something large-flange like a powertap, and I really wanted to have the CX Ray spokes, but did not know where to get them and get the length correct. They are expensive. More importantly, wheelbuilder.com sells custom-cut disc covers. Ordering the whole schebang together and having them do all the work just made sense. I specified 3x lacing and brass nipples (huh-huh) because the few wheel failures I've had with my own wheels were mostly due to alloy nipples cracking.

As you can see, the powertap has 9700 km on it. The wheel is still perfect. Not surprising, as it's a pretty burly rim with 32 spokes. I'm not sure why they did it identical instead of mirror-image, but I suspect it's either because of the large flange or for dishing reaasons. They are a quality shop and the wheels are laced by hand, that much I know. I would buy from them again. The wheel cover is pretty nice, heavy but it does the job. If I had it to do over again though I would have spec'd a heavier aero rim. I've seen their covers with Zipp wheels before and the cover mates up flush against the rim. With the DT 465 they needed to leave a small gap to avoid the braking track. If I'd gone with the heavier aero 565 it would be better I suspect. And there is obviously no need to spend $45 extra for aero spokes when the cover is in place. But this would be my one and only PowerTap wheel, so I opted for versatility.

That's the downside. This wheel is still not something I want to race on. It's too heavy and slow, even with the fancy spokes. I use it for TT's with the cover and some of my training, but I've only used it in a few crits, and maybe never in a road race with hills. As a bonus pain in the ass, my TT bike is a 9 speed. So to swap I have to remove the cassette, and install or remove the cover. Which in itself is not a huge chore. But the alloy freehub body is pretty soft, and the cassettes tend to gouge their way into the splines. You have to pry the thing off and then clean it up with a file. Which is the big reason this thing only has 9700k on it, which represents maybe 30-40% of my road miles since I've owned it. But it works well, especially the speedometer. Very nice to have no sensors on the bike, as the hub is totally self-contained. Which makes switching it from bike to bike very easy. And a reason why I need to get all 9 speed out of my life. The built in HRM is not that great. The strap is not as reliable as a Polar, and does not work with a Polar either. So sometimes I wear both. I still like the Polar software and its calendar view of your training. I have six years of continuous data for both running and riding and I'm not ready to give that up.

Bringing us to software. The power zealots all rave about WKO+. I have never used it. For one, I have bought a shitload of commercial software in the past, and probably only ended up using about 10% of it enough to justify what I paid. And I sure as shit don't want to pay for updates. And that crap is windows only. So no way am I buying it. The PowerAgent software that comes with the PowerTap is java and slow as shit, but it is fine for analyzing a single ride. There is no calendar view though. And no "performance manager" type of thing that uses "TSS" and all the other WKO+ crap. But the open source program GoldenCheetah has all of that, runs on all major computing platforms, and is supported by an excellent team. The project is very active and constantly improved. So if you want that performance manager stuff, this is what you should use.

The concept is pretty cool. If you don't know how it works and want to, there is plenty of information on the web if you take the time to understand it. But I don't really use it. I would rather have a more spiffy calendar view anyway. That's not the main reason I'm not a believer though. My indifference to the whole TSS thing is because it wouldn't do to much for me. For it to have a ton of value, I think you'd need to use the powermeter and save the data nearly for 100% of your training, for a long period of time. If you have significant "training stress" coming from activities other than bicycle riding, then you'd have to find a way to deal with that too. (BTW, this is a good article. Ignore the source.) Since I don't use mine all the time, and I ride CX, and run, and I do other shit like beat up tires with a sledgehammer, "CTL" and "ATL" don't do me much good. And seriously, do you need a computer to measure your ATL? I can see where this might be pretty useful for a pro who rides 25 hours a week and doesn't do much else, but I just walk up the stairs to visit my friends who work on the third floor. Tells me what I need to know.

So what do I find the power meter useful for? 1) pacing in TTs and long intervals. Yes it is true. It helps for sure. I learned about going out too hard and how it whacks your perceived effort by doing running races. You suffer like a dog and perceive max effort as you go slower and slower each mile. Bike TTs are not different. Funny thing is that years ago I think I naturally held back more in the early stages of long TTs, and did well as a result. Somewhere along the line I started trying too hard. The power meter will show you that even though the first minute or two feels SO EASY, you're pushing 450 watts and will be petering out in another few minutes. Same thing for doing 30 minute cruise intervals, though I generally manage to pace those pretty effectively on my own. 2) Putting a number on your sprint efforts. Definitely nice to have. It's just hard to tell how good a set of sprints is otherwise, as there are so many variables that affect speed, etc. 3) Measuring energy consumption. I went PRO with this, going to the lab, getting my energy expenditure measured via RER and all that, and correlating it to both my power output and my HR. FWIW, I've found that if you setup a Polar with your body weight correct and you VO2 max correct, the energy expenditure values it gives are generally within 10-20% of what you get from the PowerTap. The variability being the way your HR acts depending on fatigue, caffeine, etc. The more intense the effort, the closer the two track (Polar's OwnCal method does not work at super low intensity like walking). OK, I'm bored with this now. Moving on...

Wheelbuilder.com laced the spokes identical rather than mirror-image. I'm not sure why, but it's held up just fine.

Kurt Kinetic Rock and Roll Trainer

It's big, it's bad, it's quiet, it's been discontinued.

Last but not least (ok, maybe least, I'm tired of this and I need to ride) the Kurt Kinetic Rock and Roll trainer. In short, this is a great trainer. The entire bike assembly is rubber-mounted, allowing the bike to rock back and forth. It still sits up straight, but when you stand the bike is not fixed, so you can rock it properly against your pedaling moving. In other words, the bike rocks under you and you stay in one place. I still see riders who have trouble with this. Too many riders think they have to sit down all the time, and only stand when they are in trouble. Standing is a good way to use different muscles, and you should practice it. I wonder if some people don't pay attention when they watch pros race on TV. Those guys stand all a lot. I still see some people standing with their bikes not rocking, while their bodies oscillate back and forth over the bike. WRONG! Of course, on any trainer but this one, if you stand then that is what you have to do. So this is way superior. And it has to reduce stress on the bike, as it has some "give" to the stresses you're applying.

The resistance unit is smooth and quiet. With these tires, it takes about 200 watts for me to maintain just 25 kph. But if I slow down the power falls off nicely, so you can ride very easy if you want to. Doing seated intervals is no problem. There is plenty of resistance with standard road gearing. More than enough. For standing, like most trainers, there is not going to be enough resistance to hold back your very best sprint quite the same as on the road during the jump phase, even in a 52x11. But it's better than most, and in a big gear I can stand and not spin out if I'm pretending to climb tempo up a steep hill. Downsides to this trainer are its huge footprint, non-portability, and high cost. This one is an early model too, so if you have 180 cranks and a size 47 shoe, you're going to hit the clamp with your heel. With 175's and 43.5 shoes I can hit it if I try. Kurt offered to replace the whole thing when I notified them of this, but I passed as it is not really an issue for me. But beware if you're looking at one of these on the used market. The newer green models have a different clamp which should be fine for Bigfoots.

That is all for now. Thanks for continuing to visit my mostly dormant and always boring, un-proofread blog. Come again.

Why I usually train alone

2011-03-26T06:04:00.001-04:00

Nicely written piece about behavior on group rides. Remember, motorists don't just hate bikes. They (we) hate each other too. Everyone is in the way. Don't take it personal. Thanks for reading.

Five years

2011-02-21T14:33:00.003-05:00

OK, so I missed the fifth anniversary of solobreak.blogspot.com. 813 posts, but not so many lately. It wasn't a plan to abandon it, and no, I'm not distracted by facebook (still do not use it), it's just that I haven't felt like writing. A few ideas for posts have come and gone, but nothing made it. And it's the off-season, so this being primarily a bike racing blog and all, there hasn't been much to cover.

Truth be told, this winter has been a disaster for me from an athletic perspective. After cx season, I took a planned break of about three weeks or so. I did not take any break last winter, and had a great year as a result, but by August it was a struggle just to get out for fun rides. I ran during my break though, and that went decent. Went under five minutes at the Millenium Mile again, crossing in 4:58, exact same as last year. Then there were less races on the schedule, but I finished the Boston Prep 16 with gas in the tank and no injuries. But I've been slow, and confined to a treadmill during the week, because, well, this winter has sucked. So I was looking forward to the Paddy Kelly 5 miler in Brockton last weekend. I've done this race something like four out of the past five years, and it's been a great winter benchmark for my speed.

And that went shitty. Back at the Millenium Mile, I got a nasty "knot" in my calf near the end. It took a week to go away. I've had these before. Playing internet doctor, I'm learning these are actually tears in the fascia, sort of compartment syndrome. The muscle/leg pumps up with blood from the effort, and a small tear develops deep in the calf. Well, I bounced back after the MM, with some rest and easy running. But this is what I get for no speedwork, no outdoor running, no hills. At Brockton I was having a GREAT race. I wasn't fast, but I went out at 6:20 pace and was totally in control. For the first three miles, the splits were perfect, I wasn't breathing hard, and I had 10-15 bpm in reserve for going full gas at the end. But halfway through mile four my calf started to feel "tight." I've never stopped to walk in a race of any length, much less a five miler. I wasn't slowing down, but as the mile four marker approached, the pain went from "annoying" to "shit, you're doing damage." I stopped and tried to shake it out. I still got to the marker at 25:30, but I was toast. I had to walk most of the way to the finish, getting there in 37 something. Fuck.

That was eight days ago. The calf is better now, but I'm going to give it more time. Not that I can run anyway. This weekend I finally got sick, sick as a dog, and wasted the three days completely useless and in misery. So that ended my attempts to at least ride the trainer every day, since I couldn't run. Like I said, disaster. Could be worse, sure. Nothing serious. But I've only got like six hours on the bike THIS YEAR, all of it indoors. My weight is the highest it's been in probably six years. Small wonder, as in lieu of training I have been going out a lot. There will be no need for a weighted vest on my early season training rides. But fuck it.

The insanity of the cycling community and its January training regimens looks totally bizarre from this vantage point. I don't get it. People train more in January than they do in the summertime. Anyway, I have a plan in my head to get back on track. I really want to keep running, so I hope I can get through that. On the bike, I don't think I want to be so serious about the road this year, but once the season starts that's subject to change. I had a lot of fun doing cx though, so maybe that has something to do with my lack of urgency right now.

All right, now that is some crappy writing. You'd think if I wasn't training I could at least find time to write something decent. Sorry. Thanks for checking in anyway.

Boston Prep 16 and my running story

2011-01-25T05:13:00.011-05:00

I had a witty title all made up, and a theme to go with it, but I forgot them both. Such is life at my advanced age, and that sums up the way my running races have been going too. There's a reason awards get segregated by age (and they do this from the time you're 3 years old, so get used to it). I am getting slower, or so it seems. That's a lot of weak verbs and we're only four sentences into this. Told you my writing sucks lately too.

Most of you know that I'm not really a runner. I ride bikes, and have raced them for almost 25 years, which also happens to be almost half my life. Running is another story. For the record, I was not an athlete from the time I finished Little League until I started bike racing twelve years or so later. I recall the first few winters that I was a serious rider, those being 86-87 and 87-88 as being pretty rough, sort of like this one. I didn't own a lot of riding clothes or a trainer, and there were no fancy lights for night riding. So I tried running, as what the hell, I was already doing "cyclocross" that first winter up at the BRC training series. I recall doing laps at Field's Park in Brockton with Robin, who I'd met at the old Hojo's Wednesday night training rides. And my calves would get sore, my knees would get sore, everything would hurt. I was already used to doing rides of a couple of hours, without too many ill effects, so being brutalized by less than an hour of running made the activity just seem so damaging. As soon as the roads cleared and the days lengthened I'd get back on the bike and forget running.

Every fall, or almost every fall, I'd do cross and dabble in running again, but never really got past the DOMS that came with it. I wasn't consistent enough. Cross was beating the shit out of my body too, and I was never totally free of nagging injury to begin with. Of course I tried to "cross train" too, because we were athletes, right? Around '90 I moved from lifting weights in my basement to working out at a local gym. Exercise science wasn't quite what it is today, but I did OK in retrospect, following advice from the old Eddie B book as well as other sources. Now I wish that I knew then what I know now, and maybe better understood my natural asymmetry and other physical issues, and maybe I could have prevented more injuries. But that's another story, this is about running. Some people from the gym were going to do a 4 mile running race in Canton, and talked Rob (by now my wife) and I into signing up. This would be my first running race. It was in March, and I think. My time was 34 or 35 minutes. And afterward I could not walk for days...

But now I knew what running races were all about. In the years that followed my consistency got much better. While seeking some professional help for riding/cx related back pain I got my first "hands on" experience with modern physiatry, where I was told my body's musculature was totally imbalanced and that I "had no hamstrings nor back muscles." Starting to address these problems suddenly made me able to run without pain, and I raced more, until 95 when I finally had my left knee cleaned up (torn meniscus). After that I got cautious, and was afraid to run at all. I stopped racing bikes too, as I was going to UMass Lowell at night. I got fat, gaining forty pounds before reversing the trend. By now I was 36. I had the other knee scoped sometime in there too. By 2002 I was laid off from my job, weighed over 200 pounds, and was in the homestretch with school, so I was going nearly full time. The job market sucked. I had a lot of time on my hands. Knowing my severance would run out eventually, and the uncertainty that goes with that kept me from riding my bike as much as I could have. Bike racing is expensive too. So to fill up my idle days I started walking my neighbor's two year old Golden Retriever.

Young dogs have energy, and North Easton is a great town for walking. I was still fat and needed the exercise, and I had all day. After a while we were going out for almost three hours some days. And of course, with young dogs walks turn into runs at some point. Since Murray was not my dog, he wasn't always available, I resorted to walking and running by myself sometimes. All the walking had given me a "base" of sorts, and I wasn't riding all that much either, which probably helped my recovery. All of a sudden, for the first time in my life, I was running consistently (and by that I mean maybe 3x/week) and not getting injured from it. Not big miles, but enough to compete in 5 milers and 10ks. Of course, during this time I found a job, finished school, lost thirty pounds, and started racing bikes again, roughly in that order.

That was around 2003. Since that time I've been pretty steady with the running every winter, still generally letting it go in the summer. Each year I got more serious about it, pushing my start back toward August, keeping it up until June. Compared to the bike, where I sometimes take prizes in the Cat 3s and masters, I had never been the least bit competitive in running races. I was one of those guys who lined up in the back and finished in the middle with the weekend warriors who were just there for the t-shirts and post-race Devil Dogs. Consistent training and more racing made me faster though, and by 2007 or so I was in a quest to break 40 minutes in a 10k, which I succeeded at. By now I also had this blog, so you can follow the rest of the story in ridiculous detail if you want to read all 800+ entries. Suffice to say I'm still a bike racer, but I run a lot more, and got fast enough in 2008 to start finishing on the first page or two of the results at many smaller local races. I've also found new and interesting ways to get injured, with foot and hip issues being the most recent. But this year I'm training cautiously, as my 2009 and 2010 running seasons were both interrupted by physical maladies.

Bringing us (finally!) to Derry and the race report. Last fall I only did a few races, and my 10k times were a minute or two (or three) off my PRs from 2008. The last 10k I ran was the Topanga Turkey Trot X-Terra on Thanksgiving, where I won my age group, but which was so hilly and gnarly that the times are useless as an indicator of fitness. After that no racing until the Millenium Mile on New Year's Day. Normally I would run a five miler that weekend, but the scheduling did not work out. There is no Raynham 15k anymore either, so the Derry 16 would be my first race of any distance in quite a while. And did I mention this is the longest race I've ever done? This would be my third time. 2008 was run in heavy snow. 2009 I was injured. Last year I ran but was slower than 2008 when my hip got seriously cranky at the ten mile mark. I should have dropped out, but instead I soldiered on, died a thousand deaths, and fucked myself up enough that the issue cut my spring running season short, stopping me completely by March. But you read the blog, so you already know about all that right?

Of course, the weather this winter has -- sucked hairy balls. I'm not a big fan of running out between the snowbanks. And in December, the last time there was no snow cover here, I was taking a much needed break from everything. I got my weight up higher than it's been in four years. Not obese, but a good 4-5 kg more than my best racing weight. I'd run heavy all of 2010 as it was though, so really I only added 2-3 kg. I entered the BP16 as motivation to train. And then it snowed. And snowed. WTF? I had about a month to prepare, so I was going to need a long run every weekend. I still refuse to run on consecutive days, as that's a recipe for injury for me. So I'd do shorter days, hopefully hilly, during the week, and bag increasing mileage each weekend. That was the plan. Snow and ice f'd that up, at least for during the week. Blue Hills was out. So was running on the icy streets in the dark at 6 am. This all relegated me to the company gym and the treadmill. I think in the past five years I've run maybe two hours on a treadmill. I don't think it conditions your body for the pounding of running, and it's boring as hell. But I did it this year, and sort of got into it. Two nights a week for the past month anyway. That left the long runs. Somehow, despite the snows, I got them in, with a 10-11-13-14 mile progression over the past month. I'd run at Field's Park, which is semi-plowed and semi-closed to traffic most of the time, and one week resorted to driving to Plymouth to run in Myles Standish State Forest where there was less snow. Neither of these locations has much for hills, certainly nothing like the Derry course. And all these runs were done very slowly. I simply did not have time for more. So while I got in the required durations, my prep for the Prep 16 was far from ideal.

Anybody still reading? Now we're up to the day before the race. I had an appointment at Quad Cycles in Arlington, the bike shop sponsor of my new bike racing team (did I forget to mention that?) on Saturday. That wrapped up in the early afternoon, and being halfway to Derry, I headed up to pre-drive the course before hitting packet pickup at 4. Of course, I did not have a map, don't own a smartphone, don't believe in GPS, and didn't remember that much of it. I got the idea though; the roads were mostly clear. It was forecast to be bitter cold all weekend, but you could see melting in the spots where there were drifts, so I knew it would not be as bad as they said. After getting my number, I gave zencycle a call, meeting him at a nearby pub which happens to be a favorite of mine... Four pints of good brew and a plate of macaroni and cheese later, sabotaging my slim chance of being the least bit competitive was accomplished.

On race day, I took f-ing up to a new level by getting there absolutely last minute. There were a lot of clothing decisions to make and I hadn't packed anything, had to eat, etc. You know me. I slid sideways into the satellite parking lot and jumped on one of the last shuttles at 9:35. Start was at 10. But I had my number and chip already. First person I saw at the school was Iron Mary, I think scoping out the snowbank for a place to pee before chickening out and bitching about the line for the ladies room. Guess she'll never make it as a bike racer. I got dressed and jogged to the start, lining up well back from the front. Only about 700 of the 900 registered showed up I guess. And it was not that cold. I wore wool tights over wicking briefs. On top I had a PI base layer, then a Hasyun wool base layer, a cycling jersey (for the pockets) and a windbreaker. I used a hat plus an earband, and two pair of gloves, one super heavy. That proved to be my only real mistake.

The start was slow as the road is narrow and had a lot of snow pack, but it opened up onto a dry road after a few minutes. I did not feel good. Right away my hands were too warm, something I did not expect. My legs felt tight as hell. So I ran slowly. The first mile was 7:55. Every mile is marked at this race, but with the snowbanks I think they may have had some issues spotting their markers for some of them. Hard to tell because the course is so up-and-down that your splits end up all over the place. The race is unique though as they have timing mats at 5, 10, and 13.1 miles. These were accurately placed I'm sure. It's a very cool feature, and for the $40 entry fee you also get a long sleeve technical base layer, a nylon "backpack" thing, a couple of energy bars, and post-race pizza, chili, etc. Pretty good deal for 16 miles.

Miles 2-4 are mostly downhill, but mile 5 is the steepest climb on the course I think. People all talk about the hills at the end, but this one is harder. I was running sort of by heart rate, trying to maintain 7:30 (slow, I know, but I told you I was not prepared, and I was deathly fearful of falling apart at the end again). I was on track nicely, but with my HR up around 140, pretty high for such a slow pace. Last year my HR was super low all year, but lately it seems to have rebounded a bit. Maybe I really needed that break. Anyhow, on the big climb it was in the 150's, above my normal OBLA number, and higher than I wanted it to go this early. So I backed off. People passed me. Mile 5 took 8:07 and I hit the mat at 37:46, a few seconds/mile behind a two hour pace.

I had to take off my outer gloves too. I had flasks of water in my pockets and I drank some. There is a lot of downhill in the middle of the race, and I got right back on pace, hitting the halfway mark at 59:41. The tenth mile has a pretty good climb in it, and I ran this in a big group, getting there at 1:14:51, still nearly exactly 7:30 pace. Here I started to feel pretty good. The next mile is mostly down, leading into Warner Hill. The location within the race is what makes this so feared, as it's just a long stairstep and really not that steep. Suddenly I was free from the group of ten or so I'd been with for the past four miles, and I moved through traffic all the way to the top. Being within 45 minutes of the finish, I could now disregard HR and run at threshold if my legs would allow it, which they did. According to the markers, I ran the uphill 12th in 7:49. I got to the 13th in 7:17 or something like that, crossing the half-mary mat at 1:38:07, still right on 7:30 pace.

Now we were on the flat to downhill final three miles, where I completely fell apart last year. My legs were fine. So I ran. Mile 14 was around 7 minutes. The mile 15 marker came up in 6:08, so that one had to be in the wrong spot. In contrast to last year, when it felt like I was running backward, nobody had passed me in the final six miles this time. I got to the finish and ended up sprinting to come in under 1:58, officially at 1:57:57, 7:23 pace. I'd run the last three miles averaging 6:52. I was all proud of myself until I realized this was still almost four minutes slower than last year's debacle, and over six slower than my course best (in the friggin' snow) from 2008. But it still felt good to finish strong, and the detailed results with splits show me as one of the few who got faster and moved up.

Obviously, I went out too conservatively, but since I never do this, and was taking this as training, it was the right thing to do. I was not prepared to "race" 16 miles, and I knew it. Other than some expected soreness, I seem to have weathered this one pretty easily, and expect to bounce back. It's good to have this out of the way. I need to decide on goals for the rest of the spring, but I can do whatever I want now. Next up is the Paddy Kelly 5 miler in Brockton on February 13. That will provide a good benchmark for tempo (if the snow stays away long enough for us to actually train). After that I'll probably do the Foxboro 10 on Feb 20, but I'm considering finding a half to try again instead. And of course at some point I need to start riding my bike. We'll see. Reading this must have felt like running 16 miles to you. Thanks for reading.

2010-2011

2011-01-20T07:25:00.000-05:00

Since my writing has been uninspired lately, I've resisted trying to post unless I had a photo or two to share. Almost five years ago I started this thing as a place to write, and I used to put a fair amount of effort into creating daily essays with decent form, structure, and themes. Over time I've allowed that to slip, more often than not just shooting from the hip with a hurried piece, or falling back into a diaryesque note, with or without photographic support. Through it all readership has remained steady (near as I bother to estimate), but I'm not sure if held up recently. It's no secret that daily blogs have lost participants due to the popularity of Facebook (a crowded road I've chosen not to ride on) and Twitter. Maybe the former is an easier way for people to share hastily posted photos and daily musings, but for more journalistic content I hope blogs don't die. The real power of blogs is EVERYONE has the opportunity to be their own publisher, to share their voice with others. This is a really big deal. For sure the sheer volume of stuff out their diminishes the impact of each voice (compared to when each major city had one or two news outlets, and cycling had one monthly gazette), but if you've really got something to say, people will find you and take interest. Publishing for the masses.

Microblogging (since I'm not a Facebooker, I'm talking about Twitter here) has a different sort of potential to spread timely information quickly. Here in the New England cycling world though, the circle I'm in uses it more like a big unruly group ride, sort of an unmoderated chatroom. Not particularly useful, but fun most of the time, and very difficult to ignore once you get sucked in. The fact that about half my blogroll participates doesn't help. So while it fills the void left by the lack of blogging somewhat, as Dougie laments in a recent post, you don't find any "stories" there.

I wish I had a good story for you today, but unfortunately this one is just a diary entry. Having never done any recap of the 2010 season, beginning there makes sense. This was a good year for me competitively. I won a weekend USCF race for the first time in 14 years with a flukey last lap solo against a small but stacked 45+ masters field at Ninigret in April. The rest of the year was decent too, with podiums at the WMSR TT and the 35+ Concord Criterium, which was probably my strongest day on the bike in this millenium. I had lots of fun training rides, including of course D2R2.

Running went OK too, after a tough start with a mysterious hip ailment cutting my winter campaign short back at the Boston Prep 16 in January. After that I ran decent at Paddy Kelly in Brockton, but the pain just wouldn't go away, and my times were all slower than 2008 when I was at my best. So I gave up on running and just rode, which is probably one reason why I had a good year on the bike. In May, a chance to work with Patty from CPSC physical therapy while we both helped out at Goodale's super sale let to me sorting out the cause of my hip problem in just ten minutes. Not completely, but she helped me understand my body's asymmetry and other dysfunction, and what I could do about it, better than anyone ever had before. This put me on a path to a more productive structural maintenance program, which not only got me back running, but has helped my overall fitness as well. This winter I've been able to run a few races without issue, and though I'm not as fast as I was two years ago, at least everything has been going predictably.

The other weird thing that happened was I ended up racing almost as many days of cyclocross as on the road this year. I think it ended up being 25 and 20 respectively, or something like that. Plus 8 running races for a total of 53 competitions. I don't remember whether in total that is more or less than last year. My training hours are down, exactly 400 on the bike and just 63 running. I don't track gym time, but there was more of it for sure, most of it being stretching, bodyweight exercise, and stuff like that rather than traditional gym-ratting. I did not DNF any race all year until the 1/2/3 at Ice Weasels, which was my second race of the day, so that one shouldn't count. And I only dropped out because I was having trouble getting beer feeds. Not to mention doing back to backs helped me realize how poorly my cx bike rides for me. In the singlespeed race I road my P.O.S. Scattante and even that handled better. Combined with coming off of two weekends racing in SoCal on the Fisher I keep out there helped hammer home how the geometry and fit of my ancient Hot Tubes bike simply does not work on tight courses. On faster stuff like Noho it's ok. So I really need to get a new cx bike, and have had one on order since... September. That saga continues. Maybe next year. But for now I have imposed a moratorium on bike-related spending. There's simply too much crap in here now, and I've got to learn to consume less.

Leading all to this month. Last winter I never really took a break from the bike. I think maybe five days at one point. Made for a good season, but by August my enthusiasm waned significantly. Training during CX season proved to be a real struggle. When December finally arrived and the CX season ended, I rode once or twice just to enjoy the road bikes, then hung them up on December 21, not touching them again until yesterday. Thirty-one days has to be a record for me, at least when there was no surgery involved. The weather totally sucking made the whole thing pretty easy. I was ready to ride again a week or so ago, but not in this shit. However, I'm not sure if it's just because the Twitter crowd is younger and more dedicated or what, but I can't recall ever hearing about so much hard-core training going on in the first half of January. It's nuts. People doing five hours, hard intervals, etc. Is there a secret stage race in February that I don't know about? Makes it easier to understand why no promoter can fill a field in the summertime. Does it really take fifteen weeks to get ready for Battenkill when you're coming off a twenty race CX season? Good for them I guess, though I harbor doubts about whether doing group rides between the snowbanks is a smart idea, never mind that it doesn't generate much good will for us. Yeah I know, you have a right to the road, blah, blah, blah. I'll stay hopeful that driving on the clogged arteries with snowbanks taking two feet off of each shoulder will make drivers realize there's plenty of room to share with a bike or two in the summertime. Personally I'll be confined to the trainer for a bit, or at least be down the Cape or something.

Not that I've been totally idle during my break though. I've been running 3x/week, although even some of that has been indoors on a treadmill, something I normally avoid. On New Year's day I got a chance to race at the Millenium Mile again, even managing to squeak in under five minutes, equaling last time's 4:58. And I'm signed up for the Boston Prep 16 again on Sunday... Not sure about this one. Getting in long runs has been a real struggle, but the past three weekends I've pulled it off. Field's Park in Brockton is sort of plowed, but not open to cars some of the time, and has a lane dedicated to runners anyway, so I've gone over there. Last weekend was 15 miles on packed snow, wearing YakTraks. Monday I followed that up with the 3.5 hour snowshoe in the Blue Hills. But I've hardly run any hills, and my overall mileage has been pretty light, with just short sessions on the hamster belt during the week. In total it significantly diminishes the appeal of heading into the slop on Sunday when the forecast high temp is 12 degrees F. Seriously, I know we all hear the HTFU stuff (mostly from people who have never ridden past five hours in their lives, not exactly Jens's if you know what I mean), but this might be a good day to exercise reasonable judgment instead and just bag out. We'll see. Stay tuned. Watch this space. And thanks for reading. This took too long to write, and would take way too long to proofread, so in the unlikely event that you carefully read the entire thing, feel free to suggest edits in the comments. I'll fix them but not publish so you don't look like a nit picker. Speaking of which, I heard there is a lice outbreak in the toney schools of the metrowest region. Good luck with that... Or play it safe and go with the Stuey haircut. Thanks again.

Solo goes to Emerald City

2011-01-17T20:50:00.003-05:00

I'm working on a post, honest. But for now, here is your hero enjoying a 360 degree panoramic view of the fair shitty o' Borston and its surroundings, from the summit of Buck Hill. Snow is still ass deep in there. Lots of fallen limbs and trees. Did some bushwhacking and trail blazing. Thanks for reading.

Two more

2011-01-05T07:07:00.004-05:00

Here's one of Robin riding at Wompatuck on the famous Marukin, in its second life, after road bike, before TT bike. It had not yet had the Moots mounts installed and was still sportin' sidepulls. This dropoff was so steep that the approach was blind, and some people were afraid to ride down it.

This one is for Gewilli and his cx-in-the-snow fantasies. This has been published before, Alicia G at the old Plymouth CX Stage race one year. Thanks for reading.

Old Pic for the New Year

2011-01-02T14:38:00.004-05:00

I am working on some old CX photos that I have not published before. As you can see, I've always had style. Thanks for reading. Here they are.

DNF

2010-12-24T12:02:00.004-05:00

Once again I DNF'd my final race of the year. At Ice Weasels I finished the singlespeed race but then dropped out of the 1/2/3 race after four laps or so. Getting beer feeds was difficult. I guess I need more friends... I did take a funnel full from Reuter's friend but when I did she looked at me like she was going to call the cops or something. It was that bad. And hardly any pics of the SS race showed up on the web, least not that I found. Anyway I'm DNFing this entry too, but I'll post it as proof that I'm still alive. The DNF Green Monster never really took off like I wanted it to either. No one even gave me shit about dropping out of Ice Weasels and then not posting it. And I did not enter Battenkill. I don't know why they open up reg on December 21 every year, but it makes no sense to me. Hype I guess, and it sure works. I could not even remember how many times I've raced it. Blog archives to the rescue. I did 2006, 2008, and 2009. In 2010 I just did the pre-ride, and that might be my plan for 2011 too. Thanks for keeping the faith.

Half-Assed Ice Weasels Promo

2010-12-09T19:17:00.006-05:00

The Ice Weasels Cometh will feature singlespeeds, short shorts, bulging quads, weasels in kilts, free beer, hurdles over flaming servers, and awesome custom schwag. Colin Reuter action figure not included, cupcakes sold separately.

This was supposed to be an elaborate diorama featuring a Colin Reuter action figure, Honda Fit model, broken SRAM shifters, helmet cameras, flaming servers, Carharts, Crossresults.com skinsuits, medically-implanted at the wrist smartphone, COFFEE, Exit17 sidekick, and hot PRO girlfriend. Whoops. The project proved small for my imagination, but too big for my ambition. And you just try to find a suitable action figure with male-pattern baldness and a slight build. The red ski suit was easy, but the closest I could get was a shaved-headed GI JOE built like Mr T. And even that was thirty bucks.

But anyways, this Saturday is the third edition of the Ice Weasels Cometh at White Barn Farm in scenic Wrentham MA. I missed last year because I was in friggin' Bend, but I'll be back in twenty ten in all my red shorted 56 toothed chainringed glory. This Saturday. Route 1A just south of the center. Thanks for reading.

Wrap Up

2010-12-01T14:58:00.003-05:00

Solo on a dualie. Bars were too wide and stem too short, but on the fast stuff it's like a motorcycle.

Not so great on the climbs if you ask me. Overlook had been recently graded anyway. Never rode an MTB faster than the way down.

Ocean on one side, canyon on the other. This place rocks.

Eleven days, two cross races, two cross workouts, one XTERRA trail race, a twelve mile trail run, a ten mile back-country hike, three road rides taking in four canyons and around 10,000 feet of climbing, a mountain bike ride, and two massages. I guess I had a good trip. It was a little chilly though, barely got above 65 most days. Super clear this week though. Thanks for reading.

Glendale Cyclocross

2010-11-30T11:45:00.003-05:00

The Glendale course sits in an upscale urban park.

Rockin' Rob Kramer absolutely killed it off the start in the 35+ race, riding in front group of four for two laps.

Solo and Kramer posing for animal crackers post-race.

Robin rides the sand pit.

Solo eating a pumpkin cupcake. WTF is the world coming to?

