Tactics - Bike Throw, 2005 Bethel Spring Series

Bike throw pictures. They fascinate me because it's a skill/practice thing. Pretty much anyone can learn to throw their bike in one or two tries, and after 20 or 30 practice throws (it might take a few minutes, or, if you're actually sprinting a little before the throw, maybe an hour), you'll be pretty proficient at it.

Yet even pros don't throw their bikes properly at the line. These are guys that make their living on results, at least if they're vying for a win. Okay, fine, the team rider that is supposed to pull the first 150 km of the race, I get that they don't get into situations very often where they're trying to win a race. But even the most hardcore domestique should know how to throw a bike at the finish.

Imagine if it's the one day out of ten years where your break actually made it to the finish intact and now it's just you and a couple other riders going for the win. You jump well, you sprint well, and your body is even ahead of the next rider... but at the line the other rider beats you with a bike throw.

How horrible is that?

Not just that, how horrible is it when the loser realizes that it's just a little bit of practice, a little bit of horsing around, that lost the race?

Recently two riders made it to the finish of a race and for once both had spectacular bike throws. One won, one lost, but it certainly wasn't because of a poor bike throw. It's good to see that in a pro race.

For some reason I never posted these pictures from the 2005 Bethel Spring Series on the blog, or if I did I can't find them. So I'm putting them here, possibly again, for reference.

To me normally the Series was the World Championships of racing so it was really, really important for me to do as best as I could. However, two years prior, I'd promised my mom to win the race for her about a month before she died.

This made the Series even more significant to me.

My friendly arch rival that year was Morgan. He's an admittedly better racer than me but he'd spread himself a bit thin by trying to win both the Masters and Cat 3-4 Series yet again. This led to him not starting one of the Cat 3-4 races after an icy cold rainy day sapped him of strength in the Masters race.

Each time we went head to head in the sprints he absolutely demolished me, typically by a solid 10 or 20 feet, if not more. However, because he missed one race, and I think in another he had some problem, I ended up coming into the last week with a 1 point lead.

On the last week the top seven racers got 10, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 points respectively. If tied on points whoever placed ahead of the other on the last day would win. Therefore I basically had to beat Morgan. If he got any place I'd have to place in front of him. Even if he got just 7th he'd tie me on points but if I didn't place in front of him he'd win on the tie-breaker.

I had a bit of help, both from teammates and friends, including some very strong riders that could pull like mad. They knew that it had to come down to a sprint, and that I'd handle the final lap or two on my own.

Morgan had a superb team, including a Portuguese ex-pro. They were strong and motivated, and collectively had much more experience than my team. More than anything I feared them setting up a break so that Morgan could bridge to it. I wouldn't be able to hang in a break so a move like that would end my chances of retaining the lead.

Another racer John was in the mix. Like me he preferred sprints, but that spring I'd been outsprinting him consistently. He knew this and admitted later that he wasn't up to it that day. A realist, he would be satisfied holding onto third overall. However he decided at some point that his team would ride for me if it came down to Morgan and myself.

Finally the local shop team, Bethel Cycle, had two very strong crit racers looking to win the day. Both of their sprinters, Stephen and Bryan, were friends of mine, but on that day I couldn't count on them for any gifts.

Even with the relentless attacking by Morgan's team, it came down to a field sprint, thanks to the efforts of my teammates, John's teammates, Bethel Cycle (who wanted to win the sprint), and a friend here and there. On the bell lap Bethel Cycle put four riders up front just after Turn One, two leadout men and two sprinters. I sat on their wheel and I think Morgan was on my wheel.

The first leadout man peeled off rather quickly, leaving Brian W to do the majority of the lap at the front. Patiently the rest of the field waited as we flew down the backstretch. Then Brian pulled off, absolutely exploded, and the sprint started to unfold. Unfortunately for Stephen and Bryan, the leadout Brian couldn't make it another 100 meters or so, and so one had to start the sprint early. The fourth rider was already in trouble, which set Morgan and myself up for a battle royale.

As we hit the uphill finish the two Bethel sprinters both blew up at the same time, jamming up the inside line. I managed to clear them to the right but Morgan got boxed in on the left curb. He had to back out of that spot, go around the two riders to their right, and hunt me down before the finish line.

After I passed Bryan I found myself on a clear road, nothing between me and the finish line, and something like 75 meters to go. I thought for certain that Morgan had run into problems, I knew there would be no one else approaching me (and it didn't matter if anyone except Morgan did approach me).

I started thinking about if I should raise my hands or not. Maybe just one. I've only raised my hands once and it was a two up sprint and the other guy sat up long before the finish line. I even looked back and confirmed he'd stopped sprinting before I raised my hands.

