Racing - CCAP Tuesday Night Crit - July 5, 2016, Shelled Hard, Tried to Lead Out a 24" Wheel Junior

Ah, the Tuesday Night Worlds. For me it's been a tough couple weeks so I didn't ride much. I did get a half hour in on Monday to loosen the legs, but before that I think I last rode Thursday.

In the meantime my Facebook feed has been full of reports of a number of the local Juniors that do the B Race placing at Nationals.

To top it off the ideal summer weather - 50s at night, 70s during the day - came to a crashing halt today. It was over 90 degrees and sort of humid after a morning shower.

Finally, I got my A1C follow up blood test done and it told me I need to be a bit more diligent about cutting carbs.

Basically I hadn't progressed any on the bike, there were a lot of strong riders out there, I felt a bit under fueled due to low carbs, and therefore tonight would be an exercise in damage control.

Close up during the neutral laps.

I like to do "best practice" stuff when I ride. So during the two warm up laps I tried to avoid the hoods. I'd ride the tops if I felt it safe enough to not have to brake suddenly. I rode the drops otherwise, because the drops offer the best control, best braking, most secure grip. This is if you can brake from the drops. I know that smaller handed riders may not be able to brake as well from the drops so there are exceptions, but for me the drops are my hand position of choice.

In the third turn, if things looked okay, I tried to ride close to whoever was on my inside. I didn't want to spook them so I'd ride a bit behind, but basically it was practicing cornering in a tight field.

Neutral laps over and we got under way.

A big field.

There was a decent size group taking to the start. However some of the aforementioned strong Juniors started punching away at the pedals and the group started to split apart.

First gap that I closed.

One big gap opened up right away. I debated sitting and sort of keeping an eye out for struggling riders in the field. Then I realized that I was one of the struggling riders. So I made a somewhat impromptu decision to first make the first group, then worry about helping others.

I went to bridge the gap.

Not very hard, just sort of rolled across it.

I couldn't recover well though and when the others started upping the pace a bit, not even really attacking, I couldn't stay hooked on.

Getting shelled hard.

I looked back and realized that the field had really split apart. I didn't have a group to fall back into, there were two or three groups already with a bunch of individual riders scattered around the course. I decided to soft pedal for a while until I felt a bit better, then I'd look around and see what I could do.

A nice benefit to my "solo training ride at about 15 mph" was that I could wave to Junior virtually every lap. It crushes him when he waves or yells and I don't acknowledge him so to be able to see his face light up as he realizes I'm waving to him... it's worth not being in the field.

Junior waving (he's in the little chair)

At some point I jumped in one group but couldn't really do much. I pulled off and pulled myself out of that group.

This 24" Wheel Junior caught my eye.

A slightly more relaxed group rolled by, a Junior on a 24" wheel bike pedaling furiously at the back of the line. I accelerated to see if he needed a hand but he closed the first gap pretty quickly. Entering the next turn a gap opened again.

He closed that gap on his own.

Note the very low position.

And again he closed it.

I don't fault him for cornering poorly. It appeared that even without braking, even with him getting low on the bike, he simply didn't coast as fast. Whether it was the 24" wheels (and their inherently reduced inertia), the different rolling resistance (24" tires have higher rolling resistance), his light weight (less inertia/momentum), I don't know. Whatever, a gap would open at each corner and he'd close it after a brief struggle. This happened in every corner.

Drafting closely and on the correct side (left side at this part of the course).

What impressed me even more is that he seemed to have an instinct for Wind Management. He stayed to the right coming out of Turn Three but then ended up more to the left as we hit the start/finish. During the race I watched a lot of adult riders not get this at all. Here was a kid, if you will, who seemed to get it automatically.

Because of those two factors I left him alone. No helpful pushes, just a little protection from the wind once, but otherwise I let him do his thing. At some point when I rolled by him he seemed to drop off. I figured he'd exhausted himself closing all those gaps.

I initially thought I'd sprint at 2 to go, so I'd "cross the line" at the bell, but then I thought that's a bit selfish. I'd rather contribute to the group. I was at least a lap or two down on some of these riders so I decided to do a somewhat laid back leadout. I could act as the moto, everyone could follow, and there'd be a fun sprint.

I rolled to the front just before the bell. When I checked back I was pleasantly surprised to see the 24" wheeled Junior sitting right behind me.

I put my hands on the hoods and tried to make myself wider. From my own experience I know that drafting a tall person changes the drafting dynamics compared to drafting a shorter person. When I draft a tall person I'm behind their knees - it's not much of a draft. I understood that sitting up really high doesn't help. What I needed to do was to make my torso as un-aero as possible. Hoods were high enough, I spread my elbows, and pedaled a steady  pace.

Looking back to make sure the Junior is on my wheel.

I had to look between my legs as I couldn't see him if I looked over a shoulder.

My HR is 166 bpm - I'm pretty much blown.

Even with this "mellow" leadout I was starting to suffer. I tried not to push too hard and I eased as I came out of Turn One, knowing the Junior would lose a few feet. I looked down just in time to see his wheels veer to the side - he'd pulled out of line.