Glendale, the Gene Galindo Turkey CX. For me this was a repeat, but they adjusted the course a bit, making it totally awesome, fast and flowy, with alternating hammer and recovery sections. No call up for me. This was the SoCal state championships too, so even though everyone in the 45+, 50+, and 55+ started together, we were scored separately.

Being in the last row, I still picked the wrong side for the start. I'd preridden all of the course except for the start/finish stretch, as with chip timing pre-riders are not allowed to pass through there. I got pinched onto some roots that I did not know were there and lost ground. In the chip results, I'm one of the few whose fastest lap was not the first, instead doing my quickest on lap two. I moved up steadily, but by the time I cleared all the traffic the leaders were gone. In the end I got 4th/11 in the 50-54, 8th/31 overall. The winner was former Honda factory motocross pro Johnny O'Mara. Stuck around to watch the two Rob's, feasting on a catered Mexican buffet provided by the race organizers. Life is good again. Thanks for reading.

Topanga Turkey Trot 10k

2010-11-27T11:00:00.002-05:00

Being away from home means missing the traditional local running races the morning of the Thanksgiving holiday. But they must still have these things out here right? I'd been meaning to try one of the X-Terra Trail Series races for a few years now, and sure enough on Thursday morning the Topanga Turkey Trot was fairly close by. The event offered 5k, 10k, and 15k options, all on trails in Topanga State Park. The 10k course profile showed around 1400 feet of climbing, so I chose that, and signed Robin up for the 5k. The 15k started earliest and I did not expect it to have a big turnout but I was wrong. It turned out to be the largest with around 300 runners. There were around 225 in the 10k and 160 in the 5k. I guess the series is a pretty big deal for some people, thus most of the serious trail runners did the 15k.

Topanga canyon is the home of the legendary Geo Snelling, college roomate of Gewilli, but there were no sightings. We got there pretty early, yet the parking was already full and we were directed to an overflow lot at Topanga High School, which was up a steep hill. A long line was already waiting for the shuttle, so we decided to walk. One of the kids manning the lot advised us against this, as he said it was "freezing cold." I think it was around 40 in the shade and 50 in the sun... Well it turns out that the race site was 1.5 miles from the boulevard, up a 10% grade. So the walk was a decent warmup. We got our numbers just as the 15k started. For a $45 entry fee, the event organization was not exactly top notch, but the situation was manageable. Rob went off for the 5k, and twenty minutes later I lined up for the 10k.

The first 1.25 miles of each race went straight up fireroad, climbing at least 600 feet onto the ridge. The views were spectacular. The Santa Ana winds have been blowing all week, which clears the air. All the Channel Islands were visible. But of course there was no time for sightseeing. The first mile took me 9:07, and I was pretty close to the front of the pack. A short downhill led to some rocky uphill singletrack. By now we were pretty spread out. The middle was all fire road again, some up and some down. Then we ended up on a steep descent, merged with the 15k runners again. Running as fast as I could, I still got dropped. I'm much better going uphill.

Eventually I passed a mile four marker. The distances at this event were highly suspect. The 15k may have been true distance, but the word was the 10k was closer to 10.5, and the 5k was actually a full 6k. At any rate, no records were broken. I was expecting the fire road to head right back to the park, so I was quite surprised when we turned on to extremely narrow and steep single track with a mile or two to go. The trail was barely wide enough to pass, all switchbacks, with wooden water bars cut into a lot of it. Some of them were a two foot drop. Running full speed down this, suffice to say your legs took a pounding. Some dude caught me from behind, but at ever place the trail crossed the ravine, there would be a short uphill at the switchback and I'd sprint away. Then he'd catch back up on the downhill. This pattern went on for about a mile. Nearer to the end, the trail opened up a bit and got rocky again. At one point I stumbled and barely caught my self, windmilling forward with my face about a foot from the ground (or so it seemed). We were catching some 5k backmarkers too, but most let us by without incident. At the end of the trail there was a hundred meters or so of uphill and I opened a gap. Good thing, as I was not expecting a long downhill sprint on a paved park road back to the chute, but I held on.

My finish time was 52:51, 8:32 pace if you believe the distance. At the start I'd spoken to the eventual winner who'd told me his 10k PR was 31:30, and he ran 46 something. So at 14 minutes off my recent 10k times, I guess I did OK. I was sixth overall, and first in the 50-54 age group (they do not use your actual race day age here, I guess because the series ends next year) but it did not matter to me because the medal is not engraved and I'd have been first in the 45-49 anyway. Rob won her age group in the 5k too. The weather was nice and they at least had muffins and scrambled eggs for everyone, along with finisher medals and decent T-shirts.

The shuttle ride back to the parking was the funniest part of the whole day. The bus was built with maybe 24 seats, and at least sixty people crammed on this thing despite the driver pleading "no mas" after about thirty had boarded. And we're driving straight down the twisting grade. I envisioned it ending something like this. We made it though, and then ground up the other side of the canyon to the school. Let's just say things did not smell too good around that bus when we unboarded. Thanks for reading.

Tuna Canyon

2010-11-26T18:03:00.003-05:00

Finally rode this today with Rob K. In the daytime of course. Road was closed due to landslide but we got through. Wish I had a helmet cam. Descends around 2000 feet in just a few miles. One lane, one-way. What a blast. Thanks for reading.

Convert Cross

2010-11-23T18:11:00.007-05:00

You can see me hiding in the back, one of the few with no arm warmers. Seriously guys, it was at least 60 degrees...

Caution tape is for pussies. Barbed wire = no cutting the course.

SoCal CX races still have serious competitors who use mountain bikes. The stairs were insurance against anyone attempting to ride this.

If my bars look too high on this bike it's because they are.

Lake Casitas was the venue for rowing at LA84

The 45+ share the course with single speed women in CA.

With over twenty national titles already at 18 years old, Coryn Rivera is just a plain old badass bike racer.

The rideup was steep, making it a good spot to mash big gears and make up time, at least for me.

This weekend I traded a race in perhaps the least scenic venue in the country for the natural splendor of Lake Casitas in Ojai, CA. The Ventura Convert Cross would open my 2010 west coast CX tour. After arriving here late Friday night, we headed up on Saturday to assist with course setup, as Rob's Judgement Velo/Trek Bikes of Ventura club co-hosts the event with the Successful Living team. Well the normally arid Ventura county got a few days of drenching rain, making some parts of the course a muddy mess. Just doing a few test laps pulled so much muck onto my frame that at one point the wheels simply locked up. I'm serious. "Peanut butter" does not adequately describe the consistency of mud. It was more like dog shit, without the smell. Not what I'd planned on. Saturday night I cleaned up the bikes and went to town with wax and other homebrewed mud repellents for the frames and our shoes. And during the night it rained more, hard.

Sunday though, on the short drive up to Ojai the sun shown brightly. There was some snow on the peaks in the distance, but only at elevations over 5000 feet or so, and even that would disappear as the day went on. The wind was up, and things actually dried out rather quickly. We were again helping with setup and all though, so I never did get a chance to pre-ride and see how much it had changed. The 45+ was the second event of the day, at 10:30 am. There were 25 guys registered. I lined up second row, behind those who'd earned callups in the SoCal series. We had chip timing for this event, which is kind of cool, as your fastest lap time of the day gets published, neat for comparing fields. But with the course drying out, turning the sticky, velcro like mud of the morning into fast hardpack by afternoon, well, things just got faster. At least that is my story.

I did not get such a great start, getting edged off my line by a mountain biker no less. Then at the first turn onto the grass, which was wet, heavy, and uphill, I failed to execute my planned shift into the small ring. I'm a Shimano guy, but my west-coast bike is SRAM, and I did not have it down. This cost me a few spots. I think I was more than halfway back. After a minute or two of damage control, we exited the twisty grass onto the second of two fairly long sections of flat pavement, where I opened up the four-barrel and moved ahead. But then we 180'd onto some grass where, having not pre-ridden, I plowed myself into the deepest, wettest mud, well over the tops of the rims. Not exactly graceful, and surely burning more fuel than I'd have liked, I plodded along. At the muddy plunge into the the 180 and the stairs, where my wheels had stopped turning the day prior, I pre-dismounted and ran in order to protect the bike. It was pretty fast, but the mud had been dried and tamped to the point where riding the downhill and 180 was clearly more economical, if not a time saver as well, so I did that for the remaining laps.

The second lap went better. At this point I was still fairly close to the top five, but some guy rallied by me and rode away. The third lap was tough for me, but by then I'd figured out some good lines and had an excellent rhythm on the flowy course. Which was a good thing, as by now it was time trial time. The only company I had was lap traffic, both 55+ riders and single speeders, who just ride weird. I thought some of them were just warming up, as they ride slowly to rest for the difficult sections, where the have to ride super hard and fast in order to keep the gear rolling. Whatever. I'm passing, so if I'm in your way a second later, too bad. My grandparents did not brave the U-Boats and the icy Atlantic so that I could ride around in one gear at 40 rpm. They wanted a better life for me, with STI and a 27 cog out back. Thanks Grammy!

At the finish it turns out I was 8th, 1:37 down on winner Edwin Rambuski. So about a third of the way down in the field, same as at home. I'd been hoping for better on this course as it was pure power all the time, very heavy, perfect for me really. Without the first lap mistakes, and maybe a better warmup it could have happened. Did a cooldown ride out and back on Casitas Pass, then had lots of fun the rest of the day, many, many dogs at this race, but no beer. We stayed until the bitter end and did course teardown. Saw a Cyclocrossracing.com kit, sure enough it was Rob Kramer (he and Rosalie had four dogs with them) and we are set to do a ride down the coast on Friday. Maybe I'll have more pictures for another post. Thanks for reading.

Putney Conclusion

2010-11-23T14:13:00.003-05:00

Hurdling the log run ahead of JimmyE (Svelte) and Mr Hamel (Joe's Garage). Yes I saw the thin rideable line on the right but at this point in the day the sideboard had not been pushed back so far and the right pedal hit it. Plus there was a stake lurking in there. So we ran.

Around the food table. Good place to recover. No close encounters with Benji or any other small, unattended humans this year.

Slaying the famous Putney runup with the proper around-the-head-tube shouldering technique. Photos and contact lenses courtesy of EyeFNBob

Where did we leave off? Don't remember, but I almost missed the start, ending up in the back of the field. Tried to take the wide line up the hill, but others could not hole the inside and drifted way out. This still got me into the right onto the grass on the inside, and that worked out for a few spots. But I was back there, and one dude proved difficult to get around. A gap opened. Then he bailed on the pump track, and I squeaked by. All the way around the cornfield to close the gap. Passed a bunch of guys in a group. That may have been on the second lap. Turns out they were 35+ backmarkers, and I was not as far up as I thought.

Spent the race in a group with Timmy, Jimmy English, and Ed Hamel. May have been other guests coming and going. I'd get away but then get reeled in when I tried to recover. Then Timmy went with me second wheel. So I went slow and he rode away. I knew this was a gamble as there were other guys up the rode and if we did a slow lap we'd really have our work cut out for ourselves to catch them. But I was suffering and the lap cards read 5 to go so I sat up and then sat on. Eventually Jimmy brought Timmy back, but never once did I take a pull on the long dirt road or in the cornfield.

With two to go (I think) somehow I got a small gap after the cornfield barriers, so I really drilled it. This got me to the road with nobody on my wheel, and I lit it up. By the top of the runup I'd rid myself of the group and it was time trial time. In the cornfield I reeled in a guy from the 45+ (there were lapped 55+ out there too, so it was confusing). Exiting the cornfield, up ahead I saw the black Hup United skinsuit of ...Baker. He is my number one Crossresults victim. He is not supposed to beat me. In fact, I not-so-secretly consider him to be my Grim Reaper. Chip is a good cross racer but he does not race road and could stand to lose a few kilos (that's free Nega-Coaching there dude). This was going to hurt. I'd been in solo attack mode for over five minutes, and now I'm sprinting up the dirt road. At the turn before the runup, I had his wheel, but was already throwing up in my mouth a bit from the effort. I run well though and had to give it a try. There are two lines up the runup. The right line was steeper and harder, but shorter and generally faster. The left line was longer but easier, and I could make it work for me. Flying up with my head down, BOOM! Little did I know my man Garabed from the 55+ was trudging up with the flashers on. End of progress. Chip remounted first, returning the favor of my victimizing him all season long. Good job. I slumped across in 11th, with tire tracks all over both arms and legs from race-long full-contact running up the cliff.

For an old times sake cooldown I bundled up and rode over to West Hill and up the old finishing hill from the road race. As I alluded to earlier, the Tour of the Valleys was a special 100k, single loop Spring classic road race back in the day. Today's riders are spoiled by nearly instant results and online reporting down to last place the very next day. Well racing in the dark ages was not like that. Very few races had finish cameras. Even those that did only picked and posted the top six or ten riders. If you were fortunate enough to place, you might see your name in fine print in the back of VeloNews a month later, gaining some notoriety. Putney was always different though, and with the slo-mo hilltop finish they'd pick and place each and every rider, with finish times. A few weeks later we'd get typewritten full results in the mail. Maybe I'll scan one and put it up soon.

The usual Putney hijinks of burritos, cider donuts, beer, and wool clothing expenditures in the shop ensued. The weather was awesome. We came, we raced, we saw, we heckled. Sorry this took so long. Thanks for reading

Putney and Old School blah blah blah

2010-11-19T17:15:00.005-05:00

Better late than never. After getting all opened up at the 5k on Saturday, I even got out for a nice road ride that afternoon, surprisingly finding myself with time trial legs. Shut it down at 90 minutes rather than letting myself get carried away in the nice weather. Sunday I made the pilgrimage to Putney, taking the 128/2 route. On 91 north I had a flashback to my first trip to the Tour of the Valleys, which was in May of 1987 I think. It was a foggy morning, and as far as the eye could see (which wasn't very far), every car had a roof rack full of bikes. That was probably my first time witnessing a convergence of hundreds of bike racers on a location, the same location I was headed to today, the West Hill Shop off exit 4. The TotV, or simply Putney, was perhaps the original New Engand classic and arguably the best road race of its time. Nobody skipped it. One big loop. And no longer with us of course. I must have blogged about it before. More on this later.

The cx race has been around for a while too, long enough for G-Ride and Rooter and everyone else to talk about it as being "old school New England cross." For the record, the oldest courses were Plymouth North High, Wompatuck, Mansfield Hollow, Putney, Mt A, the Plymouth intermediate school, Pittsfield, and a couple of other central CT locations whose names escape me. The original "Cycle Smart" was at horse field next to some UMass dorms, but that did not come along until 89 or so. They are calling Putney 20th annual so I guess maybe it was not as old as Wompatuck and Plymouth. And though it started out at the shop on basically the same course we use now, for a time it re-located up to the top of West Hill Road itself, across from the Putney school. I think they may have done that because the original course was considered to "old school" at the time...

So exactly what makes an "old school New England" cross course? Jerry seems to think they were not "roadie" like he found Putney. That one makes me laugh. Who do you think cyclocross was started by anyway? Or mountain biking for that matter. In those days, if you raced bikes, no matter what kind, you raced road. Nobody had got a mountain bike as their first bike. So there. But it's not like the newer Verge series grass autobahns aren't better race courses. Ironically, one of the Putney elements G-Ride complained about, the "flow killer" set of barriers back in the cornfield, are one of the attributes the old course all had: a dismount every minute or two. Combine that with a few sections narrow enough to bottleneck any field of over thirty riders, some crude non-lumber hurdles, and throw it a runup steep enough that you need to use your hands to scale it and you have all the elements of a back-in-the-day New England cross course. I used to get so aggravated that course designers (including the still famous one) used to be like "we need a barrier here" if any section making up more that 20% of the course length could be ridden without dismounting. I called it the "sundial method." You see, mountain bike clipless pedals had not yet been invented, and dismounting/remounting was a very important and difficult to learn skill, giving huge reason for the old guard who generally promoted races (designing or consulting for course builders) to throw in lots of dismounting.

I got to the race early, riding a few test laps with the Cronoman before the first race started. Pretty much the same layout as always, although the "slippery slope" (lot of quotes today eh?) ain't nearly what it used to be. Not sure if they've cut it down or if it's just naturally been flattened by soil washing it's way down, but it's pretty tame these days. There was a time when it was a vertical plunge into a giant mudhole. At least that's how I remembered it. The cornfield though, that has not changed at all, nor the road or the big-assed runup. We skipped that in warmup. I have a theory that hitting the courses for a hard pre-rde is a BAD idea for an old dude like me. I need some kind and gentle spinning before that kind of work.

I had a PRO parking spot near the portos. Man it stunk. You guys need to change up your diets a little. Then Eyebob came by with some contact lenses for me to try. Buck was impressed that I retained an eye doctor just for installing race day vision. This was my first time ever wearing contacts. I'd even bought some new landscaper protective glasses at the Depot the night before, just for the occasion (saw my man Pimpin' Fred for the first time in 33 years too, but that's another story). With eyesight restored, I got on the trainer to finish my warmup, with parked next car Dick Ring giving me intel on how the earlier races were affecting the course. I got into my warmup a bit too much though, forgetting that there were not callups at this race, and that we'd be using the "old school" method of hanging out near the start for an eternity before the race if we wanted to be near the front.

Hey you know what? My flight is almost boarding. I will finish this later. Thanks for reading.

FS

2010-11-18T08:21:00.004-05:00

I didn't get a table for the bike swap tonight, and can't be there on time anyway, but if you're interested in any of this stuff, or need anything else in particular, email me at jellysidedown at the gmail and I can arrange to be there later tonight. Thanks for shopping.

56 cm Scattante CX frame and fork with nice Shimano BR550 brakes, seatpost, Reynolds stem and bars $100
Tubular track wheelset with tufo tires. Campy Victory rims, Campy track rear hub with 126 axle. Have 120 axle. Includes 2 cogs $125
Assorted fixed cogs new and otherwise.
Old 57 cm Rossin setup as a single speed, ready for Ice Weasels $100
LG Yo Eddy frameset, broken big one inch fork but can be repaired (I think), has replacement fork in there, canti posts but has guides for hydraulic lines (not cables) make offer
MTB rim brake wheelset, XTR hubs, Mavic 517 rims, brand new Fire XC Pro tires ($80 value) $140.
42 cm Cinelli model 63 crit bars and 12 cm Cinelli track stem $80
9speed Ultegra STI levers, front is triple $100
9 speed Ultegra triple cranks and BB, both 170 and 175 $60 each.
Some other Ultegra 9 speed stuff brand new in box.
Some 8 speed cassettes NIB and near new.
Lots of other stuff

Get the AED

2010-11-17T15:03:00.004-05:00

It's Thursday already, not enough time for proper reporting. In a nutshell, Saturday the Walpole Cami 5k, first 5k I've run in over two years. In 2008 I ran four of them, the slowest being an 18:55 and the fastest an 18:10 PR. With my 10k times this fall being 39+, I was worried about breaking 19. Course was certified but a really dumb layout, with a tight loop off the start that actually crosses itself? WTF? And then they sent the walkers off first! Got there late, no warmup, and all this may have had me go out nice and easy for a change. Not sure as I did not see a mile one marker. Mile two came up in around 12:11, just on track for a high 18. In the last mile there was some downhill and I finished up in 18:41, very satisfied. Sunday was the world famous Putney CX. Above we have the Cronoman and a little post race drama, captured courtesy of EyeBob. Will try to bang out a report later. Thanks for breathing.

Noho Report

2010-11-09T20:55:00.007-05:00

From a racing standpoint, this past weekend's two races at Look Park in Northampton were more of the same for me. Nice weather, strong fields, finishes in or near the 20s. With the accuracy of the race predictor you gotta wonder why we even run the race. For Saturday it had me around 30th out of 82 pre-reg'd riders in the 45+. The ever important (if you listen to the pundits) starting grid would be arranged by Verge points, and I was assigned bib #32, narrowly making it into the fourth row of eight riders. Everyone behind us was lined up by order of registration.

The start chute was on grass. I wanted the edge, but being the last one called for this row, I ended up on the right. This was not so good but my start was nonetheless OK. Maybe my starts have gotten better, or maybe having everyone lined up in rough order of how well they've been doing just makes things more, well, orderly. After the first chicane we dumped on to the pavement and I tried to make my way left. I'd scouted a wide line through the muck at the end of the road. The runup was a cluster as always, but I think I managed well enough.

[Insert long story about all the silly details of the middle of the race here]

OK, there were a few things of note that I remember. It took until 3/4 of the way through the first lap for Soups to pass me. Not sure what was up with that. I was up in a group with Helicopter Matt Domnarski (Horst-Benidorm), who has been beating me this year, and Evil McKneivel (JRA) was not far ahead either, and these facts led me to believe I might be having a good race. The ever-present Derek Griggs (KHS) was right there too, along with a Noreast rider who turned out to be Charles Bourdages. He was worse of a bull-in-a-china-shop than me on the tight sections, but could throw out mad power on the straights. At one point Brian came out of the pit right into our battle, but I don't remember if I ever passed him. He soon rode away. Matt was leading our group most of the time. Once early on he was spinning a tiny gear the size of a teacup like the Marinara Boy Basso, making me think his shifter was broken or something, so I tried to pass. He fought back to the death, which I found weird, as we were headed for the pavement into the wind. Fine with me. There was no pressure from behind, and I did not think we'd be catching the guys up ahead (translation: I was close enough to my limit to be content sitting on).

Oddly enough, on the tight sections, the hurdles, and the runup I was having no issues staying in contact. I was running the sandpits, as riding it was not a high percentage play. So, cutting to the last lap, into the big runup those guys seemed to slow prematurely. I don't know why. I slipped by at the last second, and bolted up the left side of the hill. On top I rode as hard as I dared. Not looking back, as far as I know Derek came with me but the others fell back. In the last few turns Griggs passed me, and I followed around the last baseball diamond roundabout. Coming back to the pavement, a last minute check revealed I was still in the little ring. Through the last chicane I did a lot of shifter paddling, getting up to the 46 and over to the middle of the cassette. I think Derek may have been in his small ring all the way to the pavement, because when we got there he hesitated a second before standing up. I had already started my jump and went by him on the right to finish 19th, just 2:50 down on the winner.

At first I was very excited by this result, having broke the "three minute barrier" as well as beating the race predictor by more than ten places. However, I later learned that 15 of of 82 registrants had no-showed! So there were only 67 starters. Three good guys had crashed in front of us on the first lap too. With one out of six not starting, that would put my place on the race predictor closer to 24th. Subtract the crash victims and that makes par around 21st. And, time gaps at Noho are always small for some reason. More on that later. So not really a breakthrough, but a solid race.

Solid enough for me to be satisfied the pressure was off, and sit around the camper pounding beers with Timmy, Garabed, and a string of socialites who came by all afternoon. We stayed till the end, watching all the races, both heckling and encouraging. Timmy made chicken thighs with mushroom sauce that he served over spaghetti squash. This was living. Then we stayed over in nearby Greenfield as guests of man-about-town Jay McDonald (NCC) and his girlfriend Rachel, taking in a few more beverages at the People's Pint. Seems everyone has a story about losing race focus Saturday evening, and we were no different. Nothing too major though. I had a sweet potato and mushroom burrito and two pints of Farmer Brown Ale.

[Insert Sunday race story here, nearly the same as Saturday]

Maybe not exactly the same. The course was similar, but different. What sets the Noho layouts apart are that the turns down on the grass are all fast. There is none of the stop and go tight shit, even up top. The low tier is the fun part though, with almost everything being either a constant or increasing radius turn, which means non-awkward and high exit speeds. I had more trouble up top than on Saturday though, which required me to chase back on more in the fast parts. Once again it was me and Derek. Matt was further ahead. Andy Durham (CCB) let a huge gap open on the first lap, and so I made a slightly sketchy pass, leading him to return the favor and then some with a full-contact move in the fast gravel turn. Then he slowed down. I don't get it, as if he'd just let me by we'd have closed the gap to the rapidly disappearing train up ahead. By the time I got around him for good Matt and company had ten seconds. Sunday's legs weren't what Saturday's were, and I never really got on comfortably. Eventually Derek came around me and filled in the gap, but then he dropped his chain at the top of the runup (yes we were running it at this point in the day, when it was still quite loose, though Matt rode it successfully almost every time). In the end I crossed behind Matt in 24th, just 2:14 down on the leaders this time.

On Saturday, everyone who finished ahead of me had a bib number lower than mine, meaning they started ahead or beside me. On Sunday more of the same, except for Jimmy English (Svelte) who was wearing #76 meaning he started DFL. That is some ride. As for the small time gaps, I think it's just a fast course with no real bottlenecks, and the leaders tend to play cat and mouse due to the drafting nature of the layouts. So again a solid ride, but more or less a par performance. We hit the beer tent after for FREE and EXCELLENT High and Mighty Stout, capping the weekend off nicely. No pictures, what can I say, we relaxed and had fun. Thanks for reading.

Nega-Coach and the Senator Elect

2010-11-03T12:46:00.003-04:00

Yes it's true, before moving into politics, Kelly Ayotte was a pretty decent bike racer. Here the newly-elected US Senator from New Hampshire gets some last minute racing advice from a then portly Nega-Coach at the Fitchburg Circuit Race. Somewhere around here I have a picture of her racing cross in a Team Bonk kit at Wompatuck. Nega-Coaching can help you succeed at more than just bike racing! Congratulations to Kelly, even if this is kind of like making it to the majors but then playing for the Yankees...

Canton Fall Classic 10k

2010-11-01T07:36:00.003-04:00

Wait, I thought Canton was a cross race? Yes, Saturday, which was new, as in the past the bike race often conflicted with the Canton Fall Classic running race, which goes right by the cyclocross venue. In fact, in 2006, I was even dumb enough to race both of them on the same day. So enjoyable was that little adventure that the next year I attempted to repeat it but was thwarted by mysterious forces beyond my control. Probably for the best. In 2008 I think I skipped the CX race, and beginning last year it started cx Saturday, running race Sunday, solving my problem.

The Canton 10k is a big deal to me because I've probably done it more times than any other running race. The first time was 1993, my first 10k ever and the furthest I'd ever run in my life at that point. The course is relatively hilly, mostly down for two miles or so, then one big wall before more downhill to the low point in the third mile. 3.5 - 5 are mostly up, gaining quite a bit, culminating in a wall on Dedham Street right at the five mark. The last mile is false flat uphill, but it seems pretty easy and fast compared to the prior sector. In 93 my time was 48 something. I was at the peak of my bike racing career then, having won a few bigger (for me) races that season, but I was no runner. Then through the 90s I continued to dabble in running each fall, but opting for the 5k option at this race in the years I did it. That continued up until 2003.

In 2004 I must have started running more often, and since then I've made the 10k every October, save for the 2007 debacle. My best time was in 2008, when I was killing it in my sneakers. The history:

2009, 11th, 38:21
2008, 12th, 37:35
2007 missed it
2006, 17th, 40:27
2005, 12th, 41:43
2004, 27th, 44:27

The course is not certified, but it's exactly the same every year, and I've no reason to believe it isn't legit. With the hills it's not fast. Typically Canton only draws around 175 runners each for the 5k and 10k, which start together before taking divergent paths just after the one mile marker. This year they somehow more than doubled that, so good for them. The quality has been lacking though, with just a handful of really fast guys showing up, as evidenced by the not-so-fast times of my top 20 placings. The race is well run for the most part, but awards are always a totally disorganized shit show, dragging on for what seems like hours as runner after runner from 5k and 10k age group podiums goes up to the table, hears the speech about what the best prizes left are, then takes their time picking through envelopes and other goodies. Many people leave, and the fast "money" runners probably avoid the race for this reason. Too bad.

I almost did not go. My knee was feeling twingy on Friday, but during the cx race Saturday it was fine. When I got to Canton Sunday I felt good warming up, even though the 3/4 mile from where I parked to the race was all I did, save for a few strides waiting for the fun run to end and the races to begin. At the gun it's flat for about 1/2 mile before starting down the hill toward Ponkapoag. You're mixed in with the 5k runners, many of whom are fast school kids, so it's hard to tell how you're doing. Not that pacing is my strong suit. Plus, with the undulating nature of this course, splits are never close to even anyway. I hit the first mile in 5:53. The leaders were WAY ahead. Half of the twenty runners ahead of me turned off for the 5k.

Mile two was 5:57, I think, again mostly downhill. I knew this was too fast but it's downhill so I kept on truckin. On the wall I caught a kid in front of me even though I slowed down a lot. There were not a lot of footsteps audible around us. Pretty lonely actually. Mile three ends in a downhill but it still took 6:18, quite a drop. We bottomed out through some road construction, starting the rolling grind up Elm Street. If there was a mile four marker, I missed it. I knew I was going slow though, yet I still caught the kid (who had pulled away on the descent) again. This process then repeated itself on the next downward dip, and he held the gap this time. I was fading in mile five, same as last year. Onto Dedham street, the last hundred yards of mile five is the wall in front of the Colgate building. My split for miles four and five was 13:18, or 6:39s, a pretty bad plunge. This put me at 31:35 or so with 1.217 miles to go. I knew my stretch goal of sub-39 was in jeopardy, but I still had to try. And I felt pretty good in spite of really pushing it all the way to the end, but alas the clock was at 39:18 when I crossed. At least nobody caught me from behind. My closing pace must have been around 6:21, just over my race average of 6:20, so I couldn't have botched the pacing too badly.

Four seconds slower than at Dorchester, but on a much tougher course, in high winds, the day after a cx race. I'll take it. The minute I lost since last year, and the two since 2008 matches up pretty well with the 2 seconds/mile/pound theory, as I'm up a few from last year and a few more from the year before that. So one of my goals for November is to lose two kg. Any bets? I cooled down, helped myself to a bunch of take away foods, changed at my car, jogged back, and still had to wait at least forty five minutes for my turn at the prize table. I'd finished 10th overall out of 360 or so, first out of the 56 male 40-49 group (despite finishing behind a 50 y.o. and a 58 y.o., so much for this getting easier next year). When I finally got up there all the cash and supermarket gift certificates were gone, but I managed to score a $25er to Tri-Town Discount Liquors, which should be good for a quartet of 22's. Thanks for reading.

Canton Cup CX

2010-10-31T22:28:00.002-04:00

No pretty pictures from this one. Maybe something will turn up. Canton is sort of the hometown cx race for me, being only six miles or so from home, and less than two from work. I like this race, but maybe I've looked at it with rose-colored glasses because it's close to home. Or maybe now that I've had a chance to get used to the structure and organization of the big races (I've done five doubles already this season!), the missing attention to detail at races like this one is starting to bug me. Don't get me wrong, I still like its long, fast course with lots of pavement, but for $30 (x 400 riders) I think a timing service for full results, proper staging, and MUCH better course security are warranted. Maybe next year.

This event also sports a 3/4 Master 45+ instead of the standard 1-4. Kind of weird. But good for me, I guess. The race predictor had me 16th for this one. I thought I could do better, especially since I actually rode my bike twice this week. To further my cause, I broke my rule about never working on my cx bike. Deciding that having brakes that could actually slow me down might somehow help me ride around the course faster, at 8 PM Friday night I commenced to install new Swiss Stop pads in my aging Froglegs. The rears went OK, but since I'm a perfectionist (just because I hate working on bikes doesn't mean I'm a half ass), and my kitchen lacks a bench grinder, hand-filing the cable housings and all that (like drinking a Corsendonk) pushed it out to around 10 pm by the time I started working on the fronts.

This proved to be a pain in the ass, and the alloy pad holder on one side just wouldn't adjust and stay put. So I went to take it apart, and SNAP. The P.O.S. was all seized, and now it's busted. Fuckin' aye. Up to the bike room, rummaging through the junk bins eventually yields a pair of LX MTB cantis, the low profile kind. Well they have to work. I know they are not good with drop bar levers, so I set them up with the pads WAAAAAYYYYY out, and low and behold, they seem to be OK. Maybe that would have been my photo. I finished everything up about 12:40. Fuck.

Saturday I got to the race at 0900, getting on the course before the first event. Part two of my plan was committing to run a file tread on the front. I've been training on it all week (a pure file, no side knobs) and had confidence. With all the pavement here, and the tight sidewalk, I felt giving something up on the grass would be more than offset by gains on the pavement. Of course, I did not have one glued up for the rear. This year's layout was faster and bumpier than in the past, but there were no deal breakers as far as changing my tire plan. I rode as fast as I could around the corners, testing them by pulling the foot out Tim Johnson style. BTW, I realize riding no gloves is all the rage this year, with the Nine Ball Diaries surely being responsible for this, no matter what anyone tells you. Well, I consider gloves important safety equipment, and I wear them all the time. Long fingers and short sleeves. Sue me. Putting the foot out though, watch Tim, he does that all the time too. So screw you.

I tried a Michelin Jet on the rear, but it was underinflated and I was sliding all over the place. For the race, I compromised and put my aging red "slicker than owl shit" Tufo on the back. My logic was that it's sort of like a file tread, not as knobby as my Fango anyway. And I'm not an embro guy either, having made it 25 years without using ANY lotions, oils, butt lube creams, etc, but I won a bottle of Freddy's Choice warming oil at the Rehoboth TT, and I've been slapping some of that shit on my legs for good luck. Hasn't hurt yet. And so ends my intensive prep for this race. I got all of two minutes on the trainer before realizing it was 10:45 and I'd better go hang out next to the starting line and prepare for the rumble/clusterphuck. But I ended up second row anyway. Whatever.