The only time I've ever raised my hands at the finish.

It was 1992, almost 13 years before this particular Bethel Spring Series.

So all this was going through my head as I got onto the flat part of the road by the finish, maybe 15 or 20 meters to go.

Then, to my absolute horror, I saw a wheel coming up fast on my right. I couldn't even make out the jersey but I knew the only racer who could make that move was Morgan.

I pedaled a few desperate pedal strokes to the line and threw my bike as far forward as I could. I looked over at Morgan as I did and ended up a bit disoriented, losing the grip on one side of my bars. It slewed me to the left and I almost crashed into the curb.

I had no idea if I'd won or not, and in fact I thought I'd given away the win by dreaming about "posting up" (the raised arms thing).

You can see that we're already throwing our bikes.

At this point our bikes are even.

Here I'm starting to really drop back over the saddle.

This is pushing the bike forward.

I'm running out of "going backward" room.

However it seems that I've done enough to keep my bike in front.

Any my front wheel passes the line before his.

In the last picture you can see that my head and shoulders are in front of Morgan's. If neither of us had thrown our bikes I'd have won, barely. If I did a less intense throw, or no throw at all, it's clear that Morgan would have beaten me. This is because my head is usually over the front wheel, at least where the hub is, and if you moved my wheel back so that the center of the wheel was under my head... I'd have lost by about the margin I won by.

It looks all set and pretty in still motion, but if you watch the clip in real time all this stuff unravels really fast. Go to about 5:45.

2005 Bethel Spring Series

Ultimately the finish line camera told the story. Both Morgan and I checked ourselves because we both really didn't know who won. I was also the promoter so I had to make sure that the win was legitimate, not just because I made the race happen.

Morgan later told me that he still thinks about the race. It was a good race, a fair race, a hard race. We both raced to our limits, we both made our moves, and we both did a technically perfect sprint. In the end the race tilted in my direction, but it could have gone either way.

Racing - CCAP Tuesday Night Race - Bs, Too Cooked To Know To Sprint

My normal ritual on Tuesdays is to start preparing for the races by about 2 PM. The Missus gets home just before 5 PM and the goal is to have my dad and Junior in the packed car, idling, waiting for her.

This has not happened yet.

My race prep actually starts a bit earlier than that, with shifting tasks earlier to free up the time from 2 PM on. So, as expected, at 2 PM, Junior was upstairs napping, and I had my dad at the table. It's been a difficult last few days, with a minor leak with the toilet (due to my dad's uncontrolled descent onto the thing, slamming into the tank with his back). So with all the stuff that's happened in the last few days things seemed to be going well.

Normally my dad takes a minute to get going so I checked the weather. It was supposed to be partly cloudy, virtually no chance of rain, and in the mid-upper 80s by race time.

Fine.

The first hint of the derailment was that my dad didn't start to eat for 90 minutes. I tried all sorts of stuff but he'd either not open his mouth or he would just hold the food in his mouth. It's food that he eats regularly so it wasn't like I was feeding him something yucky. He finally started to swallow food but now I was starting to have some schedule anxiety. Junior would be up shortly and then my race prep efficiency would drop pretty dramatically.

Then it started pouring.

I refreshed the weather site and now it said thunder and lightning for the next little bit, clearing up by 4:00 PM or so. The cloud cover seemed to be over us at that moment but moving out of the area.

When I checked the hourly at the race venue it said no rain, but then it said that here also. 

With race time at 6 PM I hoped that the course would be dry.

Junior did get up but then played quietly on his own, allowing me to gather my race stuff. I'd need to get the bike, SRM, and shoes from the basement. Helmet, cam, gloves, and heart rate strap from the "stuff to bring to the race" spot upstairs. I needed to pack the cooler with bottles of ice water, a couple sandwiches for Junior. Then from the garage the folding chairs for the non-racers, my race wheels, and the first aid kit.

I got the upstairs stuff out to the car fine, plus the chairs. I decided to get the bike on the roof because that's part of the stuff I can do outside. I prefer to put the cooler and the race wheels in the car last because it's usually so hot outside and I don't want the race wheels baking in a 180 degree car oven.

I went to go downstairs but got distracted by one of our cats rubbing his butt on the floor, something unusual. He left a trail of poo and so I cleaned that up, washed my hands, all that kind of stuff.

I sensed the time slipping away.

I trotted downstairs to get my bike. The bike room is off limits to the cats so the door is always closed. I opened the door and actually swore out loud.

The "slightly leaking tank" upstairs had translated into water coming through the ceiling and into the bike room.

The rug was soaked. Everything was wet with water spatter.

I grabbed my shoes, literally being dripped on from the (finished) ceiling, and ran upstairs. I ran around a bit, got an empty litter box bucket (we buy in buckets, not jugs), and put it under the water coming through the ceiling.