I looked back because the Junior sat up and moved over.

He's behind the older Junior who is telling me to go, go, go.

I looked back but he seemed to be done. The Junior in front of him told me to go, to jump, to sprint. I think everyone was trying to be helpful to one another no one was actually trying to win.

I looked at the gap to the next rider, the speed that they were going, and decided to do a jump on the backstretch. I'd sit up at Turn Three and see what happened after. The group had disintegrated - I think my pull wasn't really constructive so next time I'll do it a bit slower - and the riders went by one by one.

Junior (our Junior) after I rolled up.

I rolled up to Junior who is an absolute chatterbox right now. He started asking me about this and that, started talking about that and this, and generally jabbered for a minute or two. The crazy thing is that I understand it all, all the subject changes, all the random idea injections.

He's telling me about everything - he's in the Narrative Phase.

Squeezing the brake lever, sort of. It's not just adults that do it instinctively.

He wanted to help me walk the bike back to the car, or, rather, I'd help him walk the bike back to the car. He pointed out all sorts of things as I packed the bike away, didn't run into the street, and basically was a good kid.

On the way to the car I'd spotted the 24" wheeled Junior. He was there with his dad at the very least and I wanted to let the Junior know something important. My Junior and I walked over to the car.

I asked the adult racer (he was in the B race also) if the Junior was his son. He nodded affirmatively. I addressed the Junior, because I wanted to make see if he'd blown up or if he pulled off because he didn't want to get in the way.

"I tried to lead you out on the last lap. I was really surprised that you were on my wheel but you were riding really strongly before. I wanted to ask you - when you pulled off on the last lap were you done? Or did you pull off because you didn't want to get in the way?"

The Junior was nodding before I finished.

"You were done?"

Nod.

"Okay. Because I wanted to make sure you understand that if you're on a wheel you earned your spot. You have every right to be on the wheel. You don't need to give it to anyone. It's your wheel. You understand?"

Nod.

"Okay. Well if I'm at the front at the bell it means I'm not sprinting. It means that if you want a leadout you should get on my wheel. Right?"

Grin. Nod.

The dad and I talked briefly and then (my) Junior and I left to get my Pops.

(As a side note - I said something that wasn't quite accurate to the dad. When I started racing I was a featherweight. Even so I couldn't climb, I couldn't time trial, and I could sprint. My cycling physiology tendencies were already very clear. However I said that "even so" I could hit 42 mph from a standing start in one gear. I realized after the fact that I didn't even know I could sprint until I'd been racing maybe three years. By then I was closer to 100 lbs rather than 90 lbs. At 103 lbs, 17 years old, I could do a standing start, one gear (53x12), and hit 42 mph consistently. It was a Steve Bauer training thing so I did it because Steve Bauer. But when I started at 15, at probably 90 lbs, I didn't have much data in terms of top speeds in sprints and such. I hit 30 mph sprinting up a short hill a few driveways down from the house - I knew that because my mom was just behind me and noting my speed. But other than that I didn't have a lot of data for the first few years I raced. I wanted to clarify that.)

*edit update: the 24" Wheel Junior got the bronze at Nationals just a short time ago. Apparently he is quite strong, I had no idea.

Promoting - 2014 Circuit Francis J Clarke

Ah. Second last Bethel for 2014. It seems like just last week that I was frantically ordering numbers, gambling that the race would happen. Now it's almost done and things seem much more calm.

Saturday I really pushed Junior's limits by making a long trip with the idea of storing stuff in the trailer and not having to bring them down next week, the last week of the Series.

I started by loading the T-shirts into the car - that took up the front seat, one side of the child seat, the foot area of the backseat, and one box in the trunk. I got Junior in the packed car, loaded up the car with distraction stuff, and set off.

The box next to him acted as a shelf so he left his Horsey and blanket up there. Normally I'd be contorting to reach them after he dropped them but this time I didn't have to contort too many times.

We headed down to pick up the trophies from Crown Trophy in Brookefield. I've been using them since the very beginning and they've been very good to me. This year I ordered the trophies before the end of the Series so that was good - they didn't have to scramble to make them.

I got there about an hour before they closed - 1 PM - and the trophies fit in the back of the Jetta just fine. I headed to the trailer to drop everything off. Because Junior was out of "getting into the child seat" cycles I left him in the seat while I quickly threw everything into the side door of the trailer.

Then without any further ado I headed home.

Where I'd basically pack up the Expedition and do the same 90 minute drive back. My phone died on the way down, the charger sometimes does something and then the phone just turns off when it has 0% battery. This has only happened once or twice but of course it had to happen the night before Bethel.

I got to my dad's sort of late. My brother greeted me in the driveway, waving a flash light.

What?

I rolled down the window after my brain went through a few scenarios. The one I came up with wasn't good.

"Is the power out?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"I tried to call you."

"My phone died on the way here."

"I left you a message." My brother paused. "Do you have any gas?"

Yes I did.

We got the big generator going, the house felt normal (except for the generator running outside), and I ate dinner and plugged stuff in. My big worry was my phone, which is also my alarm clock.

The power went back on a while later and things seemed fine. I didn't get to sleep until just a bit past midnight.