On the whistle I got out pretty decently. Maybe I'm racing in a slower crowd or something, but my starts seem to have improved. At least I'm getting close enough to the front that there's some room to move. This being a 3/4 race, with no 4 only masters category on top, probably had something to do with that. I went into the woods in around 10th. Even more encouraging, it was a very tight line and the leader was just ten bike lengths ahead. This is something I'm not used to. But it would not last.

Down the sidewalk and over the barriers, so far so good. Into the twisties I was still on John Grenier's (Fuji) wheel, but then on the second 180, about halfway through, I dug in the left pedal and immediately ate shit. Luckily Chip and the other two guys close behind me went around rather than over me. I got up quickly, with only the three of them getting by, but I'd jambed my thumb really bad in the fall (but didn't break it, thank you full gloves). And of course crashing and scrambling up generally pushes one closer to his limits. I did not get back to the line of riders in time to draft on the running track, or the autobahn straight that comes later. Actually I don't think I got a second of draft off of anyone after the first half lap.

So this would not be the race of my life. The laps were fairly long, so we expected to do only four, and that was how it worked out. I worked back up to Chip and company on the pavement, but then the Paul Weiss (Portland Velo) caught me from behind. The next three laps would end up being a battle between me and him, as gaps opened in front and behind us. Tom Stevens told Paul from the sidelines he was 13th, which made me 14th. I tried hard to drop him on the second lap, but he was firm, and he passed me going through the short barriers. On the third lap I just stayed behind him as best I could, trying not to make any mistakes. I was kind of torn about chasing after the next guy (Doug Aspinall (Joes) I think, and focusing on beating Paul. I chose the latter, staying back until the end of the sidewalk section, then attacking up the little rise into the short barriers. Getting through there well, I charged around the gravel corral, but in the twisties he was coming back. I did NOT want to tow him around the track, so I attacked HARD on the short bumpy straight into the hairpin that led back toward the runup. I held several bike lengths lead and nailed the clip in and screwed down the track before he got a chance to catch the draft. Aspinall looked like he was coming back to me but on the homestretch he disappeared and even got scored ahead of Geoff McIntosh, so maybe he caught him. Anyway, I got 13th.

Afterward I cooled down and watched the 35+, and Mary came by with her two new puppies to spectate, but I was still on the trainer and never got a chance to chat. My man Dee from way back also came to spectate, as well as Il Brucie, and we took time to heckle the twin towers Gewilli and Trackrich mercilessly before high-tailing to Napper Tandy's for some post-race nourishment. Thanks for reading.

Downeast CX Day 2

2010-10-31T21:41:00.005-04:00

Chasing Hamel into the barriers. Full left unclipped step-through and downtube grab for high uphill barriers. And no, I never practice.

Before I completely forget. After missing my callup on Saturday, I made sure that didn't happen. By Sunday I'd slipped far enough in Verge points to only be third row, but there was an empty slot in row two that I helped myself to. Only problem was that I'd only been around this layout twice, and there were a few spots I wasn't comfortable with. Well, not exactly the only problem. On the whistle I thought I was racing well, but so was everyone else, or so it seemed. My slide backward started early, like 1/4 of a lap in. The little off camber after the woods (not the big one with the barriers) gave me some trouble. Then I'd been warned about a slick spot over by the pumpkin barn, but I wasn't sure exactly where it was supposed to be, so I was too cautious over there too.

On the pavement I was OK again. Wayne Cunningham (Wheelworks) was not having a great day either and I ended up chasing him. Then on the third of five (or six?) laps, for the first time this year I was caught by the 55+ leaders, Timmy Groesbeck (CCB) and Ed Hamel (Joes Garage?), who had started 1:00 behind us. I let them through right away, figuring they'd pull me up to Wayne. But they seemed to slow down. I sat there and recovered, but then it was like "hey, he's getting away!" I had no choice but to ride around them and start chasing. They did not seem to mind, but I did not want to interfere with there race either. Having just had a half lap of recovery, I reeled Wayne in and passed him. But, as could be predicted, when I took a secret outside line along the tape in the twisties (there was tight grass there, and slick mud on the inside) he tried to come back around, and dumped it. The two 55+ did not get caught up in it though, and the three of us rode away. After one hard pull up the pavement and beside the cow barn, I waved them through again.

Here the Cronoman battles the ever present Cunningham on Saturday.

On the last lap I had five to ten seconds on Wayne. No 45+ were in sight ahead, I don't think. But Hamel tripped on the logs and fell. Tim rode away. I just followed, but Wayne pressed hard in the final half lap. So I rode safely until the asphalt and then lit it up, finishing up about 3:50 behind the 45+ winner, in 27th once again. We stuck around for all the later races too. You've seen some of the pics already. Thanks for reading.

Robin is an Adam fan, so she was really glad we stuck around to see the old guy spank the kids and get his first ever UCI CX win. And he's sportin' the Verge balls and schlong contrast stitching too, just like the new BOB kits.

Peoples

2010-10-28T07:10:00.010-04:00

Robin and the Fortinis.

Solobreak, with Paul Weiss on this side of the camera for a change. He kicked my ass both days (for a change!) too.

JRA Brian, aka Evil McKneivel, and Robin.

The Cronoman and the lovely Ms. Hansen are hat models.

Pineland and Solo at sunset.

Downeast CX Day 1

2010-10-28T06:54:00.007-04:00

There's no substitute for cubic inches. Your hero opens up the throttle to put some distance between himself, Derek, and Chip.

Since I didn't do so well, this might start off as a different sort of race report. If you were there, you might be bored. This is for those who missed it. Downeast was awesome. All the amenities of a Verge series race, but with only about half the people, in a huge and relaxing farm setting. The course was fantastic. Just about every surface you could imagine was included: heavy farm grass, groomed lawn grass, tacky mud, slippery mud, gravel, hardpack, pavement, concrete, and even little bits of sand and cow shit. I thought it was pretty Euro, especially the pasture and the 300+ meter paved incline that's missing from so many of our races. And there was some elevation change, but all of it was swoopy up and down for that roller coaster/berm-shot feel. On the Friday pre-ride, before the grass had been broken in, the course seemed sure to be heavy and slow, but after a few thousand laps of tamping, I ended up doing both days entirely in my 46T big chainring.

The weather was awesome on day 1, crisp and clear.

Me and Derek Griggs (KHS) seem to find each other every race this year. He told me I'm his top Crossresults nemesis.

Robin got another chance to race East-coast CX, doing the double in the 3/4 women. Big fields and cooler temps were a welcome change! Photo by Don McEwan

So like I mentioned yesterday, I started near the back. On the pavement I thought I did OK, but then at the first little roller coaster dip someone from ECV had a foot down for some reason and I got pinched. Then on the loose gravel behind the fire truck garage there was a sprawling crash, pretty much blocking the course. Great start. Not. Chip was right in front of me, but he moved up smartly for four or five spots while I got frustrated for most of first lap. This was my first race with not just one, but two Challenge Fangos gifted to me by Soups. They were better than my old tires, but my real problem is my bike doesn't fit me so well. The combination of short, 42 cm chainstays, HUGE setback, 15 mm too-long-for-me top tube and generous fork rake leave me with way too much rear weight bias. I've got the saddle almost slam-forward, and a 100mm stem, so my pedaling position is pretty close to my road bikes, but with no weight on the front wheel I just can't turn this thing on gravel or slippery stuff. At least that's my story. I've been chasing a new bike for a while now, but that's another frustrating tale, and it looks like I'll be on this sled for a bit more yet. I know, excuses...

On the pavement, as we see up top, I moved up. I may be a little (cough) heavy right now, and losing fitness, but I still found a turn of speed when I needed one. Eventually I settled in to a race-long battle with Derek, who just wouldn't go away. I'm not sure if we reeled in many riders or not, as sometimes it's difficult to tell who is a 55+ being lapped and who is just coming back in the 45+. In the end I crossed in 27th (I think 45 starters), a full 4:00 down on the winner. Not what I'd hoped for, but I honestly felt good the entire race, no dead laps, and I was digging for speed on all the power sections beginning to end. This was a real sprint workout for me. The only rest sections were in the tight turns, and the rest was out of the saddle, don't let up stuff. That's all I got today, enjoy the pictures, thanks for reading.

You write the caption

2010-10-27T09:16:00.002-04:00

???

Solo and the announcer profilin' at, where else, the start/finish.

So it began

2010-10-27T08:24:00.006-04:00

Pro tip: It's not a good sign when you're back there with the guys wearing full leggings and off-the-rack bike shop jackets.

We've got lots of media from the past weekend's racing, but not a lot of time today, so I'm going to feed this to you in byte-sized pieces. Saturday, my two lonely Verge Series points should have had me starting in the second row, but once again I wandered off to irrigate the pasture and missed my callup. Back of the group for you! Too bad, as we'd gone up on Friday and ridden six laps of the course, plus I got in two more the morning of the race. Of course on Sunday, I did start second row, but had only been around the new layout twice, and did not exactly have it dialed... But that's a story for later. Thanks for reading.

The King of Style

2010-10-25T21:59:00.002-04:00

Lots of cool shit happened this weekend, but finally meeting up with The King of Style has to be some of the coolest. Ted and his bro were spotted spectating at Downeast CX on Sunday. In case you missed it, Mr. King signed with Liquigas earlier this month, Pro Tour baby, and there was much rejoicing. Thanks for the photos Ted!

Douching it up in Dot

2010-10-19T21:24:00.005-04:00

Post race festivities with Les, Angel, and some poor girl unfortunate enough to be in our vicinity when the camera came out.

These are for Jonny, because he disses running so much.

No cross for me this weekend. Three reasons: I had stuff to do, I needed a break, and I'm not a muddah. And it was time for the Boston Firefighters 10k on Sunday. Last year my mate Les, an almost-retired firefighter from Chelmsford turned me on to this race and the magnificent after party. Florian Hall, headquarters of the BFD Local 718 is home to many great running races, but this one is the best of the best. Lots of races give you a free "beer" afterward (usually a cup of Coors Light...) but how many have you two-fisting Sam's Octoberfest for three hours after crossing the line? This one does. And we did. As you can see, the band has gone home, the parking lot is emptying, and we're...

Oh yeah, the race. This is a super flat and super fast 10k out and back, straight up Morrisey Boulevard, around UMass, and back. Around 800 runners turned out, many of them firefighters, but with both the pub series final and the Bay State marathon going on the same day, not a ton of serious club runners come out for this one. Which is fine with me. I've been running at least twice a week, but my fitness has been in a steep decline of late, for various reasons. Darkness, burnout, non-athletic activities... you know how it is. And nearly all my running has been on the steep, rocky trails of the Blue Hills this year, not exactly speedwork. I've only run one race this fall, the Walpole 10k where I opened the season with a 41:05. Now last year, on zero training, I put in a 42 something at Walpole yet roared back for a 38:49 at the BFD10k, in the pouring rain. So I really had no idea how this would turn out. My plan was to go out at 6:25-6:30 and see what happens.

I did not get in a great warmup, and my second PB&J of the morning was probably one too many. Not only that, but since it was 38 degrees when I got up, I expected chilly weather and only brought a long sleeve jersey to run it. Well it warmed up a lot by 10, but at least the wind was coming off the water pretty good. After meeting Les, I cued up near the front and off we went. I had almost twenty runners in front of me, and it felt pretty easy, but then I noticed Brendan Lynch (HFC) was leading, but really not very far ahead. This indicated I may be running too fast, so I slowed a little. After a half mile things opened up, but my HR was still only 140, so I held my pace. The first mile came up in around six flat. Hmmm. maybe too fast. Feeling OK, I did not slow down much, and before long my HR was 150. Then 154 as mile two passed in 6:14. Now I was worried. If my HR got to 157, I slowed a bit. Some of the other runners had faded and now things were spread out. Entering the UMass campus, I found myself in a three way battle with the lead woman and the lone wheelchair racer.

On one side of the school there was no wind and it got warm. The loop is totally flat. The third mile was 6:22 and now we were going straight into the wind. The wheelchair dude was bumming at this point. I drafted off anyone I could, but back on the boulevard mile four had taken 6:28. This was still keeping the HR at 157 or less, but now with two miles to go I figured I could run it up a bit more. Mile five was 6:21. It's all flat, so not much to talk about here. One dude did come from behind and pass me. By staying on him a bit I dropped the wheelchair and the lead woman. But then I got dropped. Too bad, as he reeled in at least one more guy. My HR was 160+ now, and I was doing my best to find some turnover. I've had a nasty blister on one foot all season too, and now it was hurting. They had a mile six marker and that came in 6:22 as well, then I think I fell apart a bit in the final .217. Crossed the line with an official time of 39:14, so 25 seconds slower than last year, 11th overall. I think this works out to a 6:20 pace.

I was not as wrecked as normal post-race, so maybe I didn't try hard enough, or maybe I just metered my energy better and did not have to die a thousands deaths the entire second half like I usually do. Les came in at 46 something I think; he only got beat by one woman with a baby jogger. She was no match for him at he beer truck though. His buddy Angel from the New Bedford FD (kneeling in front, top pic) kicked my ass with a 38:30 but since the firefighters get their own awards, I still got 3rd in the 40-49. Thanks for reading.

Providence and Gloucester

2010-10-11T11:28:00.009-04:00

Gewilli and Solo going by the pit on lap two. I will write this up later. Photo courtesy of JLS

Well I guess I never even wrote up Gloucester. Here is the reader's digest version: Day 1, downhill start, 5th row middle on the grid, got to the right edge of the pavement, taking the inside high line onto the off-camber dirt. Well, apparently someone else had an idea of inside that was more inside than mine, and I got cleaned out as he squeezed by. Getting your bars walloped from behind just as you hit sloping gravel at speed buys you a quick ticket to the ground. Lucky for me none of the 40 guys bearing down from arears ran me over too badly, and I even got up and remounted before they all passed. But so much for a good start. I don't recall too many other details, other than making decent forward progress for a while and then tangling with my teammate the Cronoman, who races me harder than anyone else. That was dirt trip number two if you're keeping score. At the end I got caught by a back-from-an-earlier-tangle-with-somebody Helicopter Matt D. Going for the big ring after the last chicane I could not get the chain to jump up, so instead I executed plan B and paddled the rear changer to the 12. And of course the front then decided to go up to the 46. At the time I did not realize what had happened, and the gear was so big it felt like the rear wheel had popped out and was rubbing the chainstays. I could barely turn it and in the last hairpin on to the pavement I'm thinking "how did that happen with vertical dropouts?" which of course it did not, but that's the sort of thing that goes through my mind during moments like this. So I got nowhere near Matt in the sprint, and ended up 29th on the day, which really wasn't bad for two crashes and a 78 rider starting field. I was 4:10 down on the winner though, nothing to be proud of. Spent the rest of the day drinking beer with Timmy, Crono, some other mates, and of course Paul Nixon. Guess I remembered more than I thought. It's coming back to me now. At Gloucester, the beer tent (which was more of a corral to contain the area where beer sales were licensed for the day) is situated in such a way that all you could see was the run-up. If they really want more people to hang around, they should a) make it much bigger, and b) put it over on the edge of the hill where you can see everything, and c) put a big screen in there. Or something like that.

Day 2 at Gloucester at least we started uphill. I should have been in the third row, but they announced "six minutes to staging" and I went to do one little sprint and came back to find five rows already staged. It was a total shit show; they may as well have just done the traditional rush to the line. On the gun I just rolled up the inside, then did the "second sprint" to move up a few places entering the grass. In the video you can see I come through 41st, so not a horrible start by my standards. I thought I had a good ride, but I don't remember much at all at this point. In the end I was again 29th, after a mad sprint finish against Bill Thompson (Keltic) which I proudly took from the front by delaying as long as possible and then matching his jump, almost like I knew what I was doing. Same result by placing, but this time only 3:12 back from winner, which is more like it.

I did not race at Night Weasels. But just in case I did, for Providence I registered for the 35+ on Saturday, and the 45+ on Sunday. My logic was after a rough week at work and a late Wednesday of Weaseling, the extra hour on Saturday morning would come in handy. Plus the 35+ has the course all to themselves, so it's a more legit race, not to mention having Gewilli and Shah-Bow for company. In the end, I barely recognized anyone on the start list for the Weasel, and it was cold and rainy Wednesday night. I even got as far as working from the Framingham office in order to be closer to the event. At 5 pm however, sitting in my car in the parking garage, staring at the gas guage on "E" and thinking about driving home at midnight with a muddy bike and clothes, the Should I stay or should I go decision was to just drive home. Night Weasels was by young people for young people, and I'm old people. It was the correct decision...

Thursday I even found time to ride my road bike for 45 minutes, my first ride since Sunday. Friday was another busy day at work (new chain of command), but I forced myself onto the trainer for the first time this fall for "openers" which meant a little pedaling just to prevent rigor-mortis. Saturday I had some errands to run, which I did on the way to the race. Pressed for time, I checked out a lap of the course wearing a helmet and street clothes. Then the 45+ went off, leaving Timmy's trainer vacant, so I got kitted and warmed up, a little anyway. Somehow I got to start in the second row, right next to Markie Mac. My plan was to give it a try, but slide back to where I belonged early on, as the 35+ are much faster than the 45+ (even though the two out of the top three guys are over 45). Sure enough, by the time we hit the second turn, the only one behind me was Gewilli, and I think he passed me too. I was really trying to just follow Chabot, as he's pretty smooth and fast, but weak enough that I should be able to use the straights to close any gaps.

Some riders started falling by the wayside with bike issues early on. They should try my strategy of hardly ever letting tools and bikes get near each other. Up on the nasty top part of the course, Gewilli had the back wheel of his bike flopping back and forth like the tail of a beached mermaid. Mofo is not easy to follow. He got away by a few spots, but once we got back to the pavement, completing lap one, Shah-Bow had a line of about six guys behind him. As if he has a motor. Sensing the urgency of the situation, Willi blasted up the side to the aid of his team mate and hit the front. It was kind of touching and impressive in an elementary school play kind of way, seeing the kids work together in their little matching suits. But now I had six bodies between me and the only two guys I cared about racing against, so I was forced to leave the comfort of the pack and mover around everyone to get behind them before the grass. Which I did, and I think the pic above was snapped shortly after that. Not sure where Shah-Bow is, but I'm thinking he moved back in front. It was right after this that I made the "he's like a Subaru Justy" comment. That came to mind because it's a 3 cylinder, and he wasn't exactly hauling, but perhaps Fiat X1/9 would be more like it, good handling, no motor. Mostly I was just trying to heckle them in a calm voice to demonstrate contrast from Willi's gasping for air.

I believe we completed another lap without anyone really challenging our train. Then at the start of lap 3, Matt M came by us, apparently coming back from a tire issue. Knowing he was younger/stronger/faster than the clowns I was with, I jumped on his wheel, hoping for a tow to the promised land. We got through the 180 by the pits smooth and faster than I usually go, which of course took us to the next turn, a high-speed 45 degree off-camber left-hander around a tree, much faster than I was planning on taking it. Matt used up ALL the course, bobbling a bit on the exit as he flirted with the tape. Well, I was not so fortunate, and basically careened out wide, taking a stake with the front wheel just as it was sliding out from under me. Relatively heavy impact, but it was soft ground and I held the bars all the way down (that is how you keep your clavicle from getting busted). With Chabot on my wheel, I immediately went fetal and waited for the aftershock, but he did not hit me that hard. He was able to get up and take off fairly quickly. I lay there stunned for a second before getting to my feet and rolling away. Being pretty close to my limit just before the crash, I was now totally blown from the impact. And I had to stop and straighten my shifter, which Jerry must have landed on or something. Giving desperate chase, I was way into the red and tripped on the stairs, dropping the chain of the bike in the process. Everything going from bad to worse. It took a clumsy and slow half a lap for me to regain my composure, eventually passing a rider or two and getting maybe 15 seconds behind Gewilli. I got to two to go and heard them saying the leader had 1 to go while I was riding up the hill behind the pavilion. Taking a last minute run at Willi on the final lap was on my mind, even though it was a longshot. But then they pulled us entering the final straight! Huh? I was like WTF Kinnen, we're not lapped, and she says "80% rule." Well I'll be damned. To the uninitiated, this is a rule where if you're 80% of the leader's lap time behind, you're all done, even if you're not actually lapped yet. This was the first time I'd seen it used in an amateur event. Never had taken the time to understand it before, as it only applied to the pro race. So I looked it up, finding it contains an exception for when the leader is on his/her final lap, which in this case they were. So it would seem the rule was mis-applied in our case, as we were taking the bell at the point we got pulled from the race. The next time the leader crossed (about a minute later) his race was OVER AND WON, meaning of course we were not in any danger of being lapped, which is the reason for the last lap exception. Hopefully the officials learned something from our protest and see it our way in the future... At any rate, I still got in 45 minutes and five laps, which is all I would have got in the 45+ race had I done that, so with a race on Sunday coming up, I took this in stride. We stayed in the park and drank beer while watching the other races all afternoon. A true ritual.

Sunday I was in the 45+ where I belonged, which meant getting there a little earlier. The layout was another familiar Roger Williams Park course, with some sketchy narrow sections fenced off to facilitate using as much of the park as possible. Again I got to start in the second row, as my lonely two Verge series points earned me a call up. This time I was behind Carl Reglar (Danbury Audi). On the whistle he missed his pedal, but I managed to get to the left (inside) and make a fair sprint to the grass. After two turns and I'm looking around and the guys I'm with are all the people who've been finishing minutes ahead of me all year, so I guess this was a good start. Probably my best ever. Into the chicane I'm clusterphucking the inside line around the fencing and this dude from Beacon Cross takes exception, body checking me into the fence. Whatever, as I'm pulling a dick move, but if I don't do it someone else will. So on the next fence pole, I do it again, and this time the guy gets really pissed, slam-chopping me again. Kind of silly as I think it cost him time, so I guess he wanted to make a statement. Turns out he was the guy who won the 45+ race on Saturday. He rode off and I never saw him again. But I must have had a really great start to be up that far!

The turn where I bailed on Saturday was also part of the course on Sunday. During warmup, I'd had Saturday's 35+ winner, 51 year old national champ and ex-ISDT pro Kevin Hines give me a riding lesson. Thank you Kevin, this was a big help, and I got through there clean as a whistle every lap. I found myself in a train with Brian McGinnis (JRA), Dave Belknap (Cycle Lodge) and a few others. Like I said, guys who have been ten spots ahead of me all year. I struggled with the lines in a few sections but for the most part it was the same as last year so it was not too bad. I stayed with these guys for two laps. It looked like we were going to do six. One by one these guys trickled by me, and then going up the pavilion slog I got gapped off. Seems maybe my Saturday recovery strategy of nothing but beer between my pre-race meal and 6 pm fish tacos was catching up to me. Classic middle of the race bad patch, and the group rode away. Bob Bisson (Gearworks) and a few other guys came by from behind too. Prior to the slide, someone had said I was 18th. With about two to go I got a bit of a second wind, and by now I had the course figured out better. Soups was still in sight in front of me, but I had Keith Button and Andy Durham (both CCB) breathing down my neck. I realized that downshifting more was better, as I couldn't muscle the climbs as easily as on the first lap or two. With one to go my goal was to hold off Keith, so I started really sprinting out of every corner, then recovering going in to avoid mistakes. This worked out well, as did my 36x27 on the steep ride up, and I held him off, finishing 19th, just 3:01 down. I guess several guys ahead of me had issues and dropped out. My mate Billy C had crashed heavily behind me somewhere, cracking a rib or two. Wonder if it was the same one he broke when I fell on him in May 2009? Heal up dude.

After a cooldown ride we focused on draining the cooler. We had a number of special guests stop by our campsite. I promised someone, whose name I don't recall, that I would pimp Phit Pills on the blog, so there you go. Today I got to ride my road bike. And Gewilli gave me some sauce to eat, maybe tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

Gloucester Tease

2010-10-06T07:19:00.006-04:00

No time for a meaningful post, so I may just trickle out some great images from the weekend to try to tell the story with pictures for now. Here is your hero on the finish hill, day 2, courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com Thanks for viewing..

The pavilion turn, day 1.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

Battling Wayne C, early day 2.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com .

Day 1, hurdle pain, eagle face.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

Chicane action, unclipping, day 1.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

Hurdles, day 2.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

Hurdles, day 1.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

Off-camber concentration, day 2.Courtesy of Nick at bicykel.com.

The Return of Dusty Hardpack

2010-09-29T06:23:00.008-04:00

Yeah I raced the popular Sucker Brook CX for the first time. Along with the Canton Cup and Shedd Park, SB is one of the big "little" races. As somebody who suffered through the early years of New England cyclocross, personally I appreciate the structure and consistency of the Verge series. Non-series races are kind of like the old days, when you never really knew what to expect at a race. Promoter's ideas of what was good cyclocross varied a lot, and they still do today, but at least it's become better, probably due to the example set at the big series races. It will be interesting to see how things run at Gloucester and Providence this year now that they've gone renegade.

Sucker Brook scored high marks with an organized paddock area, a well marked and fenced course, and legit barriers. All of it was wide enough to pass, with only one stupid log obstacle, and a miserable sandpit (drivetrain companies must pay these guys off or something). Half the course was a tape maze, but it was very well laid out, fast, challenging without much awkwardness. I thought the barrier placement was pretty strange, about 20 meters after a very slow section, but it was helpful for me as I'm cautious on high speed barriers anyway. After the hurdles you entered the other half of the course, which was a featureless gravel road, the log, and the sand. There was a short paved section to the finish line. Laps were short, but still over seven minutes for me. I heard rumors of five minutes in the elite race.

The laps distance would have been fine, except since this was a small race they lumped the 35+, 45+, and 55+ all on the course at the same time. For some reason it was decided the 35+ would get a two minute head start on the 45+, then one minute to the 55+. Seemed a little crazy to me, as there were no severe bottlenecks on the first half of the course. But with three fields out there at once, I guess compromises need to be made. We had 44 starters in the 45+, I think. The other two fields were about the same, as this race is run by a 55+ guy and it's really popular with those dudes as a result.

Let's back up. Earlier in the week I'd thought about doing Loon. But I have been wicked tired, and lacking motivation to train. I have still been training, but it's been a struggle. Last weekend was a double race in VT, not to mention eight hours driving. Monday I rested a bit. Tuesday I did a hard, hilly trail run of over an hour. Wednesday I did some hard cross practice. Thursday I just rode on the road a little bit. Friday another hard trail run, this time rolling an ankle and getting a minor high sprain that didn't really start hurting until Sunday. But that was five hard efforts in seven days, and Saturday I was feeling it. Though I really needed a long road ride, it took me all morning to find the energy. I was glad I did not opt to race at Loon. He almost had me, but then a twitter pic of the ski slope crab grass scared me off. So Saturday afternoon I went out on my road bike, goal of 80k. Not much right? Well it felt like 180k. Took me over three hours. I did manage to get up Big Blue in 5:22 (this is on the 10kg Soma), averaging 408 watts for the best five minutes. Even at my present rotund 79kg, that is still half decent, and I don't know where that came from because the rest of the ride I was barely movin'.

Sunday at the race I tried to warmup well. My cx bike has not been out of the car all week. It is fifteen years old, and it looks it, in stark contrast to the sleek and spiffy machines 90% of the competition ride. But it keeps making it through the races, which is more than I can say for some... My HR wouldn't go above 135 in warmup, despite pushing up some hills. I put wheels in the pit and rode back to the line, where everyone had already lined up fifteen minutes early. So I'm back row. On the start I thought I did ok but I was still way at the back. Yes it was dusty. On a double back I saw team mate Billy C leading the race! Wow. He is riding well lately. I'd only done one pre-ride lap so I messed up a few times, and then lost some ground on the two big rollers before the barriers when the Woodsman bobbled in front of me.

I had good legs on the dirt road, but it was too dusty to see. Made it over the log and through the sandpit without incident, but it was pretty hard. On the pavement and gravel after that I passed several people. The next lap was better, but I still veered off course a few times as I did not know it well. Moved up more on the pavement again. Then the third time I came out of the sandpit feeling pretty blown. The problem with this course is that there was no recovery section. Just the pavement, which was uphill. So I did not move up that lap. At least in this race (the 45+) I personally did not see any bonehead moves like we usually do. All year things have been pretty good in that regard (watch me get waylaid this week). Maybe the separate master 4 races are helping keep out the riff-raff, so lay off the "special snowflake" shit please. Some guy raced me really hard for the log jump, with us leaning on each other big time, but it was great, just the way it should be. He did not yell at me to not chop him... he just pushed back.

The turns before the sandpit owned me. I would get up a lot of speed on the little straightaway preceding them, but the high bushes made it blind and twice I almost went right out of the chute. This and my relaxing on the pavement brought Chris Burke, Jim Mills, and Tom Stevens, three guys I'd passed earlier, right back up to my wheel. Then another guy starts pressuring me to go faster. Turns out it's Shah-Bow, back from a broken chain in the 35+. He ridicules my lines and passes me, so I follow him. My eyes don't pick up all the imperfections in the dirt surface, thus I went to school following this master of the tape maze. This drew me out clear of his team mate Burke; nice work. We pulled out maybe ten seconds, then took two to go at the line. Shortly thereafter the lead three from the 35+ passed us on the gravel road. Jerry nearly took Rob Hult out. Curtis grumbled about lap traffic. So now we're lapped, by the 35+ anyway, and I'm like "sweet, we're done." Going just hard enough to stay ahead of the following trio, I cross the line and Kinnen says "45+ one to go." This was after telling us five times that everyone finishes on the same lap. I looked over my shoulder and was like "screw you, I'm done" even though this would mean a score on the DNF Green Monster for me. Stevens et all kept going, also meaning I'd lose three hard-earned places. Yet I did not care. Luckily though, I think everyone who followed was of the same mind, and the officials changed their ruling and scored us as it should have been all along. So those guys did an extra lap for nothing, heh-heh. I ended up 17th, near as I can tell about three minutes behind the 45+ winner. Not great, but better than I expected.

So ends your weekly fodder. Maybe I'll have more about why I'm so tired later. Double race weekend coming up. Ugghh. Thanks for reading.

Gymkhana and Can Am

2010-09-22T05:19:00.009-04:00

Or cyclocross and stupid car analogies. Something to spice up an otherwise totally boring mid-pack finish race report. With the pre-season opener at Quad Cross in Bedford in the books, this past weekend it was time to move on to the real deal and the first Verge series weekend, up in the hinterlands of Williston, VT. Personally I haven't been up there since this became a big race, and in fact have only raced at the sprawling Catamount Family Center a couple of times, once at a cross race maybe five years ago, and once in the dark neon ages of mountain biking. Were I not so lazy I'd scan a pic of me with an original white Camelback and pepperoni-forked Cannondale MTB. But I am lazy; no pic for you.

Willi was supposed to make the long-assed drive to VT with me, but at the last minute the idea of being trapped in a confined space for four hours with Nega-Coach before an important race weekend scared him off and he made other travel arrangements. No matter, as we probably couldn't fit him and all his shit in the XBox anyway. Instead I clicked the cruise control on and coasted along deserted I-89, getting to the venue totally painlessly.

Shah-bow had provided pre-race intelligence that the course was "totally non-technical easy grass with too much climbing" or something like that. Having been here before, I knew the course lay on a hillside, but last time it was deep cow-pasture grass with a single line worn in by mountain bikes. This year I was pleasantly surprised to find the serpentine layout mowed pretty tight (by Vermont standards anyway) probably three meters wide just about all the way around. There was still a line worn to the dirt where tires rolled much more easily, but being deep and narrow it wasn't always faster to try to stay in it, and the penalty for deviating from it was minor compared to the past. The course twisted and turned up and down the hill twice per nine-minute lap, climbing close to 60 meters vertical each time. Honestly it had plenty of turns, enough to confuse me to the point that there's no way I could draw an aerial of it even after racing there. The thing was that after last weeks's too tight, low-speed gymkhana jamboree at Quad, this was more like Can-Am at Road America. It wasn't the lack of turns that had underpowered sewing machine-motored riders whining, it was the ample fast sections. The turns were mostly fast, if you had the power to get to them with speed. If you had tea-cup racer power, well then sure, you could probably take most of it flat out.

Anyway, we had a bike race. The weather was awesome all weekend. The atmosphere at the venue was super-relaxed, probably because it was Vermont, and everyone was there for the weekend. Probably the best scene I've experienced at a race in a long time. Paul was there announcing (and racing) but he's still wise enough to keep me away from the mic after a few beers. They had a food/coffee truck too. So anyway, about 45 guys lined up for the 45+ race, and it started uphill. Everyone is on a totally decked-out cross bike these days, except me that is. Mine is now almost fifteen years old (I think, but can't be sure) and hurting in more ways than one. But it felt OK. I ran clinchers, an old green Michelin Mud on the front and a Mud2 on the back. Seemed OK, as there were no rocks on this course, so the chance of pinch flats was low. And I aired them up to the high 30's anyway, maybe more. Solobreak does not obsess over these things.

I did not get a call up and lined up at the back with the Mayor. On the whistle the pack took off up the hill fairly gently. I expected people to blow up, so I kind of took it easy, figuring that moving up would be much easier after a lap or two. But with the length of the lap, we would only be doing five total. I'm not going to write much about the race because all I remember is making steady forward progress, then going too hard on the "bmx jump" section and sort of blowing up, taking the third lap at more of a recovery pace, then picking up a few more spots as the end neared. On the last lap there was nobody in sight in front of me, but a Bikeman guy was stalking me from around ten seconds back. I rode a bit conservatively rather than risk crashing. The top 25 finishers get Verge series points, thus earning callups for the start of the remaining Verge series races this season. I could only recall passing 10-15 riders during the race, but could not be sure of my placing. So when the stalker reeled me in with 400 meters to go, we might have still been racing for "something." Which meant I had to sprint. Well, I managed to beat him, but it was for 29th, no points for you. All that work for nothing. My finish time was around 4:30 behind the winner, which was about average last year. On this course, which suited me, I would have hoped to do better. Last year I think I got as close as 2:10 at Noho.

Saturday night I stayed at Jerry's house with Soups, Curtis, Willi, and C-Burke. It was fun. I got to meet J's wife Sabine, who is WAY nicer than he is, and also got to see my little buddy Benji, who I hadn't bonded with since nearly running him over and killing him at Putney last year. We made friendly and now all is good, I think. Sunday with just a ten minute drive back to the race, I got lazy and took my time. When I got there I was pre-kitted, going for a dirt road ride to warm up. Man I felt like shit, but I forced myself to do some uphill tempo, then made it onto the new course layout for a pre-ride before staging. This course was very cool, shorter than Saturday at 7 minutes, but with perhaps the longest pedaling section in memory. All the way from the barriers at the low end of the course to the log run/ride at the high point was pedaling with little interruption. Which was one reason I chose to run the logs. Personally I felt the challenge there was far more physical than technical, and after blowing up Saturday on the BMX jump I did not want to repeat the mistake again. Coming off the long pedaling section, with a minute or so of false flat following the logs, in this case running seemed almost like recovery to me, and was just as fast. Maybe all my trail running was paying off.

Anyway, again I had to start last row. Then I wasn't paying attention and the race took off without me. Gewilli heckled me about my piss-poor start, but with the wide, open track and lots of climbing, this time I made quicker forward progress. Saturday I think I sat down too much on the climbs, not figuring out until late in the race that mixing in more standing was better. Sunday I stood more. On the second lap I passed the Cronoman when he flatted, soon finding myself in the midst of riders who had finished a minute or so ahead of me in the two races thus far this season. Good. Or better anyway. Eventually I found my spot in a group with Wayne Cunningham (NEBC) and Geoff McIntosh (NHCC) with nobody close behind nor visible ahead. This was maybe the third of six laps. I was faster than these guys on the climbs, especially the slight grade to the finish line. For some reason they were taking the last corner tight instead of rolling it, and I could easily launch out of it quicker doing it my way. So when my uphill attacks on them failed (as I'd inevitably slow down and get reeled in trying to recover) I decided to just stay with them and beat them in the sprint. There were a few places where they'd open small gaps with aggressive riding, but I was coming back pretty much at will. On the last lap though, maybe I eased too much or maybe they gassed it, but coming off the logs the gap got scary and by the barriers at the bottom of the slalom they had 5-10 seconds. But this was the long pedaling section. At the far south end of the course on the flat, fast turns, it was like they put the brakes on and I rolled right up to them. I was pretty blown, but there was still time. The last tight 180 before the finish had a little hump right at the apex, and I really had this one dialed. Coming out of it my prey were right in front of me, and I got in the big ring and clicked up a few cogs. Again they took the last 90 tight, so tight in fact that when I did my outside in they were going inside out, with me easily getting by before we even finished turning, taking the more tamped-down and direct route to the line. Already carrying more speed, I got to the line first. Yet there were an awful lot of finishers already assembled in the cool down area... Twenty five?

I was almost puking from my last half-lap effort, and I rolled around, got a jacket, and went out on the road for a ride. When results were finally posted I was 24th, with two precious Verge points! The fruits of labor! And only about 3:30 behind the winner this time, much more like it. Ok, that's enough, got to go now. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I didn't. Next time maybe pictures. Thanks for reading, sorry about the typos, I'll fix them later.

Back to school

2010-09-12T18:42:00.006-04:00

First things first. I finally put the moon discs on the XBox. They don't fit quite right though. And I wish I got them painted body color. Going for the lakester look.

Almost fifteen years ago, at the first "blizzard" cross nationals in Leicester, MA, one half lap into the main event my left meniscus said "enough of this cross shit," dropping me to the ground in the middle of the snowy runup. I was done for the day, on my way to the OR for repairs. Since it was the off season, and I'd neglected to attend college in my youth (I was 34 at the time), to keep me busy during my convalescence I enrolled in a winter intersession course at Middlesex Community College. One thing lead to another and for the next seven years bike racing went on the back burner while I spent my time going to night school to earn a BS in IT (kind of an acronym for bullshit now that I look at it), eventually graduating from UMass Lowell in 2003, then returning to... bike racing. But the first seven or eight courses of my program were at MCC, and today I returned there, for, of all things, a bike race. You didn't think this paragraph was pointless, did you?

This was my first time at the Quad Cycles race, even though it's been running for a few years now. As I've written several times before, I don't take cross all uber seriously the way so many of my readers do. It's hard and it's competitive and it can be fun but c'mon, it's riding around playgrounds. Not like real races, which are of course held in abandoned office parks. So unseriously do I take cross that I'm pretty sure the bike I used today saw action at the 95 snow nats in Leicester, underneath the silver medalist. It's ancient and maybe I need to think about something newer...

Anyway, back to the event. The 35+, 45+, and 55+ would all be on the course together, starting a minute apart. I did not even ride yesterday, as I was messing with my car all day and doing domestic type shit. I did not ride Friday either, though I did do a trail run in semi-darkness and not fall, bonus. Today was my third time on the cross bike this season, as I've ridden it twice at the Wednesday night Wrentham training series, on gigantic oversize tires. We do short nine minute "races" there, and I've been quitting after three or four, just to get some intensity without overdoing things. BTW, this is far more than I did last year, when I think Gloucester was my first ride on the cx bike all season (except D2R2, where I rode it in 2009). So maybe I'm serious after all. But I still got there about thirty minutes before my start today. The Cronoman was all focused and shit on his trainer. Everyone else was already kitted up and riding around and I didn't even have a number yet. I got straightened out just in time for open course, and took a lap. Whoever laid the course out did an excellent job. There were a number of subtle niceties, such as a mix of "hard" and "recovery" sections, some tight, slow stuff, some faster turns and transitions onto and off of pavement that would have been treacherous in the wet, and a good overall flow. There were two dismounts per lap, and each was long enough to make it worth your while, and riding optional if you wanted. I opted to run everything. There were two good, long pavement sections, as well as a longish bumpy uphill on grass past the finish where you could power by weaker riders. The tight stuff was tricky without being too awkward, and not too much tape got knocked down. Very good job.

I lined up at the back of the 45+, as I'm treating this like a training race. As such, my plan was to not go out like a house of fire and get mixed up in the traffic jam. Many cx riders feel this is important, and they go 100% on the first two laps and then survive (or attempt to) the rest of the way. That doesn't work in any other form of racing, so I'm not sure why cross should be expected to be that much different. Sure, you lose a shitload of ground in the early bottlenecks if you're at the back, but if you're destined for a below median finish anyway, I don't think it makes much difference, and probably even hurts you to battle hard early on. At any rate, on the start I'm last, and going into the first gentle turn, anticipating the bottleneck, I still end up crashing into the back of Dave "the Mayor" Leeburg (Gearworks) because my brakes don't really work. And I fell. So now I'm not just last, but ten bike lengths off the back. I give chase, getting up to Dave, and in the twisty stuff I can see 55+ leader Paul Curley coming up fast from behind. There were plenty more bottlenecks on the course, so it wasn't balls-out the first lap, and I spent most of it getting heckled and heckling back with other riders, spectators, and even the officials getting in on the act.

At the first paved section I moved up a few spots. On the bumpy uphill past the finish I moved up a few more. I was doing OK in the turns, but not great. This bike is a bit big for me and I lose ground in the tight, slow, pinwheel stuff. Curley caught me and I locked on his wheel to really "go to school." It's not often you see the master out front riding his own race, as he normally follows others, only pouncing when he has to. But he was leading this one going away. I picked up some good lines but eventually he blew through some traffic and I lost him. The other 55+ guys never caught me. I'd passed Jim Mills (Cycle Lodge) during all this, but he came back around me in the tight stuff and ended up riding away. Very good job, and I think he ended up several spots ahead of me. My "fans" (zencycle, etc) still heckled me, but got almost encouraging as I was steadily moving forward. About halfway through I caught up to my mate Timmy, and coming back to the longest paved stretch there was one guy between us, but we were all together. After a little uphill out of a sand run, we hopped off a curb and down the main driveway. Gluing up tight in order to draft a bit and then move right by, the guy between us caught me by surprise, appearing to brake just before dropping off the curb. WTF? and for the second time today I found myself riding right into the back of someone, this time getting my front wheel right into his derailleur. The heavy contact knocked me off my bike, but the impact had slowed me enough that instead of falling I more or less did a spastic one-legged dismount, sort of rolling the entire time. I blew by the guy and got on Timmy but it put me deep in the red.

We had two to go at that point I think, and so I started trying to turn it on. The next group of riders was well ahead, but a gaggle of five or so were breathing down our necks. Not sure if they were 45 or 55, but I think at least two of them were 55+ second and third place. Then coming by the finish the chief scorer John Laupheimer says "Dave you're done." Huh? I had not been passed by the 35+ leader (i.e. overall race leader) yet, so I'm on the lead lap. Everyone ahead of me was still racing. I think Mark M (who won the 35+) may have been close behind me. Only 37 minutes had passed (5 laps for me) so I kept going. Nobody was chasing me from behind anymore. I did not catch anyone else, but I wanted the workout. Crossing the line next time I pleaded my case on the fly, but I have no idea how they scored it. Not that it really matters, as I think I was only ahead of 10-15 guys from the 45+ anyway (out of around 50 starters?). We'll see tomorrow when the results come up.

So there you have it. First race of the cx season under my belt. Checked out lodging for VT next weekend and it's ah, prohibitively expensive. I guess foliage rates already kicked in, as I'm not seeing anything for less that $200. I may have to bag out, or maybe see if someone wants to split the drive up for just one of the two days. I haven't done VT in years either. That's all folks, thanks for reading.

Walpole 10k Race Report

2010-09-07T05:43:00.004-04:00

Road season ended early for me. It ends early for almost everyone now. Sure there was GMSR this weekend and there are a few crits in September still holding out against the encroachment of cyclocross, but I'm capitulating. For the fall season I will race 'cross, maybe not as seriously as some of you guys, but I'll be out there. My plan is to do most of the same races I did last year, maybe double up on a few more weekends, we'll see. And mix in some running races, as the calendar is full of good ones during harvest fair season. Not sure about du's, but if one comes up on a rare open date I'll consider it.

So I've been secretly running twice a week all summer, a first for me. You might remember my last running race was the Derry 16 miler back in January, and that did not end so well. In fact everything from the 8-mile mark onward was a mistake, as I started to experience some serious hip pain, but like an idiot I kept going. That pretty much tanked my winter running, but with rest the problem subsided and on the bike I had no issues, or no hip issues to be more precise. I focused on bike racing all spring, and raced every weekend from April until Memorial Day at the Killington Stage Race. Then I took a break, then started running easy, then working in weeknight time trials beginning in late June, moving to a bunch of crits in July and early August. That all went fairly well, and I either won primes or finished top 10 in every race all summer I think, with a few podiums. So the running did not hurt so much. I did stop running for the week of the Workingmans and then again the week before D2R2. I'm crazy but I'm not stupid.

I've had no issues with my hip thus far. Back in May, I met Patsy at CPTE in Nashua while working at my sponsor Goodale's Bike Shop on super sale day. Patsy had a booth for her business setup in the store and she worked with me a bit when we each had some down time during the day. She really knows her stuff and her diagnosis was that I have some mobility problems in my SI joint and this was leading me to have a right leg that is functionally longer than the left. I've written about this before. Well, this condition has probably existed in me as long as I've been an athlete, but nobody ever explained it to me like this before. I've always known I was severely out of balance laterally, but never knew what to do about it. This summer I've been doing some exercises Patsy recommended and so far they're helping. My hips and back feel "free-er" and I think it's helped my TT positioning as well as my pedaling (both right/left balance as well as better power at high cadences). I can't stress enough how strongly I feel that us old fucks need to devote a considerable portion of our available training time to "structural fitness." It's senseless to bang your head against the wall doing intervals if your training is leaving you hunched and limping. Just sayin'...

Of course I'm not running many miles. Like I said, just twice a week, really short, like 30 minutes at first. The past month I've stretched it out, but nearly all my runs have been in the Blue Hills, with about 50% of the time spent on rugged trails. Some are so steep that it's not even "running" in the traditional sense, as I need to make foot plants wherever I can, thus every stride is a different length. Not as repetitious as running on asphalt, but far more stressful from both hip flexor and cardiovascular standpoints. This is like intervals. I've run up the access road a few times too. Lately I'm up to about an hour, as that just fits in after work when I really don't have enough time for a decent ride at this time of year.

No speedwork or timed runs though, so going in to the Walpole race I had no idea what pace I'd be able to maintain. Last year I also did this as my first race of the fall, with nearly zero run training, and did a 42:50, 6:54 pace on the tough rolling course. So I hoped to do better than that, but that's all I knew. Before the race I stretched a lot, doing the usual dynamic stuff along with some other moves Patsy had showed me to loosen my SI joint, but I warmed up very little. Basically the same things I do for a training run. Lining up with my buddy T-Vo, I had no plans to stay with him as he's been running pretty decent lately. At the start I focused on good form and staying within myself, being conservative. I've had three LT tests in the past two years, one on a treadmill and two on a bike, and I've got a pretty good idea of where my thresholds are by HR. My run pacing used to suck, with fast starts and horrible declines, but I've learned a lot. First mile was 6:38, faster than expected, but my HR was only 140 and I felt good. Second mile goes down and then back up, and I was 6:41, 144, so far so good. Third mile has some downhill, hard to judge. It was 6:34 with my HR hovering right around my OBLA of 150 bpm, and I could push it up or dial it back at will. The fourth mile was tougher, with some little hills and a tight loop around a neighborhood. There is a 5k at this event too, and most runners did that, with only 180 people in the 10k, so I was in no-man's land. The 4th split at 6:49 so I hoped I was not falling apart. But I was still around 150 for an HR and with less than 15 minutes to go I figured I should start ramping it up. The fifth mile goes through the start area backward and then into a big downhill, with longer sight lines where I could see I was catching two guys. That was my fastest split at 6:26. The last mile passes through the center of town but it's almost all uphill. I may have started emptying the tank a little too early because with a half mile to go when I passed the second guy, I was already at 165 bpm, pretty close to max. With three minutes still to run, uphill... So yeah, the last mile was not that much fun, but I pulled it out in 6:31 before dieing significantly in the final .217 for an official time of 41:05.

That may be the most even set of splits I ever put up in a middle distance race. The 6:37 average pace was 17 seconds/mile faster than last year, but still about 25 s/m off the times I was putting up in 2007 and 2008 races. Last year I rallied to run sub-39 at both the Firefighters 10k in Dorchester and the Canton Fall Classic, both in October, and both on my schedule for this year. My goal is to do a bit better in those, with nothing longer than that in the plans at this time. Stop rolling your eyes Jonny, you need to rest up for cross. Thanks for reading.

Bob Furapples

2010-09-05T07:35:00.015-04:00

In the brush with greatness department, Solobreak gets a photo-op at the top of Gonzo Pass with teammate Bob "Furapples" Hatfield, drummer for the legendary Boston punk band the F.U.'s, fresh off his This is Boston Not L.A. reunion gig in Revere.

Just a plain old bike ride Saturday. We originally had four riders lined up, but two bagged out. Hattie had been granted an all-day hall pass from his wife, and wasn't about to let his chance to ride in the mountains for the first time slip by. We headed up and parked in Campton. Our original plan was to loosely follow Dougie's White Mountains west route, but then double back down 112 instead of heading to Franconia. From there we'd climb over into Waterville via Tripoli Road and then back to the car. Looked like around 85 miles.

I rode my Soma, with 28 mm Paselas this time. Bobby doesn't race as much as me, so this would provide a suitable handicap. Plus it has a compact. I think he only had a 39x26 on his Madone. Gonzo Pass proved fun. It was windy on the descent due to the so-called hurricane which had just left town. Going up Route 25 west was straight into it. But we missed the turn for High Street; it had no sign. By the time we were sure of it we just decided to f-it and go the long way around. Bob had 23 mm road tires, and so the Long Pond Road gravel descent might not have been such a great idea anyway. We came out to Route 10, where you ride north along the Connecticut River and can look over into Vermont. The we headed back east on 116. There is not much going on in that area...

The Soma only had to wait for Hattie two minutes or so at the top of Tripoli road.

116 junctions back to 112 and it was basically a long, steady grind, albeit with a nice tailwind. Which also made it quite warm, borderline uncomfortable. 116 veers off left but we stayed the course on 112, hitting Kinsman Notch, which is all brand new asphalt, smooth as it gets. And it's the worst false-flat I've ever ridden on. It's not steep, but it almost appears downhill, an illusion created by the surrounding mountains. I am not going to claim it was fun. But bombing down the other side was a nice bonus, even if it is a pedal downhill. On my tires anyway, I only spun out my 50x11 in a few places.

Mr. Furapples powers over the top of the 7 mile, 1600 foot dirt climb.

After a water stop we hit Tripoli Road. It was nice and cool in there, almost chilly. It took me 38 minutes. Bob was not far behind. Now we're home free. A touch of rain spit on us going through Waterville Village but then it cleared and we were back at the cars in just under 6:00 ride time, 6:24 total. Only about 93 miles with a double back into Woodstock for water on the way back, but 6800 feet of climbing, 1/3 of it on dirt, and 20 mph headwinds on some long stretches, I think it was OK. Check out the map, do you think the route looks like a butterfly, or Krusty the Clown's haircut? I did not have a power meter but my Polar registered 4300 calories (versus 5100 for D2R2 at 9 hours). Based on my lab tests, the Polar numbers are probably at least 10% low. And I got to ride with a legend of punk. We're going to try to get him in more races next year. He's got the power, I just need to instill some manorexia in him and drop a few dress sizes from his cottage of wattage. And as you can see, my new BOB team issue jersey has visually slimming black side panels, so we'll get him into one of those too. Thanks for reading.

Bubble?

2010-09-02T08:51:00.001-04:00

This will be a crappy post. It's been a week, and I have to write something. Unfortunately I don't have time to do this topic justice. Cutting to the chase, I wonder if the cyclocross bubble is about to burst. Like the stock market, the fortunes of a sport cannot rise forever. Look at NASCAR. A few years ago sponsors were fighting to get in, and events were sold out months in advance. Now they can't give tickets away for the big race coming up in New Hampshire. Sure, there are differences between cyclocross and NASCAR and the stock market. Cyclocross has not been heavily marketed or anything like that. But it sure has been growing, rapidly, for a few years now, with no signs of slowing down...

Let's look at history. Remember when mountain bike racing was the big game in town? What happened there? It's still around, but the days of 800 rider fields overflowing the venue parking lots are over, aren't they? Can't happen to cross you say, with the world's coming to Kentucky and all? I wonder. I'm seeing signs of "irrational exuberance" among promoters this year. There are A LOT of events on the calendar. Some are big "festival" events, in far away places, with paid admission. Others are small, first year events with $4000 prize lists. Then there are dozens of events that have existed for years in one form or another. Some got disappointing, or at least lower than historical, turnouts last year, probably due to the glut in events. Certainly there are more riders and rider/days to go around, but are there enough? I tend to doubt it. With a bubble, everything is wonderful and the tide is rising right up until it isn't. In a falling market, some promoters are going to get hurt, and someone is bound to lose their shirt. Don't let it be you. We're out of time. Give reasons why I'm wrong in the comments, please. Thanks for reading.

Photo Post Wednesday

2010-08-25T08:25:00.005-04:00

Nega-Coach visits the S.M.A.R.T. wind tunnel. I've got fans! Two of these 54" monsters to be exact. 80,000 cfm. I'll have more photos from when after the finishing touches were put on the test chamber (not shown).

Close up of the sweet Start/Finish Productions t-shirt being used to conceal Nega-Coach's Adonis-like physique from the public.

D2R2 2010

2010-08-22T17:38:00.006-04:00

Dougie, me, Jonny, Sammy, and Kevin post-ride, pre-shower. Thanks to Buck for snapping this one.

My camera is back in business. Turns out it was my card reader gone bad. But, I repeated the mistake of charging up all my batteries and then installing a pair that doesn't hold a charge into the camera. So no on-the-road pics this year, my fourth time on the "long" or "real" D2R2. This year I drove out Friday and stayed at the Red Roof with about 300 other riders, because I just can't get enough slamming doors and noisy kids. Pike traffic held me up but I still made packet pickup and did a spin around Old Deerfield right at dusk to make sure my cue-sheet scrolling contraption was secure. Cable housing is supposed to be structural, right?

The new bike, laden down with extra tubes, spokes, cue holder and bottles weighed over 28 pounds fully dressed. Did not get a pic while it was still clean and new. Yes, that is white bar tape.

This bike was brand-new, with about an hour of test riding on it. And I had brand-new Bontrager RXL mountain bike shoes to go with my Time ATAC pedals, just in case I had to walk. Starting the longest ride of the year on a newly assembled bike and untested shoes makes perfect sense in my world, because I am a confident mofo and trust my mechanical abilities as well as my knowledge and methods for setting up my fit. So screw the skeptics, as I had zero issues with either, everything worked perfectly beginning to end. And in a move that would make Gewilli proud, I even stepped completely out of character and made my own food for Friday night and Saturday morning. That part went -- OK. B minus maybe. Actually my mozzerela ommelette over couscous with garlic was fine, but my salami and provolone english muffins for the ride did not go down as easily as I'd hoped. More on that later.

Chris had to be the only person in attendance who did both the Leadville 100 and D2R2 in the same week. How often can you do just two rides and get in 20 hours?

Ride arrangements came together last minute for this one, as in at the starting corral. My team mate Whitey had pre-regged, but then he went to the Leadville 100 last weekend, finished, got altitude poisoning, spend the night in the ER, and got sent home with an oxygen tank. As of Wednesday he was still a wreck, and hadn't cobbled a bike together. Then there was Jonny, who had broken his collarbone just two weeks ago, scrapping plans for the ride. Until Friday that is, when he decided he'd be OK. I'd talked with his mate Sammy about navigating for them, and we had all agreed to let the fast guys go ahead, and start at 6:30. Some plan.

Turns out everyone makes it, including Dougie and his recently healed broken ankle, all deciding 6:30 was the new fashionable start time. In the corral were all the Corner Cycle guys, John Mosher (Wheelworks), Chris Peck (Bikereg), John Funk (?), Jay Gump (Incline Training), Kevin Buckley (ECV), Timmy Groesbeck (CCB) and a host of other fast dudes. And us. Allegedly it will be civilized and we roll out...

Clearance was a little tight with the Michelin Jets, but unlike Whitey's bike, no rubbing.

Right away Whitey's bike, which sports only a 39x27 low gear, is rubbing the tire on his chainstay when he stands up to climb. I had a 34x30, primarily to save my legs on the early climbs. The first two hours of this is pretty much all uphill. But we just rolled. A stray cow made a bit of a stampede at us going up one hill, but I could not get a pic. I think Jonny did. There were goats. And sheep. And loose dogs. Typical D2R2 stuff. But the weather was perfect, though some of the roads were pretty loose from the lack of rain.

This year my cue scroller did not explode on the 50 mph downhill. I've got the route down in my head now, just in time for them to change it next year.

On the crazy East Road descent I played it safe. The Soma and it's long-reach Tektro sidepulls was awesome though; one finger braking was such a contrast to last year with sketchy cantilevers, which most guys still had. As usual, some riders got a little crazy and seemed to forget these were open roads and an F350 could be coming at you at 30 mph just around any bend. At least half the group dive-bombed East completely on the left side of the road. Not me. At the bottom we crossed route 2 and began the mutherfucka of a climb up to the food stop in Heath. I'd been chatting a lot and not eating and drinking much. Hmmm. Did great for a while but near the top I went to my easiest gear and everyone passed me. I was the last one in the group to the stop.

Me and Chris rolled out of there first so that we wouldn't have to eat pack dust on grizzly Royer Road, one of the roughest sectors. The group caught us rolling through Heath and Jay Gump took the front and led us on a fast zoom through town and down Taylor Brook. I surfed the front, forgetting how bad I felt on the last climb, still not eating or drinking much, planning to attack the 27% Achambo Road ahead right from the front to avoid walking. This group was too big for everyone to make it clean, I knew that. Jay and Timmy Groesbeck then me made the turn and they swung off, leaving me first. I'd better not F this up and knock everyone off. At the bottom I had some tire slips, as my Jets had 60 psi which was more than ideal for the sand and choppy stuff. No way I could use my easy gear, as that would torque-spin for sure. Jay came up next to me, sitting and spinning, with a road tire on his bike! Damn. I humped it over the most difficult section, then sat and sucked wind to recover. John Funk passed me and he wasn't even breathing hard. That guy is amazing, and nearly as old as me. That is what fitness looks like. Not what I look like.

Achambo did some damage. I had gone pretty deep. We were only a bit more than three hours into this thing. Then we quickly hit Hillman Road, which is a very difficult climb, over a mile long. Someone pushed the pace. The group stayed together though -- except me. My sit down legs were smoked. They rode away. Buck, who had got held up by the carnage on Achambo, came roaring past. Whitey waited for me. I was dead. The group was gone. At the top, I took inventory and realized I'd hardly been drinking, and hadn't touched my gel flask. I'd eaten a sandwich in the morning, and had a few fig newtons at the stops. I think it was a lack of water really. I pounded a half flask of gel and drank an entire bottle between the top of Hillman and the long descent of Christian Hill Road. That was my best chance to recover. Sure enough after bombing the no brakes downhill (one of my favorite parts of this ride), I really rallied on the Franklin Road climb to the state line. Chris was like "WTF dude, where did that come from?" Plain and simple, fuel back in the tank.

We rode with just the two of us and really ripped down Deer Creek. Chris is pretty fast on the difficult descents. The others were still at the lunch stop. I loaded up my pockets with Oreos. I'd eaten my other sandwich on the descent and it had given me a bit of a bad stomach, too many calories in too short a time. I had a coffee to settle it. Chris made some adjustments to his bike, and I made the rounds, greeting friends from all up and down the eastern seaboard. Somewhere along there the group left and we missed them. Might have been a good thing. We climbed out of the hole where lunch is at a fairly sedate pace, then started to motor down Sweet's Pond Road. We got attacked by the dog who attacks us every year up near Brattleboro Road in Leyden, and he nearly knocked me off the bike. Fat fuck can run. After overshooting my back wheel he turned and gave us another sprint. That helped us keep the pace up and we bombed the descent to Green River, made use of the extra water stop and then really turned it up on Green River Road. It seemed to me like we were going fast and I started expecting to beat last year's 9 hour total by a good 15-20 minutes.

We must have slowed down a little from Van Nuys Road all the way to Patten Hill. I thought we were doing OK but we gave up time somewhere. Patten Hill Road sucked, very loose and gravelly. Chris had to fight his gear as it was too big to sit. I had not touched my 30 cog since Heath, trying to use nothing less than the 25 in sympathy, but I went to the 27 on Patten. And of course I had a 34 up front. We got to the stop just in time to see Jonny and company rolling out. After only three minutes we took off, and promptly almost ate shit on Square Lot Road, as it too was a mess, maybe the worst road on the ride. On the ripping descent we passed Mosher, who had flatted (he was running skinnies on a cx bike) and he said he was all set. Must have been as he ran us down and rode through us a few miles later. I think we were fading. We plodded down Hawk's Road, rallied on the final pavement, and voila, we're done, 8:56 total by my watch. By the time we signed the sheet it was 9:00, but I know I beat last year by three minutes. My Polar ran out of memory forty minutes from the end, but it showed 4000 meters of climbing at that point.

The Cronoman and I went for LT/VO2 max testing on Tuesday. The entire ride at D2R2 I had people asking "where's Marro?," "how come Eric isn't here?," "you couldn't get the Cronoman to do this?" D2R2 is not for everybody I guess.

Tired and dirty, but I felt better than I ever have at the end of this. My bike setup must have been perfect as my upper body was totally fine, no aches, no problems, nothing. My legs were just tired. Chris, what can I say, guy is a fucking animal. I was worried about him having issues after what he'd been through the past week. He matched me mile for mile, fighting a rubbing tire and an overgeared bike the entire way. The ride took it's toll on others, as we learned at the finish that both Tyler Munroe and Jim Nash of CCB had broken collarbones. Not sure if it was one incident or two. Did the photos, got cleaned up, and hit the feed and beer, which was Berkshire Preservation Ale custom-brewed for this event. Met up with all kinds of people who'd done the 100k, and had too many beers.

OK, just another boring report. Not boring, routine. I may have been too well prepared for it. This year seemed, well, routine. Not the same sense of adventure I've had here in the past. I guess because I knew exactly what to expect, and prepared for it. Other than not drinking enough in the beginning (I was using plain water and in the morning maybe I don't have the thirst. Next year, something flavored to make me want to drink more), it all went according to plan. Did not walk a single step. If I have the same fitness next year, maybe I'll need to try to ride harder and travel lighter or something. Or maybe they'll change the route. Which is the rumor... Thanks for reading.

Quick and Dirty

2010-08-19T06:42:00.004-04:00

Apologies for the lack of entries here lately. My camera and computers still aren't communicating, but I finally took the initiative to do something about it and ordered a new card reader, as well as a new camera-to-usb cable in case the reader doesn't work. I almost went all out and ordered a new camera, but ultimately didn't pull the trigger. Photo geeks can let me know what you think of this. I'm used to the way Nikons work, and this one is supposed to have very low shutter lag. The 15x zoom is obscene and useless without a tripod, but I like the fact that it's a bit larger and more substantial than many of the smaller pocket cameras. Anyway while shopping I also learned you can get a Helmet Hero Wide now for just $150. Weren't they $300 just last year? What else would I need to buy in order to get decent on-the-bike video?

So back to Fall River. For me this was another "reverse the course" situation. In 2008 (I think) I got second here in the 45+. That race went clockwise around the mile-ish industrial park loop, with a small field, in the broiling heat. Last year they changed the direction, but for some reason I was not in attendance. With the road season about to come to an abrupt end (don't think GMSR is in the cards for me), and having seemingly decent form, missing F.R. this year was not an option. Besides, the race is promoted by my friends at Swansea Velo Club and Bikeworks, who also bring us the Rehoboth TT. Support your local promoters.

And it did not take long for me to lean on them. Seems the closer a race is to home, the more lackadaisical I am at getting there early. With D2R2 looming this Saturday, I had a lot of stuff to do and not much time to do it, and with an 11:50 start for the 45+ race just 30 minutes away, of course I needed to make the most of my Sunday morning by putting the finishing touches on my new bike. I really wish I could post pictures of the Soma Stanyan because it came out looking really sharp. I broke the bank and went with almost all new components, save for a few items that came off the Madone, which I was upgrading with Dura-Ace gear changing stuff. The Soma is black with chrome head tube lugs, very classic and classy looking. Not a lightweight by any means, with the lugged steel fork alone tipping the scale at 900 grams. But the ride is sweet and if I swapped in a carbon fork (which I won't) and put on lightweight clincher wheels it could be brought down to right about 20 pounds even. As it is, with a 12/30 cassette and Michelin Jet CX tires that barely clear the chainstays, it's just over 22. But this wasn't supposed to be about the bike, and I should have pics by Friday night anyway. However, 10:30 am came up quick and my race stuff still wasn't packed, so I threw it together and headed south on 24, getting to the venue just 20 minutes before the scheduled start.

Sound familiar? With no time, I dressed in just a shorts and jersey rather than a skinsuit so that I could pull it over my head and pin up my number on the line. The new team clothes were in and being delivered at the race, but there was no time for that. Brucie met me there and helped me get setup and I raced over to registration, which they said had closed for the 45+. Once again, I grab a friendly face, Gene Garneau who was serving as the SVC promoter, and pleaded for him to get me a number and onto the start list. We go barging in to the scoring tent just as the Cat 4 race is sprinting for the line, winning big points by walking between the officials trying to pick the finish and the pack at precisely the wrong second! They were pissed. Sorry guys, but at least we did not get in the way of the camera.