The next morning I snoozed my optimistic 4:30 AM wake up, reset it for 5:00 AM, snoozed it for 5:05 AM, then finally got up. I was looking forward to this day as it was supposed to be pretty warm.

I got in the Expedition.

27 degrees F.

What?

I realized I hadn't bought the little propane tanks for the small heaters. It'd be cold in the trailer today. Ugh.

Trailer selfie.

I kept wanting to take a trailer selfie in the mirror building and finally managed to do it. It's early in the morning, about 6:15 AM, so I was comfortable with taking the selfie in terms of the whole "not focused on driving" bit. I wanted to get one when it was dark and the running lights made for a cool "Mac the truck from Cars" effect, but now it's too light.

I should point out that I ended up well over the yellow line doing it and I would have sworn I didn't move more than a foot off my line. Distracted driving is stupid driving.

We were short a number of helpers so the set up took a bit longer than normal. There were no bake sales, no free food guys, so it was just the table for release forms. No biggie and we got things up and running okay. Mike the camera guy was there so he got his stuff set up fine.

Cat 5 field

I was trying to help out a Junior in his first race ever. This is a good shot of him just in front of the field.

Another Junior

With my Junior (meaning our son) I've taken more of an interest in Junior racing. I realize things about being a parent that I simply couldn't know before. It's changed a lot of the way I approach and think about things, both promoting and not. In the promoting sense I realized that having Junior races is important, regardless of the length or fanciness of the race. It should be low buck for grassroots promoters.

Someone asked me if the Juniors get anything. I shook my head to the negative. He said that that was good. I told him that I figure a $5 entry fee and no "everyone's a winner" makes for a good thing. $3 goes to USAC for insurance so it's not like the promoter is getting much, and the extra $2 is really so we don't have to get as many singles. It costs more to hold the race than the entry but that's okay. When I figure out the costs I might adjust the price up but suffice it to say that the Junior entry fees didn't pay for the registration staff for 30 minutes, that's for sure.

However, for promoting I've realized that the extra half hour is not much to give when it benefits the future of cycling. Giving the Juniors, and really it's the kids, allows them to participate for real. It makes bike racing real, just like becoming a parent makes parenting real (versus just babysitting).

Of course I have the luxury of saying this because time at Bethel isn't that expensive, and it's open ended in terms of time. I don't have to vacate the course by a certain time like a downtown race would have to do.

Moto ref.

I learned that about 30 moto refs got their special moto ref licenses recently. They all need practice so we had one for a few of the races today. It was great having him out there, it really helped tame the whole "Yellow line rule!" screaming that happens on the other side of the course.

I also think the moto ref encouraged folks to race a bit more. I don't know if that's valid or not but it seemed that things were a bit more active. Maybe it was the sun, who knows, but I will seriously consider a moto ref going forward.

By the time the Masters were racing the temperatures had climbed into the mid-upper 40s. It still felt cold in the trailer, with no sun warming up the inside, but outside it was pretty warm when the wind didn't strip the heat out from around you. I saw some shorts in the Masters race.

The Intersection

The intersection, with the maximum number of cars I saw today. I was so shocked at how many cars were there that I snapped this shot. You can see that there aren't that many cars. The consistent stream of vehicles makes it tough though. John, our guy working with the police, has been exceptional at Turn One, and he's a key reason the race worked this year. He even sacrificed racing so that he could work the turn - he put working the Series ahead of racing. That's dedication.

Note that it must be warm - one girl has short sleeves.

Here's that kid thing again. One of the guys in the 3-4 race is here talking with his (?) kids. The idea that the girls are here for the bike race is great. To them a bike race is one of those things that happens on Sunday, just like Monday they go to school. Kids that grow up with this kind of exposure to racing will think it natural to jump in one of those races when they get a bit older.

The races went smoothly today, mainly because of the reduced field sizes and the warmer weather. There was a half marathon in town today that went straight by the course entrance so traffic seemed much reduced. The Masters took the brunt of the traffic hit, stopping for 15-20 minutes here and there, so the officials delayed the Masters race 15 minutes. With the normal 20-30 minute dead spot after the Masters we could still keep the last two races on time.

I think the warmer weather helped also because the main traffic generator, an indoor trampoline place, would likely get less traffic when the weather ended up nice. It was a nice enough day, at least relative to our winter, so maybe a lot of kids did other things instead. The idea generated some hope in me that things would stabilize or be okay enough to hold races here in 2015.

We did have way fewer staff than normal, with one family at Battenkill. The son won the Junior 17-18 race so obviously the trip was worth it, and we'll be glad to have them back next week.

With one replacement staff things were a bit tight but enough volunteers filled out the ranks and the races went pretty smoothly. No one yelled at me so that was a good thing.

With the last race of the Series this Sunday a lot of us have hit the beginning of the closure feelings.

"Oh, it'll be the last Bethel next week."

It's pretty amazing how it seems so stressful and tough in January and by April things have mellowed out. For now, though, it's like what some of the GC leading racers have said to me.