Gene got me a number (thanks dude!) and I got pinned up with enough spare time to do a quick lap of the course. I thought I'd be bummed with this direction as I liked the little hill before the finish going the other way, but that's because I'd forgotten about the old downhill, which was now a sizeable climb. Probably 300 meters long, and steep enough to gap weak riders, the road was super-wide, making it the perfect launch pad for an attack. If you had the legs. I got to the start and lined up with about 41 other geezers for what would be a 45 minute time race, and off we went on the whistle. Mostly I sat in, as I wasn't warmed up. Got used to the course, which was pretty bumpy in a few spots. The finishing stretch was a false flat with a headwind. I had team mates Jim Breen and Wayne S in the pack. Can't report too much. There were primes, and some aggression at the front of the group, but nothing seemed to be getting away. About halfway race announcer Paul Nixon called out a $25 cash prime, and told us it would be two, back-to-back. I wanted to test my legs, so on the hill I jumped hard, quickly moving away from the pack. But, looking down between my legs I could see a front tire, so someone had covered. To my dismay, when I glanced over the shoulder, it was Charlie Bedard (Sunapee), a feared sprinter.

Not sure if it was one or two places for the prime, I swung over and Charlie came through. We had a decent gap, maybe 50-70 meters. At the top of the hill the course turns left and there were about 300 meters to the line from there. As we approached the turn, a fire truck with lights and siren was coming the other way down the (closed) road leading to the course. Now we all know that races ALWAYS yield to emergency vehicles, and the timing was such that the fire truck was going to beat us to the turn anyway. The pace car slowed, and the driver held out his hand, giving us the "stop" sign, so we shut it down. The truck took the turn toward the finish, and the pace car followed, as of course so did we. Charlie and I just kind of looked at each other, kind of "oh well." Most of the time in this situation, there would be an entire neutral lap and restart. As it was, the chasing pack had sort of neutralized themselves too, and me and Charlie still had 30 meters or so even though we were soft pedaling. And the fire truck hauled ass down the road, with the pace car speeding up and taking off about 100 meters from the sprint line, as if the race was suddenly back on. I think it was just a quick decision by the driver, who may not have had an official in the car.

John Grenier (Fuji) leaped out of the pack and sped by us to sprint for the prime. Solobreak reader Gary Jasdzewski (BRC) went after him. Going by the line I protested to the officials, saying "WTF? the pace car neutralized us!" The situation was pretty strange, but really one of those things that was an unforeseeable incident. So in the end I think they nullified that prime, which John had taken before sitting up and letting us catch him. Gary kept going though, as the second prime (and as it turns out the first) were still on the table. Are you following this? Well, we never saw him again. He pulled out a twenty second lead that he never relinquished, winning the race after staying out there solo for the six or seven remaining laps. Behind, at three or four to go a chase group formed with Leo Devellian (CCB), Dave Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel), Mark Thompson (Sunapee) and Bob Bisson (Mid-State Velo). All the teams with multiple riders were represented, except of course BOB. The group had about 8-10 seconds as the field took two to go, and Sammy Morse (Corner Cycle), riding without team mates, jumped out to try to bridge, with me behind him. I pulled through on the downhill but on the backstretch the blockers from the field came back to us, though the front of the field was now pointy and fragmented. Sammy persisted, but I dropped back a few places. At the turn on to the climb, I went again, way over on the left, getting a good jump and riding away from the field. Just like last week, I found awesome legs precisely when I needed them, closing most of the gap to the break right away.

Turning onto the homestretch and taking the bell for the final lap, I was just about in contact. The field was not far behind, but still I had to sit on the back of the break to recover. Jasdzewski was gone, so we were racing for second. The break was rotating smoothly. By the end of the backstretch, I had moved up the queue but not hit the front yet. I was still pretty gassed, so maybe I should have just waited and made the sprint as short as possible, but since I seemed stronger than the others on the hill the entire race, and because my turn came up just as we hit the base, I simply attacked them. But it did not work. I'd left my turbo on the course the prior lap to close the gap. Once we got to the top, I just went to the back of the line as I had nothing left to sprint with, following them in just ahead of the pack for 6th, which was the last paying spot. Gene also gave me a race T-shirt along with my prize, which was very nice of him. I passed on doing a second race, as I had to get home to test ride the Soma, and also because I had another round of LT/VO2 Max testing scheduled for Tuesday, so I needed to save something. Well, this was neither quick nor dirty, nor particularly interesting for that matter, but keeping this up is my duty, right? Maybe more coming this weekend if I have wifi out in Deerfield. Word is that Jonny Bold is going to ride with his fractured collar bone, what a madman. I have a cranky knee so I'll have my hands full just finishing I think. I've already scoured the maps for the shortcuts. Good luck to my friends competing up at Timberman this weekend, and thanks for reading.

Double Reverse

2010-08-09T21:47:00.023-04:00

Last year the direction of the traditional Concord course was reversed due to installation of a traffic circle at one end of the layout. The old uphill chicane is now a fast downhill. Here the P12 field leans it over. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

I've been getting shit from my readers (all twelve of you) for lack of posting, and not "letting my personality get in" to the rare boring race report posts that I do come up with. Not sure this one is going to help much, but just like training, if you keep turning the cranks eventually something good happens. This past weekend was supposed to be the Mt. A TT, but the organizers were forced to cancel it due to the condition of the dirt road section. While the dirt section provides just one of the unique elements setting Mt A apart from ordinary time trials, the loose gravel and stray rocks this year would have prevented anyone from maintaining speed without a 90% chance of flatting. They made the right choice, and may even think of reconfiguring the event in the coming years to make it more appealing to the large base of participants in the 13 race Maine time trial series. Anyhow, I'd planned a sort of peak for Mt A, or at least arranged my training so that I stood a chance of being fit and fresh for the weekend. With the event canceled, I changed my focus to the Concord Criterium.

This year's edition was the 30th annual. Amazing. Concord holds the distinction of being the only crit that I've ever had my sorry ass pulled from, at least that I remember. Way back when the race was promoted by Mark Hibbard of the ABC club, it rained, and this was before I knew enough to warm up well anyway. The race started, immediately went single file, with me and a bunch of others at the wrong end of the line. Dick Ring called "prime for this group" and we sprinted, then the next thing I know an official is in the road whistling us off. Having never been pulled before, I didn't know what was going on until the guys I was with said "we're done" and rode off the course. I made sure that never happened to me again. Of course these days the officials are kind and gentle and they usually leave lapped riders on the course, but that's a rant for another day...

For 28 years the Concord race went around White Park in a counter-clockwise direction. However, in the past few years the Live Free or Die state has been installing euro-style traffic circles (not big rotaries like here in Mass) to replace high-traffic four-way stop intersections. And the old Concord downhill was one such place. The new traffic furniture made the spot unsuitable for bike racing, just too narrow and awkward to take at speed. Rather than give up on the venue, the new promoters, NHCC reversed the direction of the race course. What was down was now up, and what used to be up is now down. Concord was already among the more technical crits to survive the years, and now the twisty part would be a fast downhill series of tight turns leading to the flat sprint. The old run-in to the finish, which was a fast, wide, gradually downhill boulevard would now be a false flat climb, leading to the traffic circle and islands, which were quite a pinch point.

Normally I'm not one to enter multiple races in one day, but NHCC was only charging $10 for a second race and I wanted to support their event so I pre-regged for the 45+, the 35+, and even the Cat 3 race, which I never intended to do, but just in case I got there late and missed the 45+ or whatever, I made my $10 donation. And in fact I did get there kind of late. Not that it was my fault. Saturday morning I'm laying in bed and thinking about getting up and making coffee and boom, someone crashes their car into a pole and my power goes out. Was over an hour before it got going and that set me back, what can I say. The 45+ was at 11:50 and I got there at 11:25. The start list and numbers had already been turned in! WTF? Almost a half hour before the race. I ran over to the official's stand and found Marka Wise and she totally hooked me up and got me registered, spanking everyone involved in the process. Very VIP. Thanks Marka!

Four mouth breathers head up the road in the 45+ race. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

Three race numbers in hand I literally ran back to my vehicle, pinned up a skinsuit, threw my bike together and headed to the line. So much for a good warmup. We had about 50 riders registered, and I had several team mates: Cronoman, Timmy, Big John, Jim B, Billy C, Mike the Bike, Gregor B. I'd never had a chance to see what the course looked like in this direction. We're doing 20 laps and it's a bit over a mile around. Off we go and the pace is HIGH right away. The pinch point took some getting used to and there's more uphill after that, so you sprint out of it. The downhill (formerly uphill) was a lot wider than I recalled (going up we were always bunchy here) so it really flowed pretty nice. The quick left/right series onto the homestretch was a little tight, but nobody tried anything stupid there. Not to say that some of these guys aren't hacks on a technical course. Let's just say the back was no place to be at this race.

I don't remember a lot of details. There were primes. Riders tried to go. After a few laps I noticed I felt good on the boulevard false flat and when two riders had a nice gap I shot up the side and bridged up to them. It was Adam Sternfeld (RaceMenu-M1) and an OA guy who I think was Ron Bourgoin. After another lap Eric J Carlson (Blue Steel but I'm saying Team BONK cuz I'm a traditionalist) bridged up to us, making a foursome. We had a decent gap. There was a prime sprint but I did not go for it. All four of us were trying but we never got to working very smoothly together. And it was friggin' hard. For sure this was a breakaway course, but this was too early in the race and we did not have a Team Sunapee rider with us either. After three laps they were ringing the prime bell again and all I heard was "two places, one hundred and fifty" so I'm thinking a c-note for first and half-a-yard for second (in Dick Ring parlance). The pack is close and this break obviously wasn't going the distance so when we came back around I sprinted for all I was worth and took it from Bourgoin, which I found strange. He can sprint and I did not think he'd leave $100 on the table that easily. And in fact he didn't, as you'll see in a minute.

Our break got absorbed, and I retreated. Other moves tried to go. The field even split once. There were some issues with the lap cards and we ended up doing 21 laps, not 20, so if you're one of those people who scrutinizes the finish times and average speeds of the various races to see who the real hombres are, don't get too excited by the 35+ being two minutes quicker than the 45+. Near the end of the race it happened again and we were shown 5 to go twice, but they caught it this time and double-flipped to three to go. A break of three or four guys had maybe 10 seconds at that point, and there was a block on, so I made another move on the hill to try to get across. The blockers (foolishly IMHO) came after me, towing the field up to my wheel, which was now halfway across the gap. I'm pulling off and I realize these guys are not coming through. Well, they should have just let me join the break because now I've cashed in my chips and the best thing for me to do is drag the field up to the break so that one of my mates has a chance in the final. And even when I'm too gassed to race for myself, this is one ability I retain, so that's what I did, end of break. At the end it was the usual field sprint melee and I rolled in at the back, hopefully saving something for the 35+ race.

The 35+ break sets up in the transition from the downhill right hairpin to the quick left/right. Photo courtesy of Nick from www.bicykel.com

There was a long break between the two races, because the Pro/1/2 event was stuck in there. Heading over to the prime table to get my $100, the girl says "number 216, you get the jacket" and she hands me a ski parka with VOLVO emblazoned on it. Huh? I guess Fries was announcing "a one hundred and fifty dollar jacket." Proper English is "one-hundred fifty" Rich... And it's a womens' size XL. In the men's race. Well it's a very nice garment, and I think it might fit my niece, so thanks. I hadn't had time to pin up my other numbers before the 45+, so I took a fresh skinsuit and got it all sorted out. I ate a PowerBar and got organized and tried to stay out of the sun. A lot of friends came by and that took up time and the next thing I know it's almost race time and my legs are seizing up from sitting around. I hurriedly headed down to the start to find there were still four laps to go in the Pro-am so I sprinted back to my car and slammed a 2x caffeine blackberry Gu. That was my warmup. The race starts, again with around 50 riders, including a few brave women and a bunch of 45+ refugees at the back of the pack. We roar up the hill and Keith Ford (Sunapee) says "damn that stings" as all of us felt the last race in our legs.

I was determined to just be patient and wait in the field, planning to try an attack within the last five laps. My experience in the 45+ led me to think that even though the course suited breakaways, it would be too hard to stay out there for a long time. I had a bunch of team mates in this race too, most of the guys from the 45+ and then John Dieli, who was underage and fresh. The back of the pack in this race was even worse than the 45+. I'm really starting to think masters races need to be Cat 1-3. This was BAD. So I reluctantly moved up. There was some action up front, but I wasn't close enough to see who/what was going on. There were some primes and I guess our hero Murat won himself a pair of socks.

I was carefully watching the lap cards. At 12 to go, a three rider break had a nice gap, maybe 8 seconds. I could see Dave Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel) and this just looked dangerous to me, even though this was too early. I'd been getting through the corner at the end of the homestretch really well, going around it wide at full speed. This let me take a good run at the field up the false flat. Other riders I'd talked to had said they were suffering here, but for me it was the best part of the course. I made a go but before I cleared the front everyone moved over and I got pinched into the curb. OK, no problem, it's too early anyway. Then the next time around in the same spot I could tell the break was riding away. Train leaving the station as Dick would say. It was time to go, and off I went. Nobody followed. Probably looked like suicide as the gap was out over ten seconds by now, and there was some wind up.

Heart rate graph showing near max effort for four minutes to bridge, then settling in for 10 laps of pain. The sine wave is the elevation plot.

On the hill I easily made it more than halfway. So easily in fact that I had second thoughts about bridging at all, because if it ain't hard then that usually means the break is coming back to you, and the cavalry will be joining you from behind any second. A look over the shoulder proved this theory wrong though, and I persisted. And it really wasn't that easy, as the high spot in my HR graph above shows. Adding insult, I made no more progress on the downhill and flat portion of the loop, dangling five or six seconds back. Fries encouraged me as I came through the finish and back into the climb again. This was do or die; I had to get on by the downhill. Digging in, I made it, barely. The break was focused and I was pretty stealthy about it so I was able to hang back there for a bit before my presence was detected a half lap later. The break contained Kellogg, Bill Yabroudy (NBX-Gansett) and Sven Lohse (Wheelworks). This break was working smooth. But we had nine or ten laps to go. I worked. Hard.

Nobody in this break missed a pull the rest of the way. We were smooth. Sven appeared to be suffering but he did not sit out. After a few laps I was in agony and almost praying to be caught. I thought about pleading that I was cooked from the bridge and asking for a respite, but these guys were all committed so I was too. Our pulls came up in varied spots so some laps one of us would be lucky and get a little recovery and there were other spots were it really sucked but we all shared in it equally. We did not have a Sunapee rider with us, so I knew there would be a chase. None of these guys had big teams either, so it was up to my guys to block, which you can see in Nick's pictures they did.

At four or five to go a guy at the roadside told us "20 seconds." I did not think that was enough. Apparently neither did the others and we all dug in. I don't think there were any primes to mess us up. The next time around the guy said "30." Nice, but we kept digging. I was not thinking about how to win the race. I just wanted this break to go. Two to go and the guy says "36" and Fries tells us "your gap is secure." I'm thinking no f'n way it is, but we did slow a little. Please don't let them smell blood. If we end up back in sight we'll be doomed by the Sunapee train. One to go and I'm on the back of the line at the start/finish and I looked back and saw nobody. Ok, now what? Kellogg and Yabroudy basically live in breakaways and they're in this situation every week. Sven is strong but he appears to be hurting. Yabroudy was not in the 45+ race because he is too young, and he is the strongest guy here, as well as the fastest finisher. I'm thinking I have a chance to beat Dave in a sprint because he is a climber. On the uphill I know if I want to win I have to attack but my calf is cramping and I'm fighting to hang on. If I attack, in all likelihood I'm going to shell myself. It's a long way around. How close is the field? We definitely slowed down this lap. Can't risk cramping up. Sven ends up leading down the backstretch with me second wheel. Into the downhill turns he's pumping his elbow. I don't really want to come through, but I figure it's all downhill and not hard pedaling, so go ahead and take my line. I'm rolling and taking an extra gear. I'm pretty fast in the quick left right so I get it rolling. In the last turn I'm going well but Yabroudy jumps HARD on the inside, with incredible authority. He opens up five bike lengths in what seems like three pedal strokes, Kellogg comes around too, chasing. I'm on top of the gear and I remind myself to get on Kellogg like a laser, staying directly behind him in this wake. Sven is coming up on my left but I find speed and am able to close up on Dave. The line is a long way away and I'm actually putting on a good sprint. Dave must not know I'm coming back and as Yabroudy puts his hands in the air Kellogg might have conceded a bit and I draw even. He jumps again and we do the bike throw and neither of us is sure who got second. We actually got pretty close to Bill, maybe a bike length because he was doing the victory thing.

First time I can remember making it into a bikereg finish photo.

It does not take long for my team mates to appear from behind, as it was down to 15 seconds at the end. I'm just about puking. Murat comes by and tells me he's got beer in his cooler. After a very slow cooldown lap, the Cat 3 race is already starting when we come around, but I'm harboring no thoughts of that. We go to results and I meet up with Dave's brother Tom Kellogg, and he tells me Dave thinks I got it, and Fries confirms this when they announce results. Normally when I get second I feel like I let a win slip away but in this case, against these riders, I was very happy to make the bridge and work hard in an honest, successful break. Congrats to Bill for his win, he was the fastest. The others showed their class too. Me and Murat had a brew and then I did my cooldown ride, which worked out fine.

Here is some of that personality you were asking for.

The next day we had an informal club time trial on the old Plaistow WMSR course. We setup handicaps, and of course mine was zero. Fifteen of us competed, and I won, but my legs were toast from Saturday. Then we rode at 15 mph up to Exeter for coffee at Me and Ollie's before riding back at what was supposed to be an even slower pace. Someone, and you know who you are, violated our slowness pact, and he will pay in the future. Then we hit Duano's for a pool party. There may have been a 40 of Colt 45, thanks Armand. Great team. Last but not least, sorry to hear about Jonny Bold's injury at nationals. Heal up Jonny. Thanks for reading.

Brought to you by Colt 45 and Billy Dee Williams.

I could get used to this

2010-08-04T20:41:00.002-04:00

This is where the picture of me riding with no helmet would go if I had taken a picture.

Yesterday I packed up all my shit into the car before work, just in case I got a chance to leave early enough to hit my team's Tuesday night worlds, or maybe go to Wompatuck. In the interest of traveling light, I haven't been bothering with my race bag too often, because really, the way this summer has gone, am I ever going to need knee warmers? No. So I just throw the bare essentials into a reusable shopping bag and away I go. Lately I've been training on tubulars, because I have an old pair of GP4s with Tufos that I glued up for Battenkill back in 2006. I used them there three times, and at the Mt A TT (canceled this year BTW), and at some other races, but they aren't that light or that fast, so I don't race on them too often. Still, they've got some miles on them, but they're fine, so I may as well use them sometime. I've put together a separate set of seat bag goodies to take along when I ride them, with Pitstop instead of a tube, and of course I carry a spare. I made sure I had that.

I got involved in some real work later in the day, so first the TNW, and then Wompatuck became a pipe dream. Due to unpredictable traffic, 3:30 is the cutoff for the former, and 4:45 for the latter, if I want to warm up at all. No big deal, as I expected to be tired anyway. Around 6:15 I finished up and headed out to the parking garage. There was nobody around so I just got dressed next to my car rather than walk back in to the locker room. I got my bike ready, got kitted up, checked my bottles, and hmmmmm, what's wrong with this picture? No helmet. No gloves and no glasses either, as I usually place those in with the lid. Fuck. Really nice out, and I'm sort of jazzed to ride. It's already late-ish, and if I drive home it will be after 7 before I get rolling. What to do?

In the past 25 years, I think I've ridden without a helmet once, not counting when I'm adjusting my bike out in front of the house, or occasionally taking it off for a broiling hot MTB climb in a California canyon. At 115 degrees F, I've always felt the heat was more of a danger than falling over at 3 mph. The only time I can remember going sans headpiece for an entire ride was one time in the winter when I had just my helmet liner on for warmth, and never noticed the missing helmet until I was too far from home to bother turning back.

The helmet thing is purely a habit and something we're accustomed to. We don't really need them. Sure, I've broken three or four of them in crashes, but I also survived my entire childhood of riding without one, and that includes ramp jumps, wobbly wheeled homemade choppers with extension forks made from electrical conduit, construction site bmx, and all sorts of other two-wheeled hell raising. Car crashes are dangerous as shit, but nobody wears a helmet when driving. Even when I got my first bike as an adult, I rode for two years before buying one. But then I started racing. The "hardshell rule" was very new then. Most of the old-timers only wore them when racing. I was an oddity wearing my two pound Bell Windjammer on the Wednesday night training rides from the Blue Hill Hojos. But once I got it, I always wore it, figuring it you have to race in it, you may as well get used to the heat, and just wearing it in general.

In my second licensed race ever, at Brodie Mountain, aka Jiminy Peak, I crossed wheels with someone on Rt 7 and tumbled into a ditch, hitting my head and briefly losing consciousness. A few years later I had a close encounter with a tree at one of the Plymouth Cyclocross death pits, flat spotting the front of my crash hat. Another time at the Quabbin race, my solo breakaway got swept up by the sprint less than 100 meters from the line, and some clown sprinting for 25th cleaned my front wheel out from under me. I got burned to a crisp sliding on the hot pavement, but there wasn't much more left of my helmet but the straps after the initial impact with the ground. So I've always worn the things. Which is what made Tuesday night so weird.

I never ride without gloves either. And I usually have some sort of glasses too, at least at the start of a ride. But I was going to ride no matter what. And it was awesome. As luck would have it, I did remember to pack a Vermarc cycling cap, so I was rockin' the barehead in style. The first half mile felt strange, naked, but after that it was like where have you been all my life? You really can hear more. I felt -- younger is the best way to describe it. Lighter even. In just one ride, the whole thing made sense. Even though my legs were shit, I felt great on the bike. Yes, a bit more vulnerable, but great, and in control. Funny thing too, I headed over to Big Blue for some repeats, and some other guy there who I did not recognize was riding up and down on a brand new Cervelo R3 with Zipp carbon wheels -- and no helmet. Wasn't too talkative though. The first time going down I checked my speed, but by the third time I probably went down as fast as I ever have. Or at least it felt like it.

Having been to paradise, now what? I guess you don't miss what you never had. Poor kids today, their helicopter parents won't let them ride around the block without a helmet, if they let them ride a bike a all. And they'll never know the thrill of piling fifteen kids into the back of a pickup truck to bomb down "roller coaster road" to get an ice cream. Safety at all costs. Society changes. And so do I. Now tonight, I didn't want to wear my helmet. But I did. I spun over and rode around the neighborhood that I grew up in, in front of my old house, on the street where I first learned to ride a bike, with no helmet. It only sucked a little. Thanks for reading.

The Final Installment

2010-08-02T08:17:00.006-04:00

Don't worry, the blog isn't going anywhere yet. I'm writing about my last endurance training ride for D2R2, which is just three short weeks away. The timing of this post neatly coincides with the expected flurry of race reports from the Wilderness 101, which one would think has to be harder than D2R2. What's puzzling is why D2R2 finish times are actually longer, seeing as the W101 goes over trails, not roads? I guess it's because a) D2R2 is not a race, b) the field may not be as deep, c) you have to stop at stop signs and stuff, as well as navigate the unmarked course, and d) we stay longer at the food stops. And possibly e) D2R2 is really fucking hilly.

At any rate, I've done this thing three times now, so 2010 will be my fourth effort. As such, I get a lot of questions from the curious about how to prepare. When people hear stories of 8, 9, 10, 11 hour finish times, they tend to get scared off, or be skeptical, or just bewildered. I'm here to tell you that D2R2 (the real D2R2, not the short 100k version) is nothing to be afraid of -- if you're prepared. My proven formula for getting ready is to 1) choose appropriate gearing. The course is 75% dirt roads, and 40% uphill. On a skinny-tired bike, you will need to do three to four hours of climbing while seated. You probably don't want to do this at 60 rpm. So do the math. 115 miles divided by 8.5 hours riding time equals 13.5 mph average moving speed. Figure on most of the uphills you'll be going about half that. 7 mph in a 39x27 is about 60 rpm... 2) Pace yourself. That's all. Finally, and most important, 3) do some long rides. Eight to ten hours on the bike is a long time. I'm pretty sure enough to make you quite miserable if you're only accustomed to three or four hours at a stretch. The main advice I give all D2R2 wannabees is to make sure they've gone out six hours+ at least a few times during the year. The first time I did D2R2 I think I had one six hour ride prior, and finishing in 10+ was a challenge. The next time I had an eightish hour Six Gaps ride as well as some others behind me, and it was not as bad. Last year I did a bunch of long stuff and I finished feeling good enough to sign up again this year.

Which brings me to this weekend. So far I have been out over six hours four times this season, all of them just barely, and all but one not very hilly. Two of them were a month ago, so at least they were in the heat. The next two weeks I'm busy with some racing, so this past weekend was my last chance to get out for a long one. I know this may sound funny to all the D3 guys who do weeks of six hour days in the spring, and the iron-distance multisporters and their 25 hour weeks. What can I say. It's a lot for me. Most of my riding career I lived by the philosophy that your longest training rides needn't exceed the duration of your longest race. As a lifer Cat 3, that meant around three hours, unless you were training for the district road race -- which used to be 1/2/3 and was always over 100 miles. I only finished it once. And, unlike Colin "Yellow Chamois" Rooter, when I needed to answer nature's call at the 80 mile mark, I stopped at the side of Rt 9 to irrigate the bushes, just like the pros. However, my chase back proved more difficult than they make it look like on TV. I may have even had to hang on to a passing vehicle that was stuck behind the race on a climb. But I got back on and finished...

Enough of that. Wanting seven hours of saddle time, and with no races of interest Saturday, I devised a plan. By this time of year I'm getting pretty bored with the local scenery. Doug's ride in Stowe sounded perfect, except that it was in Stowe, and driving four hours just seemed nuts. Besides, I'd already made plans by the time I heard about that one. Instead, I arranged for two of my teammates, Billy and Hattie, as well as expatriate BOB Zencycle to meet me at the wind tunnel in Plaistow for a ride up to preview the course for the Mt Agamenticus time trial in South Berwick, ME. Knowing what to expect if I propose a seven hour day ("Have a good ride Dave"), I let everyone know that this was only about 45 miles each way, so we should easily be done in around five hours.

We left at 800 and the weather was perfect. The route was simple: straight up Route 108. Nobody in our group seemed to know what to expect once we got past Exeter, but it did not turn out too bad. The last five miles or so of Exeter itself kinda sucked with commerce and traffic lights, but the rest of the route was only moderately trafficked, relatively flat, and with a decent shoulder on most of it. We went through Newington, Durham, and Dover before crossing the river into Maine, where the TT route starts right away. The paved part was great, some of it brand new. Then we hit the dirt section. Right away I was concerned by the amount of loose gravel. Billy and Zen were flying and I'm thinking "they must be nuts, we're all on clinchers, someone will flat" and sure enough Billy does. We fix it and continue on, the road gets better, but still worse than in years past. At the top of Mount A Billy flats again. Turns out his sidewall is all ripped from the first flat. He boots it with dollar bills and another new tube, and luckily this is fine for the rest of the day.

Riding back we went a lot harder. Not crazy, just some good long threshold sections. Zen was taking some strong pulls, and I had good legs. Billy mixed it up with us on the hills and town lines. Hattie wisely conserved his energy as he doesn't race as much as us. Back in Exeter we took Route 85 this time, which was much better than 108, so if you try this route then go that way. No lights. At the end we cut through some big town park and it took us right back to 108 and the crit course. Maybe 10 miles from Plaistow we popped Hattie and figured he knew the way and would probably be happier riding on his own the rest of the way rather than fighting to hold our wheels. Zen peeled off to head home from Newton NH, and me and Billy rode back to the cars. Almost there, I asked him what he had for mileage and he said 93. We were right at five hours. I was pretty tired and satisfied that I'd done enough. But...

Back in the planning stages, thinking I'd needed seven hours, I'd told wind tunnel proprietor Armand, who could not make the full ride, that if he were kitted up and ready to go when we got back, I'd head out for another two hours with him. Knowing he's a busy guy, I'd been thinking all morning there was no way he'd want to do it. Well, we arrive back there and his bike is outside all ready to go, and he's got his shorts on and I'm like oh fuck. Billy just laughed at me. Armand has been getting fitter and fitter and I wasn't about to pussy out so I pilfered some gummy bears from his SUV, filled my bottles and off we went. Nothing like riding against a fresh guy when you've already got five hours in. He was killing me.

After twenty minutes of clinging to his wheel the gummy bears kicked in. Our route took us north and west up through Hampstead. I get confused up there but I know at the halfway point we were on the Boston Prep 16 course, at the top of Warner Hill. By now I somehow had found some legs and we were cruising. At (my) six hour mark he asked if I wanted 20 more minutes or 45 and I said yeah 45, so we turned right on 111 and did a TTT for a few miles on the wide shoulder of the open highway. Eventually we looped back south through Salem and then he was absolutely killing me on one stretch but I clung to his wheel. Near the end we even dipped down over the edge of the Mass border, making this my first ever three-state ride. By then the gummy bears were wearing off but thankfully we were almost back. I died as soon as I knew where I was, limping into the lot with exactly 7:00 ride time, 8:00 outside for the day, around 127 miles. Since the 8:59 et for my D2R2 last year included stops, I think I'm ready. Sorry this was boring as all shit, nothing like a lengthy narrative of a simple training ride, but it's the simple and boring shit that makes a foundation. Thanks for reading.

Workingmans Stage Race - Points Race

2010-08-01T06:44:00.003-04:00

Solo recovers at the back of the field.

Eighty laps on a 1/4 mile bumpy, banked car racing track, with a sprint for points every five laps, 5-3-2-1, double points at halfway and the final sprint. Most points is the winner. 20 point bonus for lapping the field. Simple right? Traditionally we masters, who go last of all the categories, would start at around 9:30 pm and thus race under the lights, making things more interesting. This year, the track is not in regular operation, and there are no lights, so we kept the program moving and raced in the twilight. Not as much fun to me, but it may have made for closer racing.

Going into this stage I was tied with Charlie Bedard (Sunapee) for 6th or 7th on GC points (not to be confused with points race points). I guess it was tied for 6th, with tiebreaker rules pushing me down to seventh as Charlie had a 2nd on one stage and my best was a 3rd. Since he had the entire Sunapee squad at his disposal, and is a talented sprinter to begin with, he was one guy I was conceding to and not going to worry about. Instead, as I had the night before, I put my goons on the strong individuals who had no teammates: Soups (TT1), Bill Shattuck (Corner Cycle), Ron Bourgoin (OA) and John Grenier (Fuji). To me this was just pragmatic strategy. Paul Richard (CCB) and Charlie were going to do well and score points no matter what my team did. For me, the best case was if Paul won as many as possible, thereby lowering the threshold for how many points I'd need to finish ahead of some of the others.

Normally in this race, I hang back in the early going, letting the top GC guys wear out their teams in the first-half sprints. Late in the race I try to strike with a big move off the front, sweeping up some points and maybe getting into a break that laps the field, which is something I've done twice in the past. But the daylight changed a lot of things. And somehow, I went for points in just the second sprint, at 70 laps to go, and took 2nd, putting myself on the board early.

From there it got rough. Sunapee was aggressive of course, throwing riders up the road and on the front all night. Soups rode like he had a motor in his seat tube, sweeping up several firsts in the early going. A lot of other riders attacked. My team did what they could to mark my rivals and try to take points away if they got close to the front on a bell lap. Then before the halfway I got off the front and took a 1st, but then Jim Nash (CCB) got up to my wheel. He was not interested in working, instead protecting his leader Paul Richard. One of the other keys to doing well in this race is to not waste your efforts. Being a non-sprinter, I have to go three or four laps before a sprint, building and holding a gap, essentially "winning" from a break. Not the easiest thing to recover from, so if you're going to do it, you want to score points. Well, I thought Jim should and would work with me. I really wasn't a threat to Paul, as he had GC sewed up anyway (he only had to finish 8th or so on the stage to win). Plus it was unlikely that I would beat him on the stage. Me getting the points was certainly preferable for CCB over Charlie and Sunapee getting them. I pleaded with him, but he had none of it, and would not come around. If I'd stayed focused and just pulled, he would have come around me and taken first, but I still would have got 6 for second as it was doubles. But with our dicking around we got swarmed in the last turn before the sprint. Richard took it. Me, all that work for nothing.

Solo follows Soups but this effort was for naught.

This would happen again later when me and Soups spent four laps off the front busting hump only to get caught by Sunapee and get another goosegg. As a matter of fact, their overall strongman Bruce Diehl, who was the big loser Wednesday night, dropping from 2nd on GC to 10th, pulled off a textbook copy of my usual m.o., rising from the ashes in the second half of the points race to sweep up big points in sprint after sprint, eventually finishing 3rd on the stage, pulling himself back to 4th on GC. I managed to get away again later, this time with Craig Harrison, also a Sunapee. At least I wouldn't have eight guys and a woman chasing me if I was with him. I had to let him take 1st at the ten-to-go, but then we kept going and he worked with me. We stayed clear, but on the bell for the next sprint the field was right on our heals, with one guy actually bridging up. This was the five to go sprint, and I knew this was it for me, so I fought to the death all the way. Shooting up through a hole on the very inside of turn four as the field fanned out around me, I thought I got it. Dick Ring was announcing and he said I did too. But the photo showed otherwise, in fact I was 3rd across, with Charlie and a CycleLodge guy nipping me at the line by a tire.