"People are telling me I have it all wrapped up but that's not true. I'm a flat tire, a crash, a sickness away from losing the Jersey. I have to race every week 100% because I have no idea what'll happen the week after."

Likewise promoting the races comes first. I have to focus on the logistics, the planning, the various stuff I need to get in place for the last race. So that's this week. Next week, after the last race, that's when I can finally relax.

We packed up everything at the end of the day Sunday and I headed home. I felt pretty warm and took my hoodie off.

As I drove I felt some discomfort on my lip. I wasn't sure what it was - an abrasion? Did I scrape my lip on something?

A few seconds later it dawned on me.

My lip was sunburned.

I looked in the mirror. I could see some pink in my cheeks, my forehead, and above my lip.

It had been sunny today.

I got too much sun.

It must be near the end of the Series.

I cracked the windows open, letting in the air, ventilating the cabin.

It felt like summer was almost here.

Almost.

Promoting - 2014 Bethel CDR Gold Race

Promoting always starts a few days before the race. I mean, okay, it starts months before, but the final stuff can't even start until pre-registration is closed.

Last week I drove the trailer home so that I could work on it. Unfortunately the reality is that since I don't park the trailer at the house.

Since I can't work on it when Junior is around I had all of maybe four or five hours to work on stuff, while he was at day care. To make things a bit more awkward I can't get the trailer to our garage due to the steep driveway so I walked everything up the driveway. I spent most of that time emptying out the snow-related stuff, some wood that I realistically won't be using immediately, and organizing the remaining stuff to correct the weight distribution. I spent my free Tuesday afternoon doing that stuff.

I started working on making the folding tables for inside the trailer but gave up when I realized that time-wise it simply wasn't going to happen.

Thursday I did manage to get a few things done. I installed a bracket for the fire extinguisher (right of the door when you step into the trailer), I got a little tool box to screw into the floor to hold the generator accessories, and I started putting up wood on the walls for the tables. I also got some curtain rods up but they seemed way too flimsy for holding up a windproof barrier, so for now they're bare.

I wanted to get some stuff from the storage bay but that meant backing up a 100 yard curving driveway, something I can't do yet with the big trailer, at least not proficiently. Loading up the stuff for Bethel ended up with me spending a good 30 minutes backing up the trailer a few agonizing feet at a time. I decided I had to practice with a little car and trailer, like a Matchbox set, to prepare for the real thing.

Therefore I walked a few of the things I needed from storage to the trailer.

That finished my Thursday.

One of the staff volunteered to sort the pre-reg release forms and numbers so I gladly gave up that job, my normal Friday evening. The Missus called her Victoria at some point so I started calling her that also, leading me to call her Victoria on Sunday.

Which is not her name.

Oops.

Instead of doing pre-reg stuff I spent the time updating the magical spreadsheet to reflect the additional Junior race. I had most of it in place but I wanted to make sure that things were set up properly.

Saturday, traditionally the day I did Bethel stuff, ended up a bit less productive. I started working on the tables again, realized that I really ought to get to Bethel and drop the trailer off first, and headed down. The gusty wind really played with the trailer which in turn played with my mind.

Just before Bethel (actually the Danbury exit that I take that leads to Bethel) a modded Lancer Evolution burbled by me. I noticed it because, well, because I did, but thought nothing else of it since the driver seemed normal and competent.

A few minutes later traffic suddenly came to a halt. We creeped forward until we came across two cars that had obviously tangled with either each other and/or the Jersey barrier median. The Evolution driver, whose car seemed unharmed, was setting out flares. People were walking or standing on the left shoulder and one guy ran across the highway in front of me.

I thought that, wow, if I'd been a mile or two earlier I could have been in the middle of that. With a car, okay, but with a large trailer it would have been ugly.

Once at Bethel I worked on the tables (are you sensing a theme?) until about 8 PM or so, gave up again before I could finish, and headed over to my dad's.

I first stopped for some Coke and cookies. For some reason this last week or so I've been really craving Coke, and even drank it with my dinner at my dad's. My brother pointed out that I'd be awake for a while, but when I went upstairs I lay down and realized I only had a minute or two before I'd be unconscious. I turned off the light and that was that.

The alarm startled me awake at 5 AM. I was happy I set it earlier in the day on Saturday because I totally forgot about it Saturday night.

Sunday we missed out on the temperature lottery again. I don't remember how cold it was but it was something like 30 degrees, cold enough to make my hands go numb, cold enough that my legs really never felt warm. Initially the wind stayed calm but as the day went on it really picked up.

The big changes for the Bethel CDR Gold Race versus the previous weeks were the following:
 - CCAP High School Race added to the schedule.
 - Powerbar would have a tent set up.
 - Moment of silence for Markus before the Cat 4 race.

The emptier trailer made for a better registration set up but I forgot on my two free afternoons to get propane for the tanks - we had only the smaller heaters in the trailer, not the larger one.

On the other hand I found all the stuff to hook up the generators in parallel. After thinking about it a bit, though, I decided to leave the single generator for the trailer. We don't need 3200 watts for the trailer and to do the parallel hook up I'd need a screw driver, I'd risk ripping the cord if I moved the generator without remembering to remove it, etc.