Totally gassed, I had all I could do to hang on to the field for the closing five laps, so I did not do anything in the double points final. In the end I was 8th on the stage, and this was enough to keep me in 6th for the final GC, the last paying spot. Not quite what I wanted, but with a 3rd in the TT, the results were reasonably satisfying. If I'd managed to stay up a few spots better in the circuit race and have better legs on the track (I was really shit on Thursday) then I know I could have been in the running for the overall podium. But that's racing and it was fun, and I think the team rode well and had fun too. The Cronoman brought me a forty of Schiltz and it was ice cold, and that was awesome, brown bagging in the parking lot under the fireworks one of the other teams brought.

WMSR 2010 in the books. Thanks to all the other New England competitors for entering and supporting our event. Next year will be the 25th anniversary, so don't miss that. Thanks for reading.

Workingmans Stage Race - The Circuit Race

2010-07-28T10:48:00.003-04:00

This will be quick because there isn't much to write about. Stage 2 for the 40+ consisted of five laps around an 8-mile circuit. Most of the course is the same as the TT, except we go further down Kimball Road into NH. Lone Goose Road then makes a rural path back to the teeming metropolis of South Hampton, which sits at the top of a decent rise. Then the route plunges back down, at high speed into a tight left hand 135 degree turn where we rejoin the TT loop at the bottom of the "big" climb. Each lap a KOM sprint was on offer at the end of the false flat, just before the road plummets down into Amesbury. The sprint line this year was about 500 meters past the school, so basically a flat sprint preceded by a very slight rise.

All eyes were on team Sunapee to control the race, as they had ten riders. With Bruce Diehl in second, they were also in a position where they needed to attack. Race leader Paul Richard (CCB) has a sprint to match anyone else in the race, so the best way to beat him was probably to get up the road without him. CCB was missing strongman Tyler Munroe on Wednesday, but even with their limited numbers, all of them were strong enough to put up a fight. I had four team mates myself, and we decided to watch the strong individuals like Ron Bourgoin (OA), Bill Shattuck (Corner Cycle), and Mark Suprenant (Team Type 1), all of whom were big threats, especially if they got in a break with someone from Sunapee.

But none of that happened. I struggled the first two times up the hill, and a few alarm bells sounded, but nothing got up the road all night. The strong guys basically neutralized each other. People sprinted for the KOM, but I'm not sure who got it, and each time we regrouped. On the third lap we went pretty slow and I guess the Cat 4 field nearly caught us. They didn't, and the fourth and fifth laps were more animated, but still grouppo compacto. The last time into South Hampton the Cronoman made the world's briefest attack, sprinting off the front for just long enough for Diehl to join him before getting swarmed. Bruce persisted into the dowhhill before getting absorbed himself. I must roll down hill well, as just coasting and staying off the brakes I ended up leading through the hairpin, with Richard on my wheel, and I think he was unhappy with the way I sat up coming out of it. But I did not want to gas myself leading into the hill.

At the bottom and onto Friend Street, with 1.5k to go, the field mushroomed so I alerted my team mate John Diehli to light it up and keep me from getting swarmed. He did a great job, but it was a long f'n way to go and it was too much to ask him to hold it that far. Somehow I managed to get between Paul Richard and his leadout man Leo Devellian, who Paul instructed to move over and not jump yet. After a few tense seconds I got stuck on the front when we still had 600 meters to go, too early. I tried to go just fast enough to keep from getting swarmed badly, but not gas myself. Luckily my other teammate Chris White by now had un-boxed himself from the group and he came to the front, drilling it. I got on the train and at 300 meters Devellian and Richard came by us, and miraculously there was space on Paul's wheel, and I jumped in the gap. If I had any speed this would have been my ticket to the promised land. However, lacking sprinter's instincts, I did not go hard enough to fully close the gap, and maybe I was fading anyway from too much time on the front. As the line came into view, I was still in the top four and on top of the gear as Devellian swung off and Paul opened up his sprint. The other sprinters were closing on both sides of me and I simply was not fast enough as riders inched by me on both sides, all the way to the line. I ended up crossing in 10th, behind Richard and all the sprinters: Charlie Bedard (Sunapee), John Grenier (Fuji), Chris Naimee (Sunapee), Tim Dodd (NEBC) as well as ALL my marked rivals: Bourgoin, Soups, and Shattuck, plus Geoff McIntosh (NHCC) for good measure.

This stage has never been my friend, but at least the thunderstorms which blanketed the areas nearby managed to miss Amesbury. The result bumped me down from 3rd to a tie for 7th on GC. Richard now had a lock on the overall, but the rest of us were still very tight on points so second place would be very much up for grabs going into the final points race night. But Sunapee still had nine guys and one woman for that too... Thanks for reading.

Workingmans Stage Race - TT

2010-07-26T06:20:00.006-04:00

What's a race report without pictures? I've been waiting for more to show up, but instead had to go with this one, especially for MoveitFred.

When all else fails, write a race report. When we left off, the 24th Annual Workingmans Stage Race was already underway. My team puts on this event, a unique mid-week, evening stage race with GC scored on points, not time. This year we had categories for 40+, 2/3, 4, and 5 and 145 racers braved the summer traffic and threatening thunderstorms (which never materialized) for three nights of fierce racing and very little sleep. I was lucky enough to be one of them.

As you might imagine, putting on a 3-night race is a lot of work. Our race crosses the state border, with the TT and circuit race stages taking place in Amesbury MA and South Hampton, NH, which means twice as many meetings with municipal authorities to work out all the details of road use. Then the third stage is on private property, the All-Star Speedway in Epping NH. More on that later. Since I live 65 miles south of the rest of my team (who are mostly local to the race), both racing and helping out require a lot of driving. Getting in the prep for competing in the race while fulfilling my club duties to help make the event happen, as well as not getting fired from the day job, took more than a touch of creativity on my part, which is one reason why you haven't been getting a lot of blogging out of me lately. But I can still spin a run-on sentence.

And we pulled it off. Race Director Armand and his partner-in-crime for this race Duano did not sleep too much the past few weeks, but everything got done. TT night the weather was fantastic, 90 degrees and no wind. The course was perfect and well marshaled. My start time was 7:06 PM, so this year, daylight, bonus. The course is a 6.6 mile loop beginning with a very fast, straight, slightly downhill opening stretch of just under two miles. This is followed by the "Euro section" with a few tight turns, narrow country roads, and two big rollers. You bomb down off the last one at 55 kph, across a bridge into a high speed turn leading to the main obstacle, a sizable hill and subsequent bumpy false flat totaling around a kilometer in length. Then it's a 70 kph plunge down into the thickly settled village of Amesbury, a 90 degree turn on wide roads, and a final 1.5k push on flat road back to the finish. Unlike some boring, featureless TTs, this one requires a rider to possess strong TT skills, but also be able to handle the bike, climb a bit, and make anaerobic bursts at several points on the course. And it is relatively short, in other words, perfect for me.

This year, I've been on my TT bike a lot. Besides the two "real" TTs at Freeport Maine and the KSR, I've been to Rehoboth four times, all on my TT bike. I've got my setup dialed pretty well. As for training, after my break in early June, I did a big three week block of volume, around 16 hours/week, taking me through the 4th of July holiday. Since then I'd more or less been tapering, just doing TTs, the Attleboro crit, and my team's Tuesday night worlds training ride. The week prior to WMSR it was that on Tuesday, Rehoboth on Thursday, and then a local TT in Sharon on Saturday morning just for good measure. That's a longer one, around 12 miles, so rather than ride it like a TT I did 2x5 minutes at of extra-hard pace, and the rest a bit below what I normally time-trial at. The idea was to sharpen up a bit. Just three days before the race, this was a bit risky, especially coming on top of the hard works outs I'd already done the prior Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday. Sunday and Monday I was feeling it too. Getting prepped for a 15 minute TT is always going to involve training on a fine line between freshness and sharpness.

Race day I worked a half day and then headed up in the early afternoon, working some last minute (and I mean last minute) details of the production with Armand before bolting to the venue to greet the angry mob waiting to register (yes, we were late). Actually the racers were all very cool, race packets got distributed, and everyone was polite and super-attentive at the rider's meeting. Faith in humankind restored. Around 600 PM and I was just setting up my bike on the trainer, so the warmup would be rushed. Hopping on, after about three pedals strokes POOFFFFFFF! and my rear tire goes down. Sweet. I'm using a disc cover on my power tap wheel, with a lightweight Veloflex clincher and latex tube. Springing into action, things are disassembled and there's no glass in the tire, in fact there's a weird looking hole that appears to be melted in the tube, on the inside, like it was some kind of defect. I hastily install a butyl tube, get it inflated, and re-fasten the disc cover for what will now be an abbreviated warm up. But at least my legs seem OK and after less than 15 minutes I finish up and roll around the lot for a final gear check before heading to the queue.

We do 30 second start intervals. The guy ahead of me does not have aero bars. There are 38 riders registered in the 40+, 37 men and one woman, Danielle Ruane (Sunapee) whose husband Patrick raced (and won the overall in, chock one up for old man power) the 2/3 instead, because we geezers his own age do not provide sufficient competition for him. At go time, I rolled off and settled in. I was targeting 340 watts average for this race. Starting off too hard is deadly, as the beginning is the fastest and easiest part. Flying down Lion's Gate Road, which is slightly downhill, I was going well over 50 kph in my 53x13 and seeing high 300s every time I glanced down. Feeling fine, I still recognized that was too hard, and I tried to pace. But last fall in my winning TT ride at Bob Beal, I averaged 367 for 9 minutes, and this was only 15, so should I push it?

Staying focused, I downshifted for the rise onto Kimball Road, keeping my cadence in the high 90s and trying to hold my aero-helmeted head level and keep my shoulders hunched Zabriskie style. The tight turn onto Newton Road gives some competitors trouble, but I know enough to take a little recovery and set up for a fast exit rather than dive bomb in too hot. There's some false flat there and I reeled in and passed my 30 second man before the 90 degree left. I consider this section of the course key, as it goes uphill for almost a kilometer before plunging down at high speed into a steep and difficult roller. You have to meter out your energy and speed precisely to maximize the length of the speedy portion and build momentum for the roller. I nailed it, and knew I was having a good ride, so I started pushing more. I took the turns a bit conservatively, as you never know exactly where the cops will be standing in the road, or where they might stop traffic in the oncoming lane, so wide exits are not a good idea.

Into the hill, the race is more than half over and it's showtime. The steeper part at the bottom is pretty short, only 200 meters or so, with a longer false flat coming after. I attacked it out of the saddle in a 53x19, perhaps a bit too soon. I was getting gassed but had to keep humping until it crested out a little before sitting back down, taking the 21, and trying to build a spin over the bumpy false flat. Two riders were just ahead of me, my 1:00 just passing my 1:30 man, who I passed myself before starting the descent. I was dieing at that point, but the downhill is pretty long and it's not do or die, it's just die no matter what and recover when you're spun out. My work of the past weeks may have paid off as I did recover and as soon as the downhill leveled into the long pedaling section I blew by my 1:00 man. Blessed with a clear road, I motored all the way down into the 90 degree turn onto Friend Street, coasting for an extra second to pull myself together for the final push. After a nice apex and a smooth exit, quickly getting on top of the gear, 44 kph showed on my speedo and things looked pretty good. But it's a loooonnnnngggg way to the end when you're this smoked, and of course I faded, having used up everything to get this far this fast. Into the cones and around the corner and up the school driveway, I gave it everything I could find in a final out of the saddle burst, crossing in 15:09.

The start and finish locations on the course have been tweaked a few times over the years, but in 2009 it was the exact same as this year (and we hope to keep it that way). I was sick last year, riding a disappointing 15:52, good for only 12th. Encouraged by my improvement, yet still disappointed as I felt going in that it would take a sub-15 to win and don one of the snazzy pink S.M.A.R.T. wind tunnel leader's jerseys. And I was correct, my time was good for only 3rd in the 40+. Paul Richard (CCB) surprised me with a race winning 14:56. Paul is fast but I'd pegged Bruce Diehl (Sunapee) and Mainer Ron Bourgoin (OA/Cyclemania) as co-favorites. Both had trounced me at Freeport and Killington. Bruce took second with a 15:00, with Ron 4th, just a half second behind my time. Mark Suprenant (Team Type 1) has also been beating me this year, and he was 5th just a few more seconds back. Other notables include my team mate the Cronoman who took 10th with a 15:58, and of course Danielle who girled more than half the field with a 15th place finish of 16:14 (24.4 mph, and this is not a particularly fast course).

I'm pretty happy, though I really wanted to win. With Patrick in the 2/3, that made things look easier (he rode a 14:59). Paul and I are usually very close. Diehl and Bourgoin have owned me this year, but I'd beaten them in the past, so I had hope. But my ride was still a highlight of my season. I may have left a few seconds on the table by misjudging the hill, but so many other things went right that I shouldn't second guess. I averaged 343 watts without zeros, 332 with (there are five points of coasting on this course), nearly hitting my target. Cadence was 97 rpm, speed 26.2 mph. That's it for now, thanks for reading. Hopefully I'll get some pictures to go with the rest of the story.

Two Weeks Vacation

2010-07-21T09:12:00.004-04:00

From blogging. But now I really owe you something. And I'm afraid I can't pay up right now. We're in the middle of my team's 24th annual production of the Workingman's Stage Race, the only mid-week nighttime stage race in the world. Or at least in my world. And that is correct, the twenty-fourth freaking annual edition of this unique event. That makes us the longest running stage race in New England (yes Fitchburg is 51 years old, but it was a one day crit for the first 40 or so years) and one of the longest running bike races, period. And let me tell you, it's been a challenge, which is just one of the reasons there has been no blog here for the past few weeks. I'm not even a major player in the production either, but it's still taken up quite a bit of time.

I have a bunch of pictures from the wind tunnel but my camera card and my computers are not talking to each other for some reason, and I lost the camera cable. I suspect my card reader might be f'd but I don't know. Anyway, no pictures for you, but the tunnel is up and running and open for business. Story to follow.

In other news, Rooter the Roadie gave me some shit for not writing up a race report on the Attleboro Criterium. Sorry dude. The short version is I did the 45+, raced very aggressively, which was good, but got swarmed in the sprint when my breakaway got caught at 200m to go, finishing 9th and out of the money, which was not good, but not that bad. I lifted a few pictures off the web, but posting them is kind of a moral dilemma as I respect the artist copyright and all, even though I think his preferred business model is dumb. You can find them here.

The Rehoboth TT has been going on, and I've been doing well down there. Conditions have been great and times have been fast, but turnout has been disappointing with only around a dozen riders each week. I'll miss this week due to Workingmans, but it runs for at least one more week, so think about it.

The biggest news of the month has to be the return of MoveitFred. If he keeps it up for 30 days or more, I'll put a link back in the sidebar.

Now I'm off to Workingmans. The TT went pretty well for me, 3rd in the masters, although Patrick Ruane was also faster but he opted to race with the younger, faster, tougher, better-looking dudes in the 2/3 race. His wife Danielle is with us in the masters race though, as we had no women, and she kicked some serious ass, including a few of my teammates, finishing 15th against 37 men. Bravo. A little Team Sunapee ass-kissing here, as I know they read and there are 10 of them in the race tonight, so go easy on me guys. I met a solobreak reader last night too, Andy from Hampton, thanks for saying hello. It's always good for my mates to see that I'm the one with the fans. Internet! Ryan also raced, narrowly besting my "old man power" time in the TT. Tonight the circuit race, so let's hope no thunderstorms. Anyone with time on their hands (and maybe a motorcycle) is welcome to come up and help out as a marshal, pace car driver, or moto escort. Cashman School, Amesbury MA, be there by 5 if you can. Directions on the flyer linked above. Thanks for reading, will try to be better about creating meaningful content and pictures, but I'm just one simple man!

I changed my mind

2010-07-07T07:45:00.002-04:00

Because the alternative was for it to stay the same. For some reason this expression has been tagged with a negative association, but shouldn't it be a good thing? At least it can be. The same could be said for being unyielding and stubborn, I guess. Anyway, about what? Nothing in particular, and a lot of things in general. One example would be boredom. Normally I don't like to believe in boredom. To me it means you need to be entertained, and are too lazy (or something) to focus inwards and do some thinking without external stimuli (science word, call Daria). But I must admit at this time of year I start to get "bored" with my usual training routes. It didn't used to happen, and I'm realizing that was probably because my old routine involved less riding around Sharon by myself and more Wompatucks, group rides, time trials, and other weeknight "events." Lo and behold, there are reasons all those things exist.

I miss the old Wednesday Worlds, aka the "Hagen ride" which used to meet in Wellesley. The ride was invitation only, at least at first, and was harder than any race most weeks. I think it grew a bit and then maybe died off when Mark got older, but I'm guessing it morphed into something else. Anybody know? While I have an aversion to out-of-control training rides out in the public eye, and I'm significantly older and slower myself these days, I think I need to find out where the action is just in case I'm up for it. I have three options on Tuesdays, but nothing close and appealing on Wednesdays.

Another related change was branching out and finding some new-to-me roads. There is a local group of enthusiast riders (aka gumbies, be nice) who meet a few times a week and ride a ragged "paceline" around the area. I tried it and while it's not for me (pretty terrifying doing a group ride with riders who don't know what they're doing), they do maintain maps online. I checked them out and read their forum posts which discussed this hill or that hill and I was like WTF are they talking about. So I started to investigate and explore a bit on my longer rides. After taking a break in early June I've been in a sort of "Base 2" in Friel-speak, piling on some mileage and just pretending it's January again. Without goals other than saddle time, I can afford to explore a little. I honestly though that I pretty much knew every decent road within an hour of here, but I was wrong. Turns out I've been riding right past a few that are quiet, scenic, and in some cases offer challenging terrain. This past weekend I took the process a step further and figured out a way to get from Sheldonville (my main hilly training area) to Rehoboth (my flat area) without dealing with too much commerce (i.e. Route 1 and 1A sprawl). As luck would have it, gumbies to the rescue again. I noticed that the PanMass Challenge route is now all marked out with permanent signage from Mass Highway. Well, it happens to cross that area, and as one might expect (duh) it's a very quiet and rideable route. There is a light where you cross route 1, but other than that all the highways are crossed where there's no interchange, and everything is rural or suburban at worst. Very cool, as now I can go to Sheldonville-Tower Hill-the reservoir as a loop rather than an out and back.

I know, riveting. In other news, there are only about fifty spots left in D2R2, so sign up now if you don't want to miss it. Don't be afraid. Other plugs: the Rehoboth TT is going on Thursday nights. The turnout has been down a bit this year, only around a dozen riders each week, so a little support might be in order for a great event. Also, pre-registration for the Attleboro crit on Saturday closes tonight, so you might want to sign up for that. This is a pretty nice local crit, one of the few survivors. We can't just race at Ninigret you know. Pre-reg numbers are not looking that great, so hopefully there will be a run on it today. And of course, the 24th Annual Workingmans Stage Race is in two weeks. If you can possibly make it to our event, please sign up. You won't be disappointed. Tired and sleepy yes, disappointed no. The only night time stage race in the world, with the points race going off around 9PM on Thursday, the most fun you'll have all year.

There was more but I can't remember what it was. Sorry that I don't have any pretty pictures. Maybe tomorrow. Thanks for reading.

The Q2 Report

2010-07-01T05:31:00.007-04:00

Solo did not race much in June, but here he is making his New Britain debut at the head of the 45+ field.

Not much racing = not much blogging. Not a lot of news on the training front either. This has mostly been a rest and rebuild month, otherwise known as January in the summer. Ended the month with 42 hours on the bike, bringing me to 232 YTD, which eclipses last year's record (for the first six months) by an hour and a half. Unless I'm forgetting something, the only races were New Britain and once at Wompatuck, plus the Rehoboth TT started up. I went last week and set fast time, thanks to a ripping tailwind. A slight course change diverted us down Agricultural Ave in order to circumnavigate a road construction trench, which added about 500m to the course. So my 18:51 came to just under 43 kph (27 mph), which is a rare achievement for me the past few years. I don't think tonight will be as fast.

June was a good month to be in the solobreak sidebar though. Let's do the rundown. I'll stick to alphabetical order to make this easy on myself.

Mark Cuban is still filthy rich.

Brentani got to ride with Jerry

Ryan Kelly had a good race at Hoosatonic Hills.

Paul enjoyed the World Cup.

Gewilli raced his bike way more than last year.

Jerry gave his kids haircuts and lived the life of the bike pro/house husband and didn't even know it.

Hilljunkie set a PR for climbing Mt Kearsage on crutches.

Ted King, well, he was Ted King. And he won at Hoosatonic.

Il Brucie also enjoyed the World Cup.

Mary raced Ironman CDA in a sick time of 11:15 or something like that.

Jay went 26+ mph at the CBTT

Joe Friel ate some grapes.

Jonny Bold went for a nature walk with his camera and still probably kicked a bunch of asses.

Kevin hosted a week of free workouts at his gym.

Meg got to hang out with JD.

Michelle raced the Big Ring Rumpus

Murat bought a new house, had a better month than he did in May, and started riding his bike again.

Karin was cheerful as usual, and probably went to the Sox.

Pave had lots to write about.

The pink hats got all giddy about disc brakes being legalized for cx.

Sage remained flexible.

Mark probably rode his IFs in his gorgeous locale.

Sonya kept posting so many photos that the page won't load.

Paul announced at New Britain, heckled me mercilessly, and never blogged about it.

Strangelife went retro.

Joe told a Marines story.

Todd was still in Texas (it can't be all good), but I'm sure he enjoyed some beer.

Rich had fun.

Colin raced his bike a lot, and still has a gigantic brain and a cool girlfriend.

Thom did not drink any Chelada.

Zen got to ride with me at the Tuesday night worlds. How much better does it get than that?

Thanks for reading.

This might end up being one of our last group photos before a new kit. Photo by Wolfie!

No Brainer

2010-06-27T21:12:00.002-04:00

Even though "Wampatuck" is a road in the Blue Hills, versus "Wompatuck" where we have the race, of course I had to buy this. It's pretty good too. The brewery is a 200 meter sprint from my Mom's place. Thanks for reading.

Blame it on cyclocross

2010-06-20T06:51:00.003-04:00

Where to begin? Since this is a bike racing blog, how about bike racing? You may have noticed that I haven't done much of it this month. Sure, I went to New Britain, even doubling up and doing both the 35+ and the 45+ events, but that was more of a team-bonding experience than a serious attempt at racing. My guys love New Britain, and I'd never even been to a race there, so I went to see what the fuss was about. Winning a $10 prime in the 45+ and a $50 prime in the 35+, subtracting $57 in entry fees my day ended $3 in the black. Man was it a struggle though, confirming what I'd learned at Wompatuck the Tuesday prior -- I'm far from my best. This fact has been obvious since before Killington, really even back at Sunapee and Sterling. Originally my "plan" was to do one of those "peak" things we hear so much about during the month of May, with Sunapee being the mythical "A" race. At least to the greatest extent to which I apply myself to these sorts of things. Back in March and April, the plan appeared to be going exceedingly well. Without even really trying hard, I was flying. The first two Ninigret races I felt like I had a motor in my seat tube. I was pretty lean. My pedaling felt better than it had in years. And I hadn't even begun to "build" with a big "block" (don't I sound all scientific?) of "specific work." Surely by May I would be untouchable. Not.

What went wrong? It should have been obvious, as I've watched and mocked others do the same thing season after season, but I guess there's still nothing like first hand experience when it comes to lesson-learning. Plain and simple, I peaked too early. Way too early. And I failed to recognize this, mostly because I did it without really training (on the bike) that much. And since I'm really not all that great of an athlete, my "peak" performance level wasn't all that high. Nevertheless, in hindsight, it was as nearly as high as it was going to get at this time. Like so many others before me, I mistook my condition as simply "having a good base," honestly assuming that now I could begin to get really focused and get way more fit even though I was feeling stronger and fitter in every way than I had in years.

The problem is, the body, especially one as old and decrepit as mine, can only adapt to so much so fast before it needs a break. I did not take much of one this past winter. The last good one I took was back in September. Then I started racing cross, albeit in my casual I don't really give a shit about this stuff manner. In the fall I was doing my usual bunch of running races too, and between that and all the cx races, well, that was a lot of intensity. I was backing in to some reasonable fitness, and that was before going to the west coast for two weeks of training and racing in early December. The end result was way better fitness than I'd ever planned on having in the dead of winter. Which would have been fine if running hadn't been bothering my hip, because there are some good running races beginning in January that I could have applied my fitness too. But since that was out, I went back to the west coast for another two weekends of cross racing. Remember, we're still in mid-January here.

When I got back, I took a "break" of maybe two weeks without doing much, but there might have been a few four hour snowshoe sessions in there, stuff like that. And I was enjoying the gym. A lot. The place I go to had moved into a new facility with some big "functional training" rooms where I could do anaerobic stuff like box jumps and hurling medicine balls at a heavy bag until I collapsed. It was fun. And it was hard. And it pushed my fitness without me ever touching a bike. But of course by now it was February, the winter was mild, and I was touching my bikes a bit by then. Not a lot of hours, but probably more focus than in years past. And I'd given up on running for the winter to allow my hip to stop annoying me. When I stop running, my cycling performance gets way better. Normally I try do this in the early summer. But we're still in March. Funny how this all seems so obvious now.

So April was good. I even won a mass-start USCF weekend race for the first time in over a decade. Not a big race, and not a dominant performance by any means (can you say flukey?) but the field was high quality. In the other early races, I did not feel under pressure like I usually do in the early season. All systems go. Then things began to unravel. The first indicator was low energy. My twice a week gonzo sessions at the gym were leaving me wasted the next day. At first I figured it would just take me a few weeks to get used to increasing my riding volume. Sure, I was adding stuff, and not taking away much, but that's why we call it a "build" right? And sure enough, if I took a day or two off, it might be followed by a bright spot, a super day on the bike. But not a super week. I got into a cycle of one or two great workouts followed by four days of WTF is wrong with me? And by now we were in the thick of road race season, with Turtle Pond, Sterling, Sunapee coming up. Turtle Pond did not go too badly, but I could tell I wasn't nearly as sharp as I was there last year. But this was planned as the end of a block, and I was sitting out the following week because my club was promoting the Merrimac race. That gave me about five days without training, merely driving up to Haverhill and working on race stuff until the wee hours. That's what's known in the trade as quality rest...

Obviously, this strategy did not work out too well. My May performance sucked. I thought maybe I wasn't eating enough, so I began to eat more. And train less. I stopped going to the gym completely, because I was too tired to make it work. The result was predictable: my fitness continued to slide, and my weight went up. And I eventually figured out what was going on. I struggled through Sunapee, but I knew going I wouldn't figure in the results. We went to Killington too, what the hell. June was planned all along as a break month. And here we are. And break I have. Other than New Britain and one Wompatuck, I haven't raced. I haven't really trained either. My bike hours are going to be down about 40% or more from May's total of 55 (I rarely go much more than that, and usually on a couple of months each season are over 50). My weight is the highest it's been in five years. I know we male bike racers obsess about our weight, but this is weird.

I don't have a lot of plans on the horizon either. The Workingman's is next month of course, but I expect to be working the event, not racing, unless the team comes up with a plan where I'm not needed. There are some other good events in July, like Hilltowns, and a 40k TT out at Battenkill. Normally I would try to get fit for the WMSR, then hold it through August where the Mt A TT (a favorite of mine) and the Bow RR await. Then there is D2R2 for fun, and the season is more or less a wrap. But Bow is not on the schedule this year, I fear a victim of being too hard for most salon riders, and the season migrating further into the spring. I'm still doing D2R2 (the REAL D2R2, not the 100k kiddie-meal), so that gives me something to train for. I even rode out to Purgatory yesterday, a bit over six hours total, so that's a start. I'd like to get at least two seven+ hour days in next month.

Was that worth waiting two weeks for? Does the story sound familiar? I could have used the much more fashionable "I suck because I only care about cyclocross" line that we hear from so many so often. That is pure bullshit, and not only in my case. Very, very few of the riders at the sharp end of the cross fields are specialists who don't race road. Don't kid yourself. The riders who make the races are good athletes all year, competitive in whatever it is they choose to do. I have been here before too, back before 90% of you ever heard of cyclocross, I was already finding out that it takes special care to manage two seasons of racing in one year. It was so long ago that I forgot the lesson. Hell, I can barely remember back as far as when I started writing this entry. I'm cutting myself some slack. mmmmmm, slack. Thanks for reading.

Friday Pro Tips

2010-06-11T10:52:00.000-04:00

It's been over a week, but this is all I have time for.

1) Use disposable wipes to clean your bike. They're especially good for cleaning the chain. Your hands stay clean in the process. Household or auto parts store wipes are better, but baby butt wipes will do.

2) If you get a flat clincher out on the road and are stuck needing a tire lever, use your quick-release.

3) You can cook a baked potato or a sweet potato by microwaving it for about five minutes, then wrapping it in aluminum foil and letting it sit for a few more.

4) To thread a new cable through a frame with internal routing, use a spoke to fish the free end of the cable out.

5) Pin the last digit (left side, first for right side) of your number even with your last rib.

6) To avoid getting cat hair on your clothes, avoid cats and people who own cats.

7) Lip balm can be used on your neck when you forget sunscreen.

8) Real Estate newspapers from the vestibules of stores are great for windblock under the jersey if you get caught in the cold. Keep some in your car for chilly race mornings too.

9) Trainers make great repair stands.

10) If your bike starts creaking suddenly, try re-seating the front wheel in the fork.

Thanks for reading.

Back to the Beast

2010-06-03T21:46:00.009-04:00

OK, let's finish up while I still vaguely remember the details. After the race on Saturday, I made dinner for the three of us. Anyone who knows me is now shaking their heads saying WTF? I'm not known as a cook, but I brought food, made everyone salads, cooked some sweet potatoes, toasted some rolls, and sent Billy outside to grill some burgers. I even brought biscottis and yogurt for dessert. And there was much rejoicing. Sunday our TT starts were not until late afternoon. And Armand had been eliminated from the stage race on the time cut, boo hiss. We spent the morning cleaning our road bikes up after Saturday. I showed the boys the easy way of using disposable household cleaner wipes and Billy was quite impressed.

I took my road bike out for a ride around Ludlow to make sure it would be ready for Monday. Everything was perfect, except the brakes were still all grabby even though the pads and rims were spotless. Whatever, good enough, so I took my TT bike in the car and parked at the Sunrise Mountain base lodge, which was the halfway point on the course. Nobody else was parked there, so I setup my trainer on a covered porch, and had a porto all to myself. I got in a decent warmup, interrupted a few times to make adjustments to my saddle. Before the Maine TT last week, I had raised my bars 2 cm, because I just could not pedal well the way they were. But now my position is a bit messed up and probably not all that aero, although I argued with Armand that I was just one of those people more comfortable with Armstrong-compact rather than Cancellara-flatback.

I was using my powertap wheel with a plastic cover. Armand loaned me a Cosmic front clincher. My TT bike is some no-name Taiwanese aluminum creation with flattened tubes, but no fancy faired rear wheel or anything like that. And it is pretty heavy, at least 10 kg total. I wouldn't be on the best equipment in the race, but I think it was far from the worst.

The ride to the start was downhill with a tailwind. The last few pros to go off were heading the opposite way on the course. I got to the start about five minutes ahead of time, and as you can see, looked like a total dork. Armand had convinced me that I had to push my helmet back, because I don't hold my head level when I ride. My chiropractor has been telling me that my neck is an inflexible piece of shit and I'm starting to believe her. I honestly never noticed until she pointed it out.

The race would be pure headwind. Bruce Diehl (Sunapee) started 30 seconds ahead of me. You can see him rolling off in the photo. He beat me last week in Maine, and that was the last I saw of him here too. Kurt Gustafsson (CRCA) was starting behind me. He is from NY and so I don't know him but I've seen his name in the results enough to know he can ride, so I wasn't sure if he was a threat to pass me. I started and felt pretty good. I was trying to hold back and keep a good cadence. My plan was to keep it under 300 watts for the first four minutes, then keep a lid on it until the rollers before the Skyship. But right away I felt pretty good even though I was seeing well over 300 most of the time. I wasn't going that fast though. The wind sucked. The course was marked with a 15k, 10k, and 5k to go signs, which was very nice. Not much to really say here. I rode as hard as I dared. The dry air got to me with all my mouth breathing, and I really wanted to drink. I knew I wasn't catching Bruce. I did catch another rider who must have started two ahead of me. Near the turn to River Road, I lost focus and thought we would be taking the little shortcut road, but it was not marked nor blocked, which messed me up but I just chugged up to the corner. That left me a little blown and it took me a second to get going again. At the line I emptied the tank but then found the line I was looking at was the 100m to go line so I gasped for the remaining distance. I had 27:38 on my watch, which turned out to be my official time. After turning around I saw Kurt right there, so I assumed he'd beat me but according to the results he was a few seconds behind me, so I guess 30 seconds passes quickly when you're seeing stars.