I think I need to make a little trailer for the generators so we can move them in tandem, we can keep the parallel cables in place, and we won't accidentally rip the parallel cables off by picking up just one generator.

I spent some time on the course taking pictures between handling the various promoter issues I needed to handle. These include questions on the races, comments and suggestions, instructing the new-to-the-race-series police officers, trying to keep the promised areas clear, speaking with local tenants, organizing the various tents, replacing wonky radios, and stuff like that.

The Junior race was really good at so many levels. The older Juniors were intent on helping and encouraging the younger ones, so much so that the best riders were at the back sometimes literally pushing the youngest Juniors.

The competitive ones.

One CCAP rider helping one of the younger riders.

This was the first chase group, if you will.

Another rider receiving help from two CCAP riders and his older brother.

An encouraging look.

One of the actual attacks of the competitive group.

The four rider chase.

The sprint for the win.

The second chase finishes.

The Cat 5s were next, followed by the 4s. This marks the second anniversary of Markus's passing and the Pawling Cycle guys said some words and the field had a moment of silence. You'd think that all these racers were hard core tough dealing with the weather and such but you could see that some of them had, ahem, some early spring allergies. Or something.

Cat 4 field, Rob from Pawling saying a few words.

The Markus Memorial.

The women's race had an impressive number of riders with a slew of well represented teams. It was great to see the camaraderie amongst the women before and after the races.

Registration.

One of the early attacks.

The field getting into action.

Post race huddle.

More post race huddling.

Happy team.

I'm happy with the Women and Junior races. For all my complaining about various things relating to promoting, it's the emotions that I feel when I see the Juniors or the Women racing that help ease those complaints.

After my race I sat out the P123 race in order to start breaking down. In the past I'd do the P123 race and then help break down stuff. This year, with little fitness, with a lot to do to break down, I haven't even bothered putting myself in for the P123 races.

The worst part of the day was the prolonged P123 protest period. The race is tough on everyone, the racers (intentionally) as well as the race staff. The results were changed a few times and finally the remaining hardy souls and the official hammered out the details on who placed where on what lap. Since I wasn't in the race and didn't even watch it I can't comment on what happened but it was a bummer since a number of the race shakers and bakers left before the results were finalized.

I left the trailer behind this week, realizing that I won't be getting much done in it if I took it to its home base. This naturally allowed me to drive home as quickly as I dared. Unfortunately when I got home I missed seeing Junior as he was already asleep. The huge thing for me has become not seeing Junior, not being able to share the race stuff with him.

With some tasks that I really needed to get done before I went to bed I set about posting the results. I uploaded the 200-odd pictures, doing some very rough picking (horribly out of focus shots got ditched as well as the photo bomb arm-back-shoulder in the way ones). I couldn't get done before 11 PM and by then I realized I was so fuzzy headed I had to get to bed.

On that note the fourth week of the Series finished up. It seems like just yesterday that I was stressing about the first week, that we had the rental trailer. Now the stresses are a bit less severe, my back isn't killing me, and the whole process seems to be running a bit more smoothly. There are always problems, else I wouldn't have to even go to the race, but now they seem a bit more manageable.

My big hope is that the Junior turnout increases for next week. I've had two people already contact me about bringing a couple Juniors to the race, one disappointed dad was late for this last week's race, so with those folks in mind I hope that we have a 20 rider Junior field.

It sounds a bit sad, to be excited about a 20 rider Junior field, but right now that's the state of Junior cycling. That's why CCAP is so important. And that's why we're basically giving away a 30 minute slot to the Juniors, to try and get the kids to give this sport a try.

Racing - 2013 Aetna CCAP Hartford Criterium Cat 3-4

Saturday during the Aetna Silk City Cross Race I kept checking the weather. Rain until noon or so on Sunday, maybe 1 PM, maybe 2 PM, but that was that.

The Cat 3-4 race in Hartford, scheduled for 10:15 AM, didn't look likely. I didn't want to risk racing a technical circuit in the rain, and I thought about, and decided against, doing the 3:30 PM P-1-2-3 race. I felt it so unlikely that I'd race that I didn't bother doing a short spin on the bike, I didn't pack my gear bag, I didn't do anything to prepare for a race the next day.

Sunday morning I briefly woke up when Junior got up earlier than normal, maybe 5 AM. I fell back asleep, still tired from the long day at the cross race.

Then, having drifted back into a semi-conscious state, the Missus woke me up with an alarming voice.

"You have to get up now!"

My first thought was that Junior was choking on phlegm (he's teething and coughing up a bunch of the stuff). I sprang awake, hurried to get to where ever the Missus was, and hollered out what was wrong.

"It's clear outside. You're going to race today! We have to get ready!"

Oh.

Well now.

I checked on Junior just to make sure that he wasn't choking on phlegm because the thought still stuck in my mind. He wasn't. Then we set about trying to get ready to go within the hour. Since it takes me 45 minutes to get out the door with Junior, an hour to get Junior and my bike stuff would be cutting it close.