That is a slow-assed average speed of only about 37 kph though. My PT claims I averaged 318 watts, which would be a nice PR for me at this duration, but I'm having trouble believing it. The Cronoman got 295 and was only 2 seconds slower than me. In Maine we rode the same times and had the same wattages (we weigh the same and are the same height). I really don't know how I could have got that un-aero in one week. Not only that, but I came in friggin 28th! I know the field is stacked, but that was hard to take, and it makes me skeptical of this "record" wattage. On the other hand, I tend to do better in shorter TTs, so maybe I just suck.

The good news (and there is always good news here on solobreak, right?) was the road race on Monday was in the morning. And the weather was awesome. So I went back to my little camp at the Sunrise base lodge, cooled down, ate a banana, and did an hour or so of stretching and relaxing on the porch. Then the boys came by and reminded me that we hadn't driven the road course yet. And they didn't want to, so while they went home to make dinner, I set out on my own. Not without first stopping for a bag of chips, a gigantic brownie, and some chocolate milk. The course was pretty tame for much of it, heading up 100 and 107, but then it turned back toward Woodstock on a very scenic but hilly road that would be awesome for just a bike ride without all this racing crap. This led to Route 12 and then to a dirt road with a sculpture park on it, and eventually back to Route 4.

We had pot roast with potatoes and carrots for dinner. It took a while to be ready. I had to yell at the Cronoman for trying to eat all my breakfast food. He seemed to be starving; knowing him he figured that he did not earn the right to eat after only an 11 mile time trial. I was careful not to eat too much meat. I don't think the Cronoman ended up eating too much of anything before going home. He would pay for that the next day. The rest of us each had one beer. Monday morning I got to the race around 800 for an 850 start, but didn't warm up much. That had me a bit worried, as just three miles into the race we were going to climb Sherburne Pass, which is well over a mile of climbing, albeit probably only at 3-4% grade. We rolled out under perfect skies and weather. Two guys went at the gun but I did not see who they were. I saw Carl Reglar (Danbury Audi) go after them, and the three went up the road. Carl was second at Turtle Pond after a race-long break, so I knew this was serious. Until this year I'd never heard of the guy, but I talked with him after the race and he said though he hadn't raced in fifteen years, he was a former Canadian national team Cat 1. He has some class to come back at age 48 and start going in breaks after only a year or so back in the sport. I'd also find out later that the other two guys were KOM leader Bill Shattuck (Corner Cycle) and Randy Rusk (Arc-en-ciel).

Arc-en-Ciel would have some shit luck when one of their remaining guys broke his front derailleur cable while shifting into the big ring at the top of the pass, and another would flat out just a few miles later. Same guy had flatted Saturday too. They still had Todd Buckley and Dave Kellogg in the field, but with Corner and Arc having guys up the road, the pacemaking was left to OA/Cyclemania, who had the race leader and TT winner Fred Thomas, as well as several other strong guys. This kept the tempo reasonably high and even, and nothing else even attempted to get away. The "hot spot" sprint went uncontested, as there were already three guys away. The big mid race climb came right after that, and I moved to the front in anticipation of fireworks, but they never materialized either. The group moved up the steep climb at not much faster than conversational pace. We rolled down the gorgeous north road, past the KOM without any excitement. Then the course plunged down through the hamlet of Barnard onto route 12 and suddenly it was a race. Maybe OA got a split or something but we went up a shallow grade really fast and actually lost a few riders, including Billy. Just after that was a super long, fast descent, probably two full miles at 70+ kph.

Next up was the short dirt road section. We hit it and the Cronoman said "oh F*ck." I guess he had a bad patch and got popped. The descent was very civil. I went down in the back with Todd and when we got back out on route 4 things were slow so we chatted while I kept looking back for Eric. I did not see him so eventually I stopped looking but a kilometer or two later he came flying back on. Just in time too, as OA put Ron Bourgoin and Neil Fitch on the front for the next 25k to set the pace and take some of the 1:35 the break had back. The rest of us just formed a line and took a free ride all the way back to the mountain at 40kph. I ate a LOT of gel, preparing for what was to come. As Jonny already wrote, when those two guys sat up after a job well done, I think everyone in the field congratulated them for their work and sacrifice. It was quite an effort, and Ron gave up a top 10 on GC to save the race for his team mate.

We still did not have the break in sight. The East Mountain Road climb is 1100+ vertical feet in just 2.2 miles (same one I climbed in training two weeks ago, which took me 15 minutes at 318 watts). I moved up at the turn but as soon as we started climbing I got swarmed on both sides. Maybe I was too cautious, but it seemed to be taking me a bit of time to find my rhythm. Going through the hard right hand switchback where it starts to get really ugly, I counted 28 riders ahead of me, plus the three breakaways. From there the ascent does not relent until the KOM, but I recovered a bit. Sammy Morse (Corner Cycle) and Steve Roszko (Bikereg) came by me from behind and I started to pace off of them. Some riders ahead came back to us and and we formed a small grouppetto. I think Kellogg was in there too. We did the back and forth yo-yo of surge and suffer but eventually all crested the KOM close enough together to regroup for the rollers. This was a big mental boost and I think it helped us keep the tempo up through the condo village even though we were all obviously out of it as far as the major placings go.

Out onto the access road, I saw Armand with my camera, but he had it set video and this is what we got from that. Cut to the chase, I dragged my butt across the line in 25th, good for 21st overall on GC. Missed my goal of top 20. The Cronoman was out of gas at the base of the hill but he dragged himself across a few minutes later. Billy had got in a group and finished a minute or two after Eric. Reglar had stayed away to win, but Thomas was second and took the overall. Shattuck hung on for fourth and won the KOM prize. Randy got absorbed but still crossed the line just ahead of me and Sammy after a valiant race-long effort. I was impressed by the way the race was run and look forward to going back. It was kind of weird with no crit and I barely even saw the Pro race or any other race for that matter as we just showed up and headed out onto the course each day. I'm going to rebuild and refocus in June, maybe not race so much. I'll do an entry soon on how I messed up my training this year, and how I hope to learn from it. Thanks for reading.

The Beast is Back

2010-06-02T06:54:00.003-04:00

Killington used to be the biggest stage race on the east coast. I don't remember any other five-day races. The courses were challenging, and the sprawling ski village was perfect for accommodating six hundred bike racers and their supporters. The race was on Labor Day weekend from 1987 up until around 1998. The last time I did it was 96, I think. Race expenses, primarily for police details, were way, way, into six figures and eventually the organizers decided to pull the plug. At that time mountain biking was booming on the ski mountain and it looked like that might be a better growth area for promoting summer tourism in the region.

Not too long after that, the Green Mountain Stage Race was created, filling the calendar void on the first weekend in September. That race has evolved steadily, and seems to be a success, but it still has not gotten as bike as Killington was. Maybe that's a good thing, because this year the GMSR promoter Gary Kessler, along with the Killingon resort management company and the Long Trail Brewery have brought back the KSR, this time as a three-day, three-stage event to bookend the summer on Memorial Day weekend. Only one of the courses, the "Pepsi" circuit race, remains as a holdover. The other two are new. A 17k point-to-point, very slightly but steadily uphill individual TT was featured Sunday, and a 100k queen stage over incredibly beautiful, but challenging Vermont hills was on tap for Monday. The stage would finish up East Mountain Road, which starts at the Skyeship Gondola on Route 4, climbing 1100 feet in just over two miles before turning into a series of big rollers through the condo village. That lead to the traditional KSR road stage finish on the access road to the base lodge, which climbs another few hundred feet at a steep pitch before the line. This stage finish would make the race fitting of the old "beast" nickname, despite only being three days now.

The planning and organization looked great, at least for the 40-49 masters. Our circuit race did not start until 1:35 on Saturday, so we did not even have to fight holiday traffic after work on Friday. Armand got us a house in nearby Ludlow, so me, him, the Cronoman, and Billy C headed up early Saturday morning. I wisely awarded weekend custody of the Cronoman to someone else though, as he likes to go to bed ridiculously early, and with racing on tap, I could not babysit my high-maintenance best friend all weekend. But of course we let him hang out and eat with us (except he doesn't eat enough of the right foods at the right times, more on that later).

Packet pickup was a breeze. We got to the circuit race venue just in time for it to start raining steadily, always a bonus with a dirt parking lot. At least it was not cold. The organizers had around twenty portajohns, a good sign. The race started on time, in the rain. This event was pre-reg only, so we got a good look at the start list on bikereg during the week. Only 68 riders were in the 40-49, but the field was STACKED with talent. In fact, I would not be surprised if over half the entrants had won races in the past few years. It was pretty incredible. And even though there were several guys "racing down" from the 50+ in order to keep their teams together, they were all good former race winners for sure, and at 49 I was feeling old in this one. But part of the reason I was here was to get acquainted with the new race in prep for next year, when I can race the 50+ (sorry younger team mates, but you're on your fucking own next year).

We would do three laps of the 30k circuit. It was the same as before, except for a slight change on the backside, where they briefly diverted us off route 100A and up around the back of the Calvin Coolidge homestead for the KOM sprints. The "climb" on that leg of the triangular course is long (around 5k) but not very steep, so this small kick was added to give the king/queen of the mountain competition a little meaning. The real dust on that would settle on Monday anyway, and for this stage only three places, 5-3-1 points were on offer each lap. I considered trying to ambush the field on the first sprint and steal some points, as getting this jersey on Saturday would probably be our only hope of actually taking anything home against this field. That plan went out the window when I found myself suffering just to hang on! Fuck, was I just blocked and not ready, or were these guys this fast? I felt like my brakes were rubbing. It did not help that the road as a little bumpy and in the rain it was more difficult to stay tight on a wheel. I was running my carbon wheels too, and the braking was awful, grabby and choppy. I think the back one needs to be re-tensioned, as this remained an issue for me all weekend, even in the dry.

So no KOM attempts for me. Soups did what I couldn't even think of doing, attacking and taking the first five points. The Cronoman hovered near the front, bouncing pesky friend and foe alike off his broad shoulders in order to keep a good position. Me and Billy were hanging grimly a ways back. Armand was with us too, for a while, but this was his first road race of the season (perhaps not a good choice) and with his decidedly non-climber build, he struggled to maintain the pace and got popped just before the KOM. This was bad, bad news as we still had 75k to go and A-man would be in for a long, difficult battle against Cuts-ville if he could not rejoin quickly.

Most of the riders in this field were top quality. The group was mostly very tight and poised. But there are a few misfits in every crowd. Coming out of the KOM some guy in front of me (not from a New England team) practically stopped at the gentle merge back onto 100A. I had to burn half a match sprinting around to get with the field before the bumpy, hair-raising plunge down into Plymouth Union and the tight turn onto 100 proper. Grrrr. Then somehow, probably due to my excess caution and shaky carbon-rim braking, the bozo managed to get back in front of me on the descent, and then get us gapped again coming out of the corner. Badly too. He takes about five pedal strokes and then fucking SITS UP and looks back for someone else to close the giant span he just opened. The field was drilling it too. Now I realize it's my own fault for being back there in the first place, but that did not do much to quell my anger, so I put on my best jump and track sprint. No fucking way I was towing this jackass back up. And it worked. He was G-O-N-E and not seen again all day.

Of course, not long afterward the field slowed a bit. The rain was stopping, the sun was coming out, and we were now riding through a sauna. Then Billy noticed his rear tire was losing air. He doesn't TT well and thus was not a GC guy, so waiting for him was not an option (and probably would have been suicide anyway). Besides, we had Armand back there someplace. So I coached him to summon the wheel van, and try to stop and get a quick change at the turn onto Route 4, where we would sort of slow down. He tried, but the field drilled it on the first half of Route 4 and he was not able to rejoin. And of course, after a few k we slowed down A LOT. Now we had two out of four in a battle against the cut. Life on B.O.B. I conferenced with the Cronoman up near the head of the race. He opined that the strong teams were neutralizing each other, and that he did not think anything stood a chance of getting away. And then he attacked. I just don't understand that man some (most) of the time...

The second time up the rise leg of the course I felt much better. Maybe we were going slower, or maybe I was coming around, or a little bit of both. I got up front but by now everyone knew where the KOM sprint was and the guys who got points in the first sprint were all serious and aggressive about it, so I took a pass. I banzaied the downhill this time to avoid burning matches again. The third lap ended up pretty slow, except for a sharp acceleration a kilometer or so before the KOM, where we went single file. The last time down the hill I had to brake and my pads grabbed, unicycling me off a bump and up onto the front wheel at 40 mph while the back locked up and started to come around. That was my day's excitement. The finish sprint is a mad downhill dash in your biggest gesr, and I just coasted in the crazy draft before pedaling the last 100 meters to make sure I crossed close enough to get S.T. One stage down.

Me and the Cronoman then did a cooldown ride to preview the last part of Sunday's TT. When we got back Armand and Billy were at the truck. We had finished in around 2:11 and Billy said he finished in a group of other flat victims at 2:21 so we knew he had made the cut easily. Armand had not caught him and looked disappointed. The cut would be 2:38 ish...

This boring narrative will have to be continued tomorrow. For a more concise report on how the weekend went at the front of the pack, go see Jonny's blog Thanks for reading.

Killington Stage Race 2.0 - The Aftermath

2010-05-31T23:21:00.003-04:00

Yes Thom, that's Chelada.

And yes, we drank it, but it was a team effort. Story to follow. Thanks for reading.

Cuts-Ville

2010-05-27T22:02:00.004-04:00

This weekend marks the return of the Killington Stage Race in scenic Vermont. Padraig already wrote about it back in the fall, and now the race is here. The KSR began the year I started racing with a license, 1987. That year it was an omnium; you could enter each race individually. I went out to the big-money Tour of Schenectady and then only did the final day on the course from Rutland to K1. I flatted. In the years after that, I raced it quite a few times as a Cat 3, and then in 1996 as a master. In those days the race was a full five days, always including a TT up the access road, a circuit race in Bridgewater, and a criterium in Rutland, along with two lengthy (and hilly) road stages. The Pro/Am always attracted strong teams. I don't think Armstrong ever did it, but I could be wrong. All the others did though, Hincapie, Hamilton, Knickman, Phinney etc. One year me, the Cronoman, and the rest of the Nashua Velo crew had a condo downstairs from Coors Light. They had Alexi Grewal and Mike Zanoli on the squad. At the crit, Grewal busted his ass to bring back a break and keep the field together for the sprint, but I guess Zanoli sat up. We heard them arguing about it, with Alexi really laying into him. Then furniture breaking, shit rumbling, and their D.S. Len Pettyjohn yelling "you didn't have to hit him Mike." Good times.

This year the race is back on a new weekend and in abbreviated three stage form. We'll do the same old circuit race, three laps of an 18 mile loop down in Bridgewater on Saturday. On Monday, the final day, they've laid out a 67 mile single loop road course that goes up 100 to 107, then over some big hills and a bit of dirt, and back to Rt 4 in Woodstock before returning to Killington. The finish is up East Mountain Road, aka Bear Mountain, which climbs 1100 feet in just over two miles. It is pretty brutal. And you're not done at that point; you still have to go over the rollers through the condos and up the last part of the access road to the K1 base lodge. That is going to be G.C. right there.

In the middle, the meat of the sandwich, we have the real subject of this post, the new 11 mile, fairly flat time trial. The start is at the Long Trail Brewery on Route 4. Heading west, it's a very slight but steady uphill past the gondola and then across the ever-windswept Sherburne Flats. The finish is in the actual village of Killington, which is a tiny town way at the base of the mountain. Sounds simple right? The news here, for some anyway, is that a 20% time cut will be enforced. Huh?

Back in the day at the old KSR, the uphill TT was always the first day. In a prologue, time cuts do not apply. But one year they called it "Stage One" and in the pro-am Knickman went sub ten minutes. Now 12 minutes was actually a rockin' good pace on this beast of a course (3.6 miles with a healthy elevation gain of around 1000+ feet). A large number of amateurs in the pro-am were not this fast, and were cut, thank you very much for your $120 entry fee, hope you enjoyed your 3.6 miles at Killington. The next day, the officials relented and decided not to enforce the cut, but by then most of these guys had been in a state of shock/denial/WTF?/let's get hammered for 24 hours, and either chose not to start the circuit race or got shelled out of it. The damage had been done.

In the lowly Cat 3 and other fields, this was never an issue that I recall, at least not for me. Fast forward to 2010. I'm in the 40-49, as are my team mates, some of whom do not time trial quite as well as I do. And so are guys like Jonny Bold and Fred Thomas, monsters who can TT at speeds approaching those of the young pros. In fact, just this past Sunday, I competed in a time trial up in Maine, the Freeport LL Bean Time Trial, part of the Maine Time Trial Series. Mr Thomas was second overall, with an average speed of over 28 mph, which was 12.6% faster than me. So I would survive a 20% time cut, but shit, I'm supposed to be a good time trialist.

Don't get me wrong; I hope they enforce the cut. It's only fair. So long as my team mates all make it... The big guys have to haul their carcasses over the mountains, so why shouldn't the little guys have to man up in the TT? But in this day of "racers as consumers" I can hear the whining now from those who don't make it. And since the fields did not all fill, I won't be surprised if everyone is allowed to start on Monday, regardless of their TT time. They won't want to scare off potential entrants for next year. Remember what happens when you make races too hard... I'm tired, time for bed, thanks for reading.

Sunapee Race Report

2010-05-27T08:07:00.003-04:00

A rushed report on the past weekend's racing. This is going to be crap, as I'm too busy to post, but I don't think I've ever let it go nine day before; that's flirting with blog abandonment. Saturday we raced up at Sunapee, the 37th annual edition of the race, making it a New England monument. If there is a road race with a longer tenure, someone please point it out (Fitchburg was just a crit up until the 90s).

We had 92 starters in the 45+ race, including lots of talent spread across the big teams. Corner Cycle elected to make things harder on themselves by racing down in the 35+, but OA, Keltic, CCB, Fuji, Mystic, Cyclonauts, and everyone else except the host club of Sunapee (who all sacrificed and worked the event) were there. On BOB we had me, Marro, Billy C and Garry S. I have not been feeling too fit this month, and I think I messed up my training cycles, but that is a subject for another post. Suffice to say that Sunapee is one of my favorites, as I have a good track record here, thus making it an "A" event when planning my season, but I knew going in that I wasn't on the form I wanted.

I expected the usual suspects would try to form an early break. We did not have anyone on our squad who was willing and able to cover such a move successfully. The best scenario for us was for the field to stay together to the greatest extent possible. Since I wasn't warmed up all that much, at the start I rolled off first and went right to the head of the race and tried to ride a brisk tempo. My thoughts were that maybe I could set a mood for the day, or at least for the first half lap, where the pace would stay high and nothing would get away. And it seemed to work. The OA and Keltic guys sent attacks off, but me and some others were always at the front making good tempo and no big gaps materialized.

On the Route 11 climb (the old feed zone) Hank from OA went to the front and set a hard pace. I followed him, but felt way to stressed to think about going around. Luckily nothing came of it. The rest of the lap it seemed there were just too many "riders to watch" and this meant about 15-20 guys continually jockeying at the front in order to be in a good spot to cover moves. The end result was nothing ever got up the road, even on the climbs. The second lap we saw the Cat 4 pack ahead, and nobody attacked until after they were neutralized and we passed them. The second time up the Rt 11 climb the race got quite animated and started to break up. Four guys got a small gap, less than ten seconds, on a group of about twenty of us that was strung out at the head of the race. The rest of the field dangled behind, in danger, but not entirely ridden off. Keltic had a guy in the small leading move, and two guys in the group of twenty trying to slow the pace and let the break get away. Mark Suprenaut (Team Type 1) was driving the chase, but they just sat on him. I would have liked to have helped, but I was hanging by a thread a few riders back. The blocking efforts of Keltic allowed the rest of the field to come back together on the descent, but Soups had kept the break close enough that the job was soon finished off and it was all grouppo compacto.

On 103A the last lap I faltered a bit. I was sort of holding my spot, but not moving up on the climbs, and not close to the front. It slowed on the last hill and I got back up front. On 103 with 5k to go, I had good position, but no confidence for the finish climb. I should probably have just waited, but I race on instinct and on one rise there was a slowing and I knew I could get a gap so I went, pulling out a few eeconds. But on the next roller my gap evaporated as quickly as it had formed and the field went right through me. The Cronoman had a go at that point, but they were on him straightaway. From then on I was soft-pedaling in to save my legs for the TT on Sunday, and I don't really know how the final uphill kilometer played out, but Billy ended up 4th, which is a stellar result against a field of this depth.

The TT report from Sunday, and the KSR preview will have to wait. The day job beckons. Thanks for reading.

You should race Sunapee!

2010-05-18T09:56:00.008-04:00

Zencycle leads Armand and his cottage of wattage down Lower Notch Road in Bristol, VT.

Especially if you are a Cat 3. For the record, I planned on writing this a few days ago, before I read G-ride's latest post. But before I get started, I want to give a shout out to my man Armand, who came to do the four gaps ride with us on Saturday. Now I am not exactly a climber, but I'm a lot closer to one than Armand, who has a build more suited to bar fights or bike toss competitions than to riding up mountain passes. The other guys on the ride, zencycle and my team mates Billy and Les, weigh less than 450 pounds combined, and thus are physically advantaged for going uphill compared to the mighty A-Man. The moose we saw on the way home Saturday could probably make that claim too, now that I think about it. Yet this did not deter our over-muscled hero from throwing down on some of the most feared climbs in New England. Not that he expects to become a KOM contender anytime soon. As noted by Jonny, you don't climb hills just to get better at climbing hills, you do them to get stronger in general. Back at the ranch Saturday night, everyone in our little party was commenting on how they were sore in places they weren't usually sore in. Climbing like that, and in particular climbing when your primary movers are totally fatigued, conditions your body to learn new muscle recruitment patterns. Anything to keep the bike moving. And that's the stuff that makes you stronger.

Anyhow, enough of that lovefest, back to the point. There are only 27 riders signed up for the Cat 3 race at Mt Sunapee this weekend. WTF is up with that? I know there might be a few riders who elected to do the Pro/1/2/3, but come on. I'm afraid there are multiple problems at work here. For one, I'm told the USCF or USAC or whatever we call our beloved road cycling sanctioning body now has a membership that is 80% masters age. And sure enough, the 45+ race has over sixty riders signed up already. The 35+ not so many. Not to get all nostalgic, but back when I was a Cat 3 the situation was totally the opposite. Cat 3 races filled at 100, 125, 150 and even 175 riders sometimes, often weeks in advance, even though we had to lick stamps and mail in registrations in those days. Of course, a lot of us still race, thus the big 45+ fields in the current era. But there are other forces at work, and I think they should be dealt with.

There used to be only four categories for men, not five. In fact, slightly before my time, there were only three. Some of the masters around today who carry a Cat 3 license never had to be upgraded to get it; they started and stayed there. Then a lot of us started as Cat 4 and only upgraded once. The big difference then was that without Cat 5, there were only "citizens races" for people with no license. These events were just as dangerous as going on a group ride of non-racers (I follow the mailing list of such a local cycling club, and every "training ride" they conduct seems to involve brushes with death). Buying a license and racing Cat 4 was only slightly better, as these were like present-day Cat 5 races, except with hundred rider field limits instead of fifty. This was big motivation for most riders who stuck around to upgrade to Cat 3, where not only were races longer, but the chances of losing skin on a weekly basis due to some bonehead's lack of skills and/or good judgment were greatly reduced.

A side effect of this situation was very low entry fees for licensed racers. You see, USCF races had a regulated fee system, but the "citizen" races did not. So promoters could charge a then crazy fee, like $10 or even $15 for the citizen's race, and use the proceeds to subsidize the USCF categories, where we typically paid $5 to race for a $500-$1000 prize list in the Cat 3. You read that correctly, prize lists used to be A LOT BIGGER than they are now. Are today's promoters gouging you? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Their expenses have gone up dramatically, and their revenues have plummeted because the USCF started Cat 5, and killed the promoter's golden cash cow that was the citizens. Someone in Colorado Springs saw all the money this source was providing, and came up with the bright idea of starting a fifth category, and then requiring and selling the "one day license," thus robbing the promoter of what was rightfully theirs. Now the rest of us pay $25+ to race for $150/5 places and shit like that. But I digress...

The end result was now riders just want to get out of Cat 5, and make a forever home in Cat 4. As noted at the top of the post, even the riders just starting out are mostly over 35 for some reason. They may be largely delusional (they are wannabee bike racers after all), but most don't even dream of moving up the ladder to Cat 2, 1, or Pro, as they know they are already too old. The problem is most are content to stay as Cat 4 (probably to race in the early morning and get home before the wife and kids wake up). There is a huge glut of Cat 5 and Cat 4 racers. Now I don't really like the Cat 4s in the masters races, but that is a different topic. I think what really needs to happen is the USCF needs to do a better job at moving these guys along into Cat 3, which should be the biggest race, and should be fiercely competitive like it used to be. This will in turn graduate more better riders into the masters. The promoters can do their part here too, by not paying prizes in the Cat 4, and more importantly, like Sunapee, not caving in and combining the Cat 3 and Cat 4 fields. The idea is to make racing the Cat 3 more attractive, and the Cat 4 less attractive, even if this might bring some short-term financial pain.

Why should I even care? Because I believe it's the right thing to do, and that is what Sunapee is doing. Not only that, but they are only charging $25, including bikereg fees (don't get me started on that nickel-and-dime scheme, a huge expense that nobody seems to care about) for one of the best and longest running races in the region. Why it is not filled beyond capacity by now is a mystery. Is the race too hard for today's salon riders or something? You know, it used to be three laps of the course for all categories. In fact, the NH/ME districts used to be there and do four laps, and I think the big race might have even been five at one time. Today it seems that if there is any chance of getting dropped at a race, riders stay away. What ever happened to confronting a challenge? Is it really just because the entry is not $5 any more?

We have already lost Bow (I think anyway, don't see it on the calendar this year), which suffered from poor attendance because the racing public deemed it "too hard." As I told my boys this weekend, do you really want to tell your grandkids about how you used to ride in circles around industrial parks? Besides that, the men and women who run the Sunapee Bike Club are some of the finest people in New England racing. These guys will race you hard as all shit, but then be super nice in the parking lot. They support all of our races, routinely turning out full squads for races across New England. So don't give me the "it's too far, it's too early" shit. These guys, and lots of others from the outer limits routinely commute hundreds of miles to attend your crappy races, so quit whining and reciprocate with some support.

I am not sure if I rambled my way off course or not. I guess I forgot to suggest maybe even just going to 40+ and 50+ for masters, thus forcing the 35-39 set to race with the 3s and even out the fields. Hey, I'll be fifty next year... Later I'll probably think of a bunch more stuff that I meant to write but did not; that's the way it goes. This is just your reward for making it this far, courtesy of Burt Friggin' Hoovis. Thanks for reading.

Weekend Activities

2010-05-17T13:55:00.003-04:00

To make this easy on myself, in roughly chronological order:

1) Packed up my shit.

2) Drove to Vermont with zencycle.

3) Went riding. Team-Time-Trialed up Route 100, trying to get back before dark.

4) Tried to soft-pedal up the one mile, 20% grade to the house in order to save my legs for the next day. In the dark.

5) Drank Guinness.

6) Ate the best pancakes ever.

7) Rode over Middlebury Gap.

8) Rode over App Gap.

9) Made a movie of Armand humping his bike over App Gap.

10) Panic-braked in the middle of the App Gap descent to buy homemade cupcakes from little girls running a roadside lemonade and cupcake stand. Totally worth it.

11) Rode over Roxbury Gap.

12) Rode over Rochester Gap.

13) Saw a moose.

14) Drank Peak Organic Expresso Amber Ale.

15) Ate more of the best pancakes in the world.

16) Rode up to the Killington base lodge.

17) Ate a meal home-cooked by Armand's mom.

18) Drank Budweiser Ale.

19) Packed up my shit.

20) Drove back to Mass with zencycle.

21) Drank Mayflower Porter.

22) Ended sixty glorious hours without internet or cell service.

Thanks for reading.

Not Again...

2010-05-11T22:23:00.004-04:00

WTF has happened around here? More charts and graphs than Ross Perot. Or maybe even Murat. I figured out how to isolate intervals in GC v1.3, and it's actually very slick. You can now use the "find best intervals" tool, save them with one click, and then plot them, framed by the ride using different colored dots, or isolated by themselves, like they are here. The power of FOSS at our service.

Anyhow, this is the combination of two trips up the Big Blue Hill access road. The first one took 5:40 and was 386 watts, which means I'm a little fat, or maybe I need to zero the torque, as that's higher than expected for this speed. The second was 404 and 5:15, same situation. Could be a combination of wind, obesity, very full seat bag, and two full water bottles. Anyhow, the average cadence was a mere 68 rpm. The first time up I was just trying to keep it steady and not spike the power, as I'd planned on doing it twice and know from experience how badly that goes if the first one is too hard. I used my 39x23 a lot but never went for the 25, staying seated as much as possible. Between the ride down and some rolling around the museum lot, I had seven minutes recovery before trying again, this time with feeling. 39x19 to start, I think, then the 21? Lots of standing, trying to focus on breathing as deeply as possible rather than panting and closing up the chest. During the hardest parts at the top, I try to drop myself into a trance, visualizing oxygen molecules jumping from my lungs to my bloodstream (they look suspiciously like Scrubbing Bubbles according to my vivid imagination). Open up your vessels and let the blood flow! Or maybe I'm just weird like that. It seems to work, for me anyway, and I almost feel like I can stave off going anaerobic with this technique.

There's no conclusion here, except maybe that I'm nuts. In the next few weeks I'm going to try to bang out some flatland intervals at VO2 max and see if I can cluster the dots in the yellow zone but shifted over to the right. Just for scrubbing bubble giggles. Thanks for reading.

Host Housing Request

2010-05-10T11:30:00.000-04:00

I have a 23 year old neo-Pro from California who is coming out to race Fitchburg. His team is not coming, so he needs host housing for the race weekend. If you are in the general vicinity of Fitchburg and might be able to help out, please contact me at jellysidedown at gmail. Thank you for your consideration.

Bummer story

2010-05-10T11:10:00.000-04:00

I just got word that Dougie broke his ankle yesterday, out mountain biking. Most of you know he has been training his ass off to prep for a trip to Italy later this week, to ride the mountains and watch the Giro. Send the poor guy some cheer...

Dougie, this is why I do crits instead of mountain bike! Heal up! Thanks for reading.

Race Report - Sterling Circuit Race Cat 3's

2010-05-09T07:57:00.004-04:00

Yup, I did not reg for the 45+ and it filled up. Thought about the 35+, but decided to wait and make a game day decision, because of my recent slowness. Then race morning it rained. I was going to bail out on it, but the 3s didn't go until 1 pm, and the radar showed some promising signs. Around 1100 am, when the masters races were just going off, it was pouring at my house, and I heard later that on the course it was even worse. But I loaded up my backup bike, ancient GP4 wheels, and even my old shoes and made the sixty mile trip north, just making it before the close of registration. My car thermo read 55 degrees; it seemed warmer, yet inside the school there were a dozen riders from earlier races wrapped in mylar blankets, shivering from hypothermia. Hmmmm.

It was only drizzling by now. Trackrich was working the race for the host Minuteman club, and he gave me the 411 on course conditions. I'd packed a pretty light selection of clothing, but after seeing the flash-frozen racers at reg, I went with my Hasyun wool undershirt, arm and knee warmers, and toe covers. Four layers of newspaper up the jersey, and an extra pair of long gloves in the pockets in case the first pair got too wet. And yes, a cycling cap under the helmet, visor forward.

Probably the last to register, I received bib number 68. There must have been a dozen or so no-shows, as on the line the field appeared to be around 50-55 riders. I had zero warm up, but the first 5k or so is neutral to get from the school to the course, but then it's uphill for about 1/4 mile. Sterling is an 8 mile loop, and it's one of those courses where it seems like almost the entire thing is downhill. I guess you gain the elevation on the short finish hill and then a bunch of little rollers that all add up, but don't feel much like climbing when you're in a bunch. And that is where I'd be today.

I've raced hundreds of Cat 3 races. When I started there was no Cat 5, and my career as a 4 lasted only three months before I was upgraded. And I've been there ever since, never bagging high finishes consistently enough to satisfy the powers that were for upgrading to a 2. Then I became a master and since then I've only done one or two Cat 3 races a year. They never seemed all that hard. Until yesterday. Maybe I'm getting old (well duh), and there were several juniors in the field whose fathers I normally race against. But hopefully I was not having a good day. With the lack of warmup, I was on the ropes right from the gun. It did not help that having not seen the course since last year, and expecting puddles and debris from the morning downpours, I was leaving myself extra space. Anyone who thinks that old-school wheels are not much slower than deep carbons is crazy. With the GP4s, closing up little gaps at speed was WORK! I was feeling like I had my pants around my ankles, face down in the mud behind the 7-11, the field having its way with me.