I started making the various trips to the car, Junior wanting to join me. Since I don't leave every morning he got pretty agitated watching me go out into the garage without him. The Missus corralled him, distracted him, and I could make the trips to the car. I got the race wheels, bike (it was in the office), gear bag (ditto), clothing (laundry room), helmet (on a credenza - I plugged it into a USB port in the car because I couldn't remember when I last charged it), SRM (table), HR belt (desk), shoes (office), gloves (desk), a couple bottles (not insulated due to the cool temperatures), so on and so forth.

The Missus got Junior's bag together, we got in the car, and we were off at 8:30 or so, literally an hour after I thought Junior was choking on phlegm.

We got a bit lost in Hartford but we used the "where are we" GPS powered map on the phone and navigated by feel (i.e. compass direction) to the parking lot.

"Isn't it the lot by Black Eyed Susan's? Where we ate that one time?"

"Black Eye Sally's"

"Right, Sally's."

When we pulled into the lot I looked around.

"Hey! There's Black Eyed Susan!"

"Black Eye Sally's"

"Right."

I got dressed and went to find registration. Thumping music drew me across the street. I saw a huge tent marked "Registration" but when I turned the corner to enter the tent I didn't see any bikes. I looked around for a bit then went to the tent marked "Information". I knew something wasn't right because, first off, there were too many tents with too many signs. And second, I didn't see a single bike.

At the Information Tent I asked where the bike race registration was.

"You're not doing the Walk?"

Oh. Wrong event.

I tried a different tact.

"Where's Asylum (Avenue)?"

Three people pointed in three different directions.

"Over there." "There." "I think it's that way."

"Thanks!"

I headed over in the direction of the average of the three directions. Less people. Not good. I turned around and headed over for some police officers.

"Hi."

"Hey, how you doin'?"

"Good, you?"

"Good."

Politeness out of the way I got down to business.

"You guys know where the bike race is?"

"You mean there?"

The office pointed about 50 yards up the road. I saw orange metal crowd control barriers and racers zipping by.

"Yeah, that'd be the one. Thanks."

I left the officers shaking their heads. Sorry bike racers visiting Hartford, I made us look bad.

(If you look at my Strava data you'll see all the meandering - I turned on Strava at the car so I could put my gloves on earlier than later.)

I found registration, got a number, and then set out to find a bathroom. I saw a bazillion of them at the Walk but none around here. After a few laps of the course I realized that, yeah, just on bathroom. I didn't know about the Home Suite bathrooms, the nice indoor ones. As sponsors they opened their bathrooms to the racers.

I headed to the Walk, used one of their basically "just cleaned" portapotties, and headed back. I did a few more laps on the course - the first turn (a right hand turn) really made me feel sketchy, the wet pavement, significant crown, and my front wheel catching the gust of wind combining to make the bike go left.

I needed to get my heart rate up and then back down since I didn't ride yesterday. I figured on this next lap I'd make a huge effort. 5 or 10 minutes to go, plenty of time.

I rounded the last turn and an official was waving us all over. They were shutting down the course to do the staging for our race.

So much for my big effort.

My race... there isn't much to tell. I started at the back, the first right turn wasn't fun, I couldn't make up that much ground without going into the red, and in the course of moving up I blew up. It sounds like that took place over 15 or 30 minutes but that all took about two laps.

Lining up.

Sean, who sort of accidentally got 4th in the 4-5 race, is a friend and former teammate from a long time ago. He's to the left, in the Pawling colors. I told him the first turn made me a bit sketchy so he half-seriously asked that I stay to his outside. I moved to the other side of the road before the start so I'd hit the turn slower than if I was on the outside.

The cornering wasn't great in the field. I don't think I was good either, but there were others way worse than me. I did what I could to move up but it was hard on me. 

The closest I got to the front.

If I had some fitness I'd have been okay. I got to about 20-25th spot, give or take, and at that point I should have been okay. In the old days these kinds of tough, technical, attrition crits were my favorite. They hurt like mad, they were super hard, but if 20 guys finished a hard crit I'd be in there (in 17th or something, but still). I remember a few races where this stuff happened. In one race, out of 127 starters, there were 13 finishers (I was 12th but got the only money prime); another had 125 starters, 14 finishers, I was 8th or so (and got every money prime - no placing money due to the rules); yet another 125 starters, 24 finishers, I was 22nd or so (20 places for money but I got gapped on the last lap - that was an 8 corner course on a half mile - half the length of this race - and it was pouring rain the whole time).

Without an elastic heart rate (that, for me right now, comes with fitness, a spin the day before, and an effort or three just before the race) I couldn't go into the red zone, for me that would be anything over about 158 bpm. I don't have super high heart rates anyway, with 175 about my max, but I spend a lot of time in the 164-168 bpm zone. With a capped heart rate I was doomed.

(Note: I have yet to check the SRM data so I'm just theorizing here on my HR - I don't look at the SRM until I download the data. I'm not letting a number on a cyclometer limit my riding/racing.)

My bike after I stopped.

Once I blew I did much of the lap slowly then got on the sidewalk on the final straight. I headed for the Missus and Junior. She'd seen my throat-cutting motion a couple laps earlier (I made the motion when I knew my fate) so she expected to see me pretty quickly.