Still on lap one, heading onto Route 12, someone ten riders ahead of me let a huge gap open. I was trying to conserve energy and sit on wheels, but these guys were not closing it, instead letting it grow. The field was drilling it and the next thing I know it's 10-15 seconds. Seriously, just from shitty cornering. This is what I get for riding at the back. I had no choice but to take the initiative and show these punks how it's done, driving the chase group for about a kilometer until it got close enough (and the field slowed) for someone else to finish the job. Burning matches on the first lap just to stay with the field, not a good sign. By the time I got anywhere near comfortable, we were back in Sterling center at the base of the climb. The good news was, this was the only place on the course where I wasn't struggling to hold my spot. A break moved off though, I think three guys, and I'm pretty sure two of them stayed away to win. Me, I just fought to hang, passed at least ten riders, but at the top the only one behind me was the follow moto (who kind of annoyed me all day by basically riding in the pack, often taking the good line away from us on the wet descents. But he had a job to do, I guess). The field had shrunk to what looked like 30-35 guys.

I pulled myself together, remembering how to conserve energy on this course, and was more vigilant about little gaps. I could tell this wasn't going to be a day for me to ride the front. Then the third time up the hill, I swear the field got bigger. I suspect a bunch of dropped riders took the bypass and jumped back in. With many riders still covering their numbers under vests and rain capes, it was a perfect opportunity for such shenanigans to go undetected. Whatever. Our field ebbed and flowed. A couple of the laps got pretty fast and strung out. I was just doing the "make it one more lap" thing. Then when I expected to see two to go on the cards, they read three, and my heart sunk. Looking at my watch, it read 1:21 or something, and the neutral had taken eight minutes, so yup, we've only done four circuits. I forced down some gel, probably too little too late. I knew I was shit, as riders around me were chatting pretty calmly at times I was breathing hard. At least I did not know anybody so no one tried to talk to me.

Made it to one to go. Woo-hoo. I could see Eric Pearce (Cyclonauts), another master and maybe the only guy in the race older than me, dangling off the front. Briefly I thought about trying to bridge, as he is strong, but I knew that once in the wind I'd go poof like the famous proverbial fart in a hurricane. Besides, I couldn't really get to the front without burning a match, as well as risking the ire of the heavy-handed yellow line enforcement going on from the moto. So I sat where I was, tail firmly between my legs like I had all day. Oddly, we went pretty slow until we were almost in Sterling, then they wound it up. I was cramping just trying to hold my spot. Uneventfully, we rounded the tight final turn and the "sprint" began. I think I passed three or four leadout riders who had sat up, one racer even more pathetic than I, and maybe a pizza delivery guy on an adult trike. But I made it to the line.

Back at the cars it was not raining, and not cold. I got all cleaned up and packed. The kit was dirty but not horrible. Two runs through the wash would do it. Once I was finished, I stretched a bit and got in the car to begin preparing a sandwich. Suddenly it got dark as all shit, the skies opened up, and by the time I was pulling out of the lot my wipers were on their highest speed and the road had six inches of flooding on it. Score! If I'd stayed home I may not have even ridden. As it was, I got in almost 100k. The race was 40 kph average for 85k, pretty decent. I was near threshold the entire time. I think I'll ride easy today. Thanks for reading, as I know this one was much less fun-filled than usual.

Spin Class

2010-05-07T17:04:00.007-04:00

Update: OK, the last picture was an entire two hour ride, when the only part I cared about was a 40 minute interval. So that wasn't really fair. In fixing it, I upgraded to GC v1.3, and it makes a little bit nicer plot.

Pop quiz: Can any of you geeks tell me what is going on here, and why I am pleased by it? Get it right and there might be a star for your forehead or something. Thanks for attending.

Update on comments: What is going on? This isolation of the 40 minute effort does a better job of showing what I am bragging about. If it wasn't obvious before, the black curved line plots whatever power value you plug into the Watts box on the left. With v1.3 of GC, it's hardly even needed, as now the background has these nice rainbow-like shadings to identify power zones for the rider in question. The value plugged in to the RPM box moves the Y-axis from left to right, to the corresponding pedal velocity, based on the crankarm length input. The horizontal black line really has no purpose, as you could use the intercept of the vertical line and the black curved line to see where the watts and rpms intersect. I guess it helps you find that point on the force scale, but other than that it has no meaning and is just in the way. Where the points land in relationship to the curved line and the vertical line is what matters.

So then what is the big deal? This plot represents a cruise interval. I've been doing this workout for years, since long before I got the stupid power meter. Normally I do these on an uninterrupted, 10k stretch of flat road, and they take 15-17 minutes, depending on wind, fitness, etc. My goal with these has always been to simultaneously maintain both a fairly high effort and a high cadence. Yesterday I was just fifteen minutes into my lunch ride when I realized I was feeling good and ready to begin. With light daytime traffic, I could navigate over to my normal course without stopping or having anything else get in the way. Therefore, as a change of pace I figured I'd try to do this for 40 minutes straight, with only a slight decrease in effort from what I normally maintain for 10k.

What I like about these plots in GC is they depict the "quality" of your spin. Anyone can spin the pedals fast with no pressure on them. That doesn't do much good though, does it? This is always the issue I've had with athletes using a fixed gear or single speed to develop allegedly good pedaling technique. Without pressure on the pedals, high cadence is rather meaningless. By the same token, all the pressure in the world doesn't do much good if you're at 40 rpm. We've all seen the DWI's and pathletes (and some of us even compete with them) chugging along in their 42x13. It may hurt, but it doesn't make you go faster. In fact, one of the real revelations I had after starting to use a PM was just how badly my power fell off the map when my cadence dropped, even though the effort seemed difficult. Anyhow, if you want to be like Cancellara, then you have to not only spin, but spin with some pedal force. And that is what I try to do.

As I noted in a post earlier this week though, I've been feeling like shit since coming off my rest week. The real indicator of shit-feeling to me is when I just can't find a gear that works. I can't muscle, and I can't spin. No matter what I do, I can't make the bike go fast. This was particularly disconcerting to me this week, as up until Turtle Pond, and even last Sunday riding with the Cronoman, I felt I was pedaling very well. The work I've been doing to free up my SI joint has helped me feel more balanced, and generally "loose," which in turn helps me maintain a good cadence even during more intense efforts. But since Sunday that was lacking, until yesterday.

And that's all there really is too it. If you look at the plot, which shows just the 40 minute interval (except the few black dots), the majority of it is on the high side of the 90 rpm line. The 289w black line is the average power for the entire effort. This is only about 10w less than what I normally do for 15 minutes. In fact, the best 15 minutes of this, which came at the very end, on the road where I normally do these efforts, came in at a PR of 318, and an avg cadence of 99. And that was after 25 minutes of 270ish. But what really counts for me here is that the pedal velocity is high, but the force is still there, thus the power was made at high rpm. I'm spinning with authority.

Dougie's comment about Blue Hill is a fly in my ointment though. I've still never been able to make a good run on Blue Hill at high cadence. My best times up there usually end up being an average of somewhere between 68-75 rpm. Nature of the beast I guess. The grade is pitchy and I stand a lot. Plus at anaerobic power levels, higher cadences seems to push me closer to the tipping point. On the other hand, when I do five minute efforts on the flats, I do my best at 100 rpm or better, but the power is generally 10% or so lower than what I get on Big Blue for the same duration. On the flats I think my efforts are more of a true 5-minute VO2 max indicator, whereas on Big Blue it's 4-minutes VO2 max followed by 1 minute of totally anaerobic. Of course, we don't have a lot of 40 minute climbs around these parts, which is why Doug does so much traveling to seek them out. Next weekend I plan to try some of the longer ones we do have in New England though, and I'll see if I can climb at decent cadences too, and if it seems to help. Yes, I realize that it's how fast you go, not how you go fast, but i think after all this time I know how to make me go faster, thus I work on it. Thanks for reading and commenting.

One Minute Hills

2010-05-06T06:51:00.006-04:00

A few weeks ago a semi-famous Boston-based Mountain Khaki-wearing pro bike racer/coach/promoter/blogger twitted a request for places to do one minute hill repeats. Uninterested in the popular pastimes of facialbooking and tweetering, I only follow what makes it onto his blog, and from the synopsis it appeared that he settled on Moose Hill in Sharon. The main part of Moose Hill is short and pretty steep, definitely a sprinter's hill. Personally I don't like it all that much, as it has a fast lead in and that makes you feel bogged down when you get to the more difficult part. Then there is a stop sign at the top. There are two other longer, more gradually ascending roads that lead to the same spot, and I enjoy these. For intervals, you'll more likely find me down at the bottom, doing loops on the little triangle made up from Moose Hill Parkway, Upland Road, and a short section of route 27. It takes five or six minutes and has nice ups for efforts and downs for recovery, great for crit simulations. And it's all right turns with minimal traffic.

Of course I work over in the Blue Hills, right on the course for the race they had last week (in which I did not compete this year). Anyone who reads this blog probably knows that I often frequent the main Big Blue Hill access road for my five minute efforts. And of course, like the smart-cyclist referenced in my opening paragraph, I've been riding around the hill on the race course (aka the "short loop" which distinguishes going down Canton Street from the "long loop" which stays on 138 all the way to the 'pan before turning right on the parkway) for years. But I am not crazy about the climb up Unquity. The road is generally busy with speeding commuters in the evening, which makes it unpleasant. More than that though, much like Moose Hill proper, I find it hard to keep a good rhythm on it from top to bottom. It's not a hard climb, in fact it probably averages only 3-4%, depending on where you start and end your measuring. On a good day if I can power over the little pitches without bogging down, I won't dip much below 27 kph or so. Big ring. But it's just not the kind of hill that inspires me to push myself. The last pitch always seems to leave me ending my effort early rather than finishing it strong.

These days, I'm more likely to descend Unquity, then turn right up Hartland, climb to Hillside, and then continue back to close the loop either by just going straight, or turning left up Forest. We raced here back in the day, when it was called "Milton-Roubaix" as Hillside was totally bombed out at the time. When the BHCC revived the race a few years back, they used this loop, but went counter-clockwise for some reason, which I don't understand. The past few years they just used the short loop. Well, the Hartland loop is the shortest of all, but when I get out of work it's much quieter and I'll generally kill time doing circuits or figure 8's on it until a bit later in the evening when 138 and Canton Ave quiet down. Last night I did just that, and it's then I noted that Hartland can make a pretty good "one minute hill," although it is not that steep. And actually it takes around two minutes, but you can get efforts of any length up to that in.

I have been feeling like shit this week. I'm coming off a rest week, which was generally mismanaged with excess activity (working on the Merrimac race), not much sleep, trips to the pub, and no massages. I had been going really well up until Turtle Pond, and then the day after I did a proper "ramp down" ride at a snail's pace before taking three days completely off the bike. Thursday and Friday were hour rides at a gentle pace, and Saturday after working our race I actually got the Cronoman to do a coffee shop ride. Then Sunday we went out and probably went too friggin' hard, riding in a successful search for Hilljunkie's test climb, Chestnut Hill Road near Goffstown, NH (10:15 Doug; your record is in no danger). With minimal sleep and spotty nutrition for the two days prior, our hilly four-hour ride proved about two hours too long, and Sunday afternoon I was a wreck. Then Monday I worked and went to the Sox, getting home at 1 am. This is what the PROs do, right? Tuesday I rode easy for thirty minutes (yes, it is worth getting kitted up for that sometimes), leading me to last night.

In my mind, I should have been feeling better, but my legs felt smoked when in the saddle. Residual damage from Sunday? Who knows? But Big Blue was out of the question for me. Hence the one minute efforts. I had to do something, and standing/sprinting up climbs for one minute seemed like it might be tolerable. So after warming up and trying to open with a few modest efforts on Hartland, I crossed Rt 28 to try my personal favorite for uno minute tests, the forbidden Chickawtabut access road. Forbidden? Long time readers might recall this post. Well, the bird-watchers must really mean business now. The gate at the bottom was closed as usual. But now, instead of the little signs with a picture of a mountain bike with a red circle and X over it, they have two new signs. The first is a large one that says "no wheeled vehicles" with a picture of a bike on it. Seriously. The second says "vehicles by appointment only." This signage almost makes it appear that the dude I argued with was so flustered by my calling him out for driving his SUV to the summit, yet insisting that I not ride my bike up there, that they went out and had new signs made. This might require some activism, as I'm sure state highway funds are paying for the road maintenance. These fucks have their heads up their asses.

Anyhow, ignoring the signs, I went around the gate and hit the uber-steep upper portion of the climb, sprinting in my 39x23 until I blew, about forty meters short of the top gate, which was open. Figuring bird boy and company might be up there, I just left. Taking a right at the bottom, I remembered an even better sprinter's hill, the bottom of Chickatawbut that comes up from near Wood Road in Braintree. This is a nice straight section, about 350 meters long, with a very constant grade that I'd guess to be 7% or so. Perfect. I did two more efforts over there. The first I was under-geared and had to shift, but for the second I used a 39x14 and got in a full minute before blowing chunks. That one resulted in a power PR for all durations between 22 and 49 seconds, but I faded to 587 versus a PB of 605 (set last year on the audubon hill) for the full minute. Not great numbers for a 77 kg guy, but I'm old and not a sprinter, so fuck off. And I'll keep working on it. Now off to the day job. Thanks for reading.

No.Sleep.Till Merrimac!

2010-05-03T05:49:00.007-04:00

Photo courtesy of Garry Sansoucie

Race promotion. If you've never been involved in it, then you simply have no fucking idea how much work goes into planning and executing even the most seemingly insignificant events. At Team B.O.B., we're a pretty small group, less than thirty active members. Despite our tiny membership, we've managed to do our duty to help ensure the health of the sport, putting on several races in the past years. This weekend was our new date for the Wayne Elliot Memorial Circuit Race. Wayne was a Team B.O.B. member before my time with the club, and he was killed by a car while out training, just off the course for this year's race. Friday I learned that the tragic accident which took Wayne's life had happened right in front of a house where I lived during the time I was getting into cycling.

B.O.B. has put on the Workingman's Stage Race since the time I began competing in 1987. After Wayne's death, the club started a second annual race, a memorial criterium in a Haverhill industrial park. We ran that for several years, but eventually a large rehab hospital was sited in the park, and the increase in weekend traffic ruled out closing the roads for a crit. Last year, we tried a circuit race on the original WMSR TT course back in Plaistow, in conjunction with the town Olde Home Day celebration. That did not go so well, as traffic control challenges around the course overwhelmed our resources. Therefore, this year we came up with a the new course in Merrimac, and a new date in May due to the cancellation of the New England "monument," the Jiminy Peak road race.

Getting the first Saturday in May was a major coup for us. Racers are all gung-ho in the spring, and turnouts are much better than in the dog days of summer. But after last year, we had to make sure this went well. The six mile loop was mostly rural, but about 1/4 of it went right through thickly settled Merrimac. All race promotions are a ton of work, but doing a circuit in a suburban setting is trickier than an isolated crit or a road race in the boonies. And the down side of getting the first day in May is the race comes right in the thick of training season. Further still, our club is mostly family men, and school vacation comes the last weeks of April. Yeah, this would be fun.

Armand was the race director. In addition to training and racing, Armand works full-time as an engineer in the defense industry, has a wife and three children, including nine-year-old twins, and is starting a new business, building a low speed wind tunnel that is near completion. Obviously, with such a light schedule, he has a lot of spare time to fill up. Volunteering to be race director was a natural for him. Think about that next time you're at a race bitching that it's been 45 minutes since the race ended and you still haven't got your prize money, and you need to get going because you've got things to do. Especially if you ride for a club that has never put on an event, get it? Minor rant off.

Were I creative and witty, I'd have made this into rap lyrics to go with the song. Or at least written a coherent essay. But I'm neither. Mostly I'm just still a little tired. And my role was only to be marshal captain and a general helper. Me and Il Brucie, who drove a pace car all race day, headed up to the wind tunnel (race command headquarters) after work on Friday. We live an hour away, but there was bumper to bumper Friday night traffic, so it was more like two hours. We quickly ate on the way and reported for duty around 8:30 pm. Despite having worked on this for three weekends prior, as well as from the end of the workday Tuesday until midnight, there was still much to do. Signs to be painted, potholes to be patched (ok, some sections of the road were atrocious, we did all we could), envelopes to be stuffed with prize money, start lists to be published, radios to be checked, maps for marshals to be printed, sponsor banners to be hung, police to be made friendly and cooperative, ambulances to be arranged. It was all good. By 2:15 am we were all comfortably trying to sleep on the couches in Armand's house, and the alarm would not be going off until 4:30. Sweet. The first race didn't go off until 8:15. The morning would be SO relaxing. I'm almost 49, and this was the closest thing to an all-nighter I've done in a long time.

Cutting to the chase. The race went pretty well. The weather was good. Our volunteers turned out, including our six motos for securing the rolling enclosures. We also enlisted a radio service which proved immensely valuable. Special thanks to Mike Norton of team Cyclonauts for helping us out with that and a bunch of other details. Thanks to all the riders who turned out, even the ones who complained about stupid little stuff. But if you've never marshaled a corner, much less put on a race, and think your $30 entry fee gives you the right to be a pain in the ass, well, our sport deserves better. To ALL the clubs, teams, and individuals who do put in the effort to promote races for all of us to enjoy, thank you, and thanks for reading.

Yellow Line

2010-04-26T06:59:00.007-04:00

The racing season started for real on Saturday at the Turtle Pond Road Race in Loudon, NH. Promoted by the MetLife team, TP has been on the calendar for quite a few years now. I have never done particularly well there, but there's still a lot to like about this race. MetLife has always done a good job organizing, and the parcours is interesting, an 18k loop of rural NH roads, mostly rollers with one sizeable climb, where the finish used to be. The course layout has been changed around several times as those in charge searched for something to ease the logistical challenge of setting up a race staging location and a finish in an area that hasn't got much going on. Last year they added a second climb on a chicane-like "Hot Hole Pond" road, but it wasn't really safe to go racing through a popular fishing spot with cars parked on the shoulders, so that go nixed this year. The finish remained in the new location on the fastest part of the course though, rather than on the original big climb. We would do five laps, 90k. Got it?

Last year I elected to race with the 35+, as they go in the afternoon wave, but this year I got up at the ass-crack of dawn to make the 0910 start for the 45+ with six of my BOB teammates. We had four experienced all arounders, including myself, along with our chronically wounded but reliable sprinter/captain Duano, and two guys who had not raced very much at all in the past ten years, just coming in to get their feet wet again. The field would number around 60 starters, I think, with OA Cyclemania having about nine guys, many of whom are known to be very strong escape artists. There were also several dangerous men new to the 45+ group this year, like Thomas Francis (Bike Barn), Tobi Schultze (Fuji), and Fabio Piergentili and Peter Brennan (Galaxy). Sunapee had three or four guys too.

Hilljunkie already reported on his perspective of the race over on his blog. Let's just say he reads a race a lot differently than I do. But I think everyone could agree that OA was the team to watch here. Sixty is a lot for a masters race, but it's becoming more normal, and with almost ten guys and narrow roads like we have at TP, controlling a race was certainly possible for them. However, masters teams generally don't have an off the bike director, we don't have team follow cars, and even the pros aren't allowed radios anymore. Weird shit happening can usually be guaranteed...

And for me it did not take long. The first time up the hill is supposed to be neutral, as we start right at the bottom and they don't want everyone swarming the staging area an hour early like in cyclocross. So we're rolling up the hill and saying hello to one another and suddenly there is a bike stopped in the road. Some guy had dropped his chain, and instead of using his front derailleur to put it back on, or at least putting his hand up, he just stopped. I ran right into him and got knocked off my bike. After pausing to say a bit more than hello to him, I remounted and sprinted onto the back of the field, as the allegedly "neutral" pace was high enough to cause concern.

This put me solidly at the rear, and on the descent a trio of riders were already attacking the field. I knew one would be an OA, and I could see one in a plain blue jersey, but I did not know the other one was Schultze. On my team, we knew we did not have the horsepower to contain all the strong guys in the field. With the downhill finish, our best hope was to keep the race together and try to setup Duano. But there are ALWAYS breaks at Turtle Pond. Even I stayed out solo here for two laps a few years ago, but unfortunately they were not the last two laps. In hilly races, generally I judge it best to let a break go if it does not go on a hill, as anybody can get a gap when the field is not going hard on the flat parts. Turtle Pond is kind of an anomaly though, as the hill is not that big, and the entire course is rolling. Successful breaks can go anywhere. Still, we did not think OA would be content with just one guy out of their nine up the road, especially isolated against Tobi, who was the best sprinter in the field. As it turned out, they were OK with it, and their guy was Ron Bourgoin, who is also a fair sprinter. Never found out who the other guy was.

So within minutes of the race start, we have three guys riding away, eight remaining OA guys plus Tobi's teammate John Grenier patrolling the front, and the other fifty of us packed in behind with the stupid yellow line rule under which we race in the amateurs. At one point on the backside you can see about a minute ahead, and they already had almost that much. Still, I wasn't panicked, as (a) they did not go on the hill, (b) there was 80k to go, and (c) OA had to be planning on sending more riders across at some point.

When we hit the hill at the end of lap one/start of lap two, the officials gave the time split at 2:00! The follow car, who had been busy honking at us and screaming about yellow line violations (which are all occurring way up front out of their vocal range) is supposed to go with the break if the gap is one minute or more, but they were asleep at the wheel. So the guy guns it by on the climb. The good news is this effectively ends enforcement of the yellow line rule, and now we can actually race. Fabio immediately lit it up, taking several of us right around the OA gang-block that was soft-pedaling up the climb, and he kept it going, attempting to organize some chasing on the rolling descent. He and I initially took long pulls, and the Cronoman joined us, as did Leo Devellian (CCB). Eventually Dougie got in the line, but he sort of just rolled through. Francis was not doing anything, there were no Sunapees (weird, as normally they are the best organized of the masters teams in our area), and Grenier and OA were just sitting on us, of course. About halfway around me, Timmy, and Eric were getting gassed, and it was obvious that were this tempo setting successful, the real beneficiaries would be everyone but us. Counters would surely come on the climb and we'd all get popped. So I called timeout for our team.

Fabio seemed pissed, as he was the most determined motor up there. We were on mostly descending by then anyway, and I did not expect the break to be gaining more time. We had to wait for the hill and try to split the field, so that at least if we were working our asses off in a chase, we wouldn't be towing every swinging dick in the group. When we got to the line, the gap was announced as four minutes! I was deflated. I thought overall the field had ridden lap two at a decent clip, yet we still lost huge ground. At this point, at least OA might get back in the race, as they would have thought their guy was safe. As it turned out, he had some sort of problem and had dropped out of the break and the race, but this did not get communicated to them, so they were blocking for nothing. Maybe some of them knew, as leading into the climb Hank Pfeifle set a high pace. I came off his wheel on the steeper part and tried to force it further, hoping for a split. At the top on the little flat spot Dougie and two others came around and started riding, but Pfeifle sat up, took his hands off the bars, and turned around to check the gap. When he did, he swerved over about three feet, collecting Mark Suprenaut (Team Type 1) who was sprinting around to get with Doug, and John Grenier (Fuji) who was covering. Soups never had a chance, as this was not a swap of wheels, Pfeifle rode straight into Mark's handlebars. Soups and Grenier were out with bike and body damage, but Hank got up and rejoined. The field had been split on the climb, but the crash took any cohesion out of the front, and it quickly came back together.

I don't remember everything after that, but I think the next lap Francis took off on the climb and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He rode away solo. Several riders, including me, tried to get breaks going on the backside of the course. Mine got nowhere, but Fabio countered and Pfeifle went with him, and they rode away. So now it was Tobi at four minutes, not sure if the unknown guy was with him or not, then Francis, then Fabio and Pfeifle a minute ahead of the pack heading up the climb the final time. The top five paying spots were all gone and secure. As on every lap but the first, I was able to climb at the front with the good riders for the first time in years, but by now my legs were smoked and getting away was a pipe dream. Duano, our sprinter, had already dropped out due to pain from a lingering groin tear. Timmy attacked repeatedly on the last lap, at one point getting a promising gap, but he was pretty tanked too. I made a last gasp effort to bring back two OA guys going into the corner leading onto the finishing road, School Street, and that left me on the verge of cramping. From then on it was just try to stay out of trouble in the high speed sprint. I though Sunapee would set up a train, but they didn't. I followed Mark Thompson down the left, but he kept getting cut off by leadout riders riders swinging off. Devellian took the table scraps prize for sixth over Jay Carrington (Cyclonauts) and Billy.

I still like this race. I still dislike the yellow line rule, or the way it is implemented as a restriction, but not consistently enforced. Good officials in some areas allow riders to move up safely as needed, and I think that's the way it has to be, rather than playing roulette with being made an (rare) example of and DQ'd. The last four laps of this event we were able to move freely and it was a lot of fun. Turtle Pond would be better with the finish on the hill in my opinion, but at least our race was safe, other than the incident caused by momentary inattention of one rider. Me personally, even though I'd planned to delay my fitness progression by a month or so this season, I feel better on the bike than I have in years. I've gone back to a lot of my old training methods, doing off the bike training in the gym, lots of cruise intervals, not running at all, and doing 90% of my training by myself. I guess all the little things are adding up. Rest week now. Thanks for reading.

Winning

2010-04-18T19:26:00.006-04:00

15 years, 9 months, and 7 days. Prior to this past Saturday, July 10, 1994 was the last time I won a mass-start USCF race. Sure, I have won a few time trials, a duathlon overall, some running race age group stuff, and even two training races at Wompatuck to keep me motivated over the years, but a "real" weekend race win had eluded me. So naturally I'm pretty happy about winning the 45+ race at Ninigret this weekend.

The Cronoman gives me shit if I downplay the magnitude of races we do well in. But let's be realistic; Ninigret is only a notch or so above a training race. It's not like a downtown crit with lots of spectators that happens only once a year (as if we even have many of those left anymore). And the field Saturday was only 28 riders, about half what we had two weeks ago at the Chris Hinds race. The 45+ guys are fair weather I guess. A few of the strongest riders, notably Skip Foley and JONNY BOLD! elected not to race with us old derelicts, opting instead to do the more challenging 1/2/3 race. Nonetheless, the field was deep enough with high quality riders and this was a weekend race with prize money. It's a win, it counts to me. Ya-hoo!

The race report: This was the third time I've won a crit, and all of them have played out in similar fashion: fast early pace, a selection too big to be called a break moving off, and me slipping away from it in the waning laps to win alone. I guess that's my script. The last one back in 1994 was the Silver City Flyer. The other one was the Bike Link/Jiffy Lube Crit in Weymouth.

Just like those two, Saturday's race started out aggressively. Actually, this time I was the one who attacked at the gun. My reasoning was simple and two-pronged. One, keep warm. Two, if I didn't do it, someone else probably would. I'd had a good week of training, but Friday I was totally beat and just wanted to eat. I did not ride, did not stretch, did not go to the gym. I have been taking multi-week holidays from concentrated refined sugar, but Friday I hit the machine twice, once for Animal Crackers and once for a Hershey bar. Dinner was a grilled cheese. Not exactly training table food. I was weak.

Saturday was chilly but not as wet as forecast. Coach Cronoman was signed up for the 10:00 cat 3/4 race... The 45+ was at 11. I thought about going down early and warming up in the 3/4, so I pre-kitted with wool shorts, leg warmers, etc. But I did not get there in time, in fact I pulled in around 10:25, so I was pressed to be ready for the 45+. I almost just said f-it and pinned my number on my heavy jersey and went out there in warm clothes. Then I said to myself "you're never going to win that way." I put on my skinsuit, got on the trainer, doing the best warm up I could in the amount of time that I had. I knew I'd be cold in shorts when I stopped, so I decided right then to attack at the gun. One of the great things about Ninigret is you can park right near the starting line and hear the announcer. Paul was playing a fantastic selection of tunes as well, huge bonus. Thanks to Paul and thanks to Arc-en-Ciel for hiring him.

I rushed over to the line at the final call to staging and we observed a moment of silence in memory of the race's namesake, Rick Newhouse. Then we went. The only one who came with me was Dave Kellogg (Arc-en-Ciel), but the rest of the field was strung out, not just sitting there. Dave is on good form and I knew he was not going to commit to working hard with me unless he felt this was the right move, so I just kept pulling. I looked back and knew they weren't going to let us go but I persisted because I wanted to get warm, and also in hopes of wounding anyone who wasn't ready for a full gas start. But within a few laps we were reeled in.

Other moves went and I tried to sit on wheels. Eventually I could not and the Cronoman covered a few. I have trouble remembering the order of things but somewhere they announced there would be four prime laps in a row for Newport Storm beer. I sat on all the moves just in case they turned into breaks, but told myself "you are not here for beer." I really wanted a good placing, and wasn't going to chase primes. Then they had one for $20 cash, but that did not draw me out either. Like I said, I get the order messed up, but I was recovering near the back and the field basically split, with me and the Cronoman in the wrong half. I've been riding with Eric long enough to be able to tell when he's stuffed, and this was one of those times, so I bolted out to cross the gap. Very similar to Chris Hinds, although this time nobody came with me. It took me half a lap but I got cemented onto the group, and looking back it appeared that this was it. Two guys were struggling and disappeared. This left Kellogg, Thomas Francis (Bike Barn), Joe Rano (GearWorks), Bill Mark (NBX), John Stonebarger (Bike Link), Tobi Schultze (Fuji), Tyler Munroe (CCB), and me.

At halfway they had a $100 cash prime on offer. I was tempted, but before I really had time to think of a plan Tobi and Francis had us lined out at a speed which showed they meant business. I was riding my Race Lite Aero alloy wheels with clinchers pumped to 100 psi, on my cheap aluminum bike. After all, it's only Ninigret so I don't use my carbon wheels or frame. In the second to last corner there are a few big cracks that have been patched over and in the wet my back wheel was jumping over a good three or four inches if I went in there hot. Very disconcerting and the other guys seemed to be OK so it put me at a disadvantage, not that I can sprint well anyway. So those two rode off to contest the prime and I honestly don't know which one took it. And they kept going, holding a gap of at least ten seconds on the other six of us. By this time they were coming up on and lapping small groups that made up the shattered remnants of the main field. So even though these two were among the better sprinters in the lead group, they tried to hold us off, probably thinking they could get a little draft here and there from the lapped riders.

I had not been killing myself in the break, at first because I was recovering from the bridge effort, and later because the others were always positioning for primes and willing to do the effort. We were not under pressure from any chase behind either. But with Schultze and Francis riding away, I went to the front for some pacemaking to at least keep us level. Later we picked up a lapped Todd Buckley (Arc-en-Ciel) and of course being one of the the best motors in the field, he took his place at the front of the break and did the work for his teammate Kellogg. Eventually the lead duo threw up the white flag, but they probably spent more time out there in a wasted effort than they'd have liked.

Things got moderately confusing as we were lapping riders (who of course are entitled to integrate). By then race announcer Paul called out 5 laps to go. It got quiet but at 4 to go, Stonebarger and Rano made a move, but nobody was letting that happen. After a few more laps of shadow boxing we finally got the bell, one to go. I'd been looking for opportunities to get away but all these guys were good, and I wasn't sure what to do. And just like at Chris Hinds, I somehow ended up on the front as we took the bell. I did not want to have to follow the sprinter's pace through the second to last turn, as it was still wet and I was continuing to get squirrelly there. On the far end of the course, I was leading at a slow pace, like you would ride if you were on the front of a match sprint, except I wasn't looking over my shoulder. I went to the left (not normally the good line, but we were going slow) and gradually increased my pace in order to take away the jump of the others without totally gassing myself.

The backstretch was tailwind so I took it up another notch and I heard Paul Curley (Gearworks), who was lapped, on my wheel asking me if I was lapped. I glanced over my shoulder and was shocked to see that we had almost thirty meters on the other seven, who must have been watching each other. Time to check out. Full gas, tiptoed through the slippery turn, all out up the short straightway. On the homestretch I got to the far left edge (the wind was from the right) and emptied the tank. I'd looked back after the last turn and they were coming but my cushion was large. Paul just stayed on my wheel. At the end I sat down and spun for the line, getting in a second or two before Bill Mark sprinted across for second.

I'm still surprised they allowed me to slip away. But you know, that's bike racing. I've been on the other end of weird shit plenty of times too. And I was ready to take advantage of the situation. I am pretty happy with the way my form has been coming along. I try to continually refine and improve all aspects of my preparation, a lot of little things adding up. Sixteen years is a looooooonnnnnnnngggg time. I did not even own a computer back then. I think Winning magazine was still being published. Of course, I did not race hardly at all from 1998 to 2002. I was up over 200 pounds for a while. Since finishing night school in 2003, I've slowly and steadily worked my way back to decent fitness. I went back into my logs to find the date of the Silver City win. I sure as hell don't ride as fast as I used to, at least as far as the average speed of my training rides goes. But I've learned a lot. There is a lot more good information about training available today. I've also been fortunate to work with and train with a number of good people, both through friendship and professional arrangements. I've gone back to doing a lot of things that I used to do 16 years ago too, like more intense training off the bike. This goes against a lot of conventional wisdom, but I do it in addition to riding my bike, not in place of it. And it seems to work for me. It also meant a lot to me to finally win a race in a Team BOB jersey, in this my 7th year with the club. I have great teammates, including Eric and Timmy, who've been on all four teams I've ever belonged too, going back 24 years. Our team captain, Duano, could not be there Saturday because his mother had suffered a serious stroke and was hospitalized. I was relieved when he called me and told me she had improved a lot over the course of the day, and he was really psyched to hear about my win. It was too close to put my hands up, but I guess I should update the sidebar anyway. Thanks for reading.