Junior was a bit puzzled by my appearance.

You can see some stragglers flying past the barriers.

I was out of the race in four laps. I was fine by the time I rolled onto the sidewalk but that was obviously too late. Next time, next year. My mantra for 2013.

CCAP banner in the sky!

As we got ready to go home after my race a plane slowly flew overhead. A CCAP banner! Junior loved it. "A dieu" which is what he says when he sees a plane.

My number after a few laps of use.

Long finger gloves for safety.

Any wrinkling was from me taking the jersey off. I did the same number of laps in warm up as I did in the race.

Tegaderm

I saw one of my teammates, Heavy D. An eternal optimist, super outgoing, super supportive, he had just a 99% grin on his face instead of 100%. I wasn't sure what was wrong but he wasn't himself. I found out from someone else that he'd hit the deck in the first race, when it was still really wet on the course.

I saw him again and asked him if he had Tegaderm and such, if he knew about road rash. He's a former motorcycle racer guy so I figured he knew about this kind of stuff. He admitted he didn't know much about road rash - his knowledge was more about dislocated joints and such.

Right. Motorcycles weigh hundreds of pounds, not tens of pounds.

I went into my road rash spiel. He told me his significant other had gone to get Tegaderm. I told him I'd give him some that I had in the car. I went through the road rash care steps with him, cut up a bunch of Tegaderm (I buy it in 100+ sheet rolls, for Bethel, and it costs about the same as buying 12 sheets at CVS), and sent him on his way.

Just in case you need a refresher the road rash guides are here (not illustrated), here (illustrated and a bit gross), and some before/after here (illustrated and not very gross). Most regular road rash will skin over in 4-5 days if you take care of it right. In fact it will heal quicker than a little scratch on your hand or whatever.

With that we headed home. Junior was missing his morning nap and was an absolute wreck. He was so tired that we could transfer him from car to crib without him complaining, one of maybe three or four times that's happened (and usually well into the night, like 1 AM or something, not noon).

He slept for two hours, a very long nap for him and indicative of just how exhausted he was. We took the time to settle down, unpack the bike race stuff, and I tried to get some of the data off all my devices and onto the computer or into the intraweb.

When Junior woke up we changed him, dressed him, put him in the car, and headed back. We'd get there just in time to see the Juniors finish their race.

"Our" parking lot was a pay-by-license-plate-for-24-hours so we drove in and parked "for free" since we'd already paid until the next day. We got out of the car, walked toward the race instead of the Walk, and saw the Juniors zip by.

Junior Triumph

I went specifically to watch one Junior race but I didn't see him. I have to find out if he started and had a problem, or if he was a no show. Disappointed not to see him we decided to watch the rest of the race. The Juniors had all levels of racers, from kids on 3-speeds, kids on bikes way too small, really young kids, to about 6 kids that were riding like Cat 2s or 3s.

I didn't get shots of it and now I regret it but during the Junior race I watched a real class act. The Farm Team had three riders in the field, two of them super strong and clearly superior to the rest of the field (the third was a much younger rider and although the two older kids eased a bit when they lapped the younger one they had to keep going eventually). The two ended up alone, time trialing together off the front.

The Missus and I watched the pair. I sort of knew one of them, the older of the two at 17. The two had lapped virtually all the field save a couple riders, and in the closing laps they shed one lapped rider that had managed to stay with them.

As they hit the bell I wondered out loud how the finish would work out. Two teammates, one stronger than the other. The older one I think will be a Senior next year so this would be his last year as a Junior. It would be understandable if he took the win - he was stronger, this was his last year, and he'd done a lot of work.

I briefly contemplated the idea that he'd let his teammate win, but I didn't give him enough credit to do that. Such a prestigious race, his last year as a Junior, of course he'd want to take the win.

Sure enough, on the last lap, he dug a bit deeper and opened a tiny gap to his teammate. It was only a length or so but it was in stark contrast to the precision formation flying they'd been doing until that point.

Even as they rounded the third last corner, visible from where we stood in the middle of the figure 8 course, he'd maintained that slight gap. He was working super hard, emptying the tank on this last lap, and his teammate looked to be struggling to hold onto his wheel. The older rider rounded the last turn in the lead, that same gap there, still working hard, determination etched on his face.

Then he sat up and looked back. I didn't take pictures as they were too far away but you could see the gestures he made to his teammate.

"Come on up. Yeah, come on."

They soft pedaled down to the line, the stronger lead rider obviously sitting up, the second rider gaining rapidly without even trying.

They cross the line not quite side by side, the win officially going to the teammate. The older, stronger, and wiser rider had given away a chance for glory to help his teammate take a huge win.

Although I feel impressed when I see a rider do incredible tricks on the bike, although I am in awe of the mountain bike downhillers, that was nothing compared to the pride I felt for the 17 year old. I've watched him beat me, he's won at least a few of the Tuesday Night Worlds, but this move was by far the most impressive. His class, his humility, his respect for his teammate... Incredible.

He showed wisdom far beyond his years. As a new dad I struggle with how I'd deal with difficult future conflicts with Junior. Obviously whatever this kid's parents had done worked well.

Pro-1-2-3

Saturday the forecast called for rain in the morning, i.e. during the 3-4 race, and sun in the afternoon during the P-1-2-3 race. I thought about doing the later race to avoid the potential wet pavement. When I saw some of the names - at least two ex-pros, one real pro, plus a slew of high level NYC riders as well as some of the Adam Myerson guys, I decided that an out of form Cat 3 would definitely be out of place.

Therefore I'd resigned myself to not racing (until the wake up call from the Missus).

Of course now that I saw the course I really wanted to watch the P-1-2-3 race. It would be absolutely intense with the tight corners and short straights. I wanted to watch the race stretch into single file and then shatter into pieces, now that I knew that I wouldn't be one of the fragments cast off to the side.

Local racer, now pro for Jelly Belly, Ben Wolfe.

Ben put on a proper show. He ramped up the pace on the second lap, blew the field apart, and then gathered some riders to form the winning break. Some non-cooperation caused fractures in the break, with the most noticeable loss, at least to me, being the ZipCar rider Sam R. He'd bridged to the break, did the work to get there, then ended up sawed off the back.

Ben took off, did a few laps solo, but the rest of the break knew he could hold a gap once he had it. They worked super hard to bring him back and that was the race.

Rolling around the course with two bells.

The Missus and I decided to walk the course backward, mainly so we could see the riders coming toward us. We stuck to the inside loop so we wouldn't have to cross streets. As a bonus we'd get the inside view on most of the corners.

Local Junior Austin leading the field.

There were a few Juniors in the field. Although I grew up racing a few Juniors who would then sit at the front of the later-in-the-day Cat 1-2 races in those days gear limits didn't apply once you entered a Senior race. To see the Juniors take the start was impressive, and to watch them make moves that their older peers couldn't make, that was even more so.

Local Junior sensation Austin was out there in force. He's won two national titles, the 'cross and the 'crit, a couple years ago. He's obviously really strong and very talented. It'll be interesting to see how he goes in the next few years.

Watching the racers go by.

Running with his bells.

 We picked up one bell from the street, the other came from a nice woman handing out bells.

The "Adam Hansen" approach to fit - this dude was fast!

The above rider, who started the race with twin deep profile wheels, had what had to be the most radical position of any of the riders out there. The combination of narrow bars, extreme drop, and very high and forward position looked super aggressive, just like Adam Hansen (currently on Lotto-Belisol).

I wasn't sure how to judge his position but in the end his legs spoke volumes. Although he missed the big move of the day, triggered by local hero Ben Wolfe, he made the second move, the big chase group. He did a lot of pulling, at least as far as I saw. Eventually, though, the second group seemed resigned to its fate of not bridging.

The break, in the meantime, had lapped the field.

Suddenly the Adam Hansen lookalike took off on his own. He worked relentlessly and managed to cross the gap to the break/field, the only rider to bridge to the break after it got established.

Whatever the effect of his position, that guy can ride a bike.

As Junior got tired we kept him in the stroller more.

He's eating here, the Missus feeding him.

Note his firm grip on the bells.

When the break lapped the field I thought that Ben's chances had gone out the door. He wasn't a sprinter as much as one of those super powerful motors. He needed to get clear of everyone to win, and unfortunately there wasn't a lot of long drags on the course where he could really put his motor to work.

Therefore when the break lapped the field the New York City teams took over, keeping things together, keeping their sprinters to the front. They let Ben sit near the front but on the last lap they aggressively moved him back. I could see, but couldn't capture, significant contact down the main straight.

I felt bad for him, knowing that really they didn't need to do that. They could have gone against him head to head with a pretty good chance of beating him. He's not a sprinter so he'd definitely go early. They could work off of him instead of trying to shove him back into the depths of the field.

The winner, with the yellow shoes, going into the sprint.

Ben is in the center of the picture.

Note the "power slide" by the rider from Champion, on the orange bike.

The sprint was almost anticlimactic for me. I was rooting for Ben. I've seen other pros, on their own, trying to fend off a swarm of lessor riders, and it's tough. In one race a long time ago I tried to help a pro friend of mine, built more for the long hard miles of a pro rather than the shorter bursts of power that amateurs dish out, and I watched as my pro friend got beaten. Therefore I hoped that Ben could break the field and go on his own.

Too heavily marked, he ended up finishing a bit back in the sprint, at least for a favorite, getting 5th I think.

However, I think it appropriate that the NYC teams came away with 2nd at best. The winner races for the team that local racer/hero Adam Myerson runs. Although the racer was heavily outnumbered in the finale he rode smart, jumped later in the severe headwind final straight, and clearly won the race.

With that we headed back to the car. Junior was getting tired again, we were tired, and we had a lot of stuff to do at the house.

All in all a great day at the races. I wish I'd ridden better but I can't not train and then expect the world in a race. It was fun watching the pros deal with that super technical course. Next year I hope to return with a bit better form. The race taught me just how fit a racer can be, needs to be, to compete at the higher amateur levels. I hope to hit something close to that, at least in terms of speed. I can't imagine competing at a much higher level but it happens. Crazy.