I tried to shut off the supply line. Although it slowed it didn't stop. I removed the flapper so that the water wouldn't build up in the tank. I mopped up the floor as best I could. And I directed a fan onto the floor to increase evaporation rates (and kept the AC cranked to keep the air dry). I put my shoes on the floor in front of the fan, to dry them off.

Time was bleeding pretty quickly now.

After some quick mental calculation, some time-money-life balance factors, I decided that I'd still prepare to go to the race. If in the next hour the water was pouring into the basement then I'd skip the race, but I really wanted to race and I thought that any damage would be limited to whatever already got damaged.

I spent some time picking up the cluttered bike room floor. Got my bike out of there and onto the roof of the car (getting the bike outside involves two staircases, two 180s, a number of 90 deg turns, and a lot of scuff marks on the walls). Pumped up the race wheels but left them in the cool garage. Bike locked, rear wheel strapped down, I went back inside.

I started assembling the cooler. I was putting water in the bottles at the sink when I looked outside.

It was pouring.

I thought for a moment about the bike on the roof. Then the car. Did I open the windows like I normally do? Was the garage door open? I carefully thought.

I did not open the car windows. I closed the garage door.

I kept filling the bottles.

I got Junior dressed, shoes on, everything. Cooler was assembled. Dad dressed. I can't remember what I was doing when the Missus came home but she came in and one of the first things she asked me was where I had my shoes. She's taken inventory of the car in the driveway and noticed that the shoes weren't in the car.

Doh! They were in front of the fan in my dad's bathroom!

I went and checked. Shoes were dry. Floor was damp but not puddled. Went and checked basement. Okay. Very little water in the bucket, no more water coming off the ceiling.

It was race time!

We headed out a little after 5. I was already pretty frazzled but the drive to the race was pretty calming, and we got there with a bit of time to spare.

Waving to Junior while doing a warm up lap.

The wind was just howling when we got there, the sky blue with white clouds everywhere. As far as I could tell the downpours at home hadn't been here.

I decided to use the Stinger 4 front wheel, the 45 mm tall wheel, instead of the Stinger 7 / 75 mm wheel. I figured that would be better for the wind. We'd gotten there early enough that I could do a lap or two, and the Stinger 4 felt stable even in a strong crosswind.

Start of the race.

A decent number of people showed up for this week, the last one of the season. For me this would be my last race of the season, period. With no more venues this close to the house I really can't think about doing any of the upcoming races.

Gaps opening up by the end of the first lap.

The racing started pretty quickly, with a move causing a gap to open within the first lap of the race. I struggled to get going; I hoped this wasn't a sign of things to come.

Wind from the left.

The wind really hit us from the left on after Turn 3, on the final stretch. This meant sheltering to the right. The final stretch curves left but the wind was such that even at the start/finish you really wanted to be seeking shelter to the right. This meant rolling up near the curb each lap, something that can get tricky if everyone is looking to shelter there. At the same time it's sort of fun, to be fighting for wheels on the curb, I felt sort like it was actually bike racing, not just riding my bike.

Race neutralized.

At some point in the race there was a crash after Turn 1. The race got neutralized as they got everyone off the ground. I stopped to offer the first aid kit but it seemed that everyone was okay without it. One rider went to the hospital, a Junior. Hopefully he's okay.

Race back on.

After a number of neutral laps, where everyone really did go neutral, the race was back on.

Big attack.

I found myself withering out there. The heat, the relentless attacks, I was absolutely at the limit. I remember one time sitting on wheels near the front when someone attacked. Everyone responded except me. I couldn't get out of the saddle, I couldn't spin.

Gapped off temporarily.

Finally someone rolled by me, I clawed my way onto their wheel, and we got back on. A short time later, maybe within a lap or so, there was even a bigger move.

An even bigger attack.

This time I couldn't go at all. I watched them ride away from me. A teammate warming up for the A race rolled by, yelling encouragement.

I hoped that the field would ease a bit but I figured that my chances of catching back on were minimal at best. I started to roll near the start/finish. Then I noticed the field soft pedaling. They had not just eased up, it looked like they had just stopped racing. It was like...

Oh.

That was the sprint.

The race was over.

I don't know the last time I was so cooked that I didn't realize it was the end of the race. In reviewing the clip I could see and hear the bell but when I was actually racing nothing registered.

After the race.

I rolled around to the start/finish again and spotted Junior. He was trying to find a garbage can so I helped him with that. Then we headed over to base camp, where the Missus and Pops were hanging out.

Junior and the bike.

We had to get going, with the water situation uncertain at home. So after a brief rest, where I recovered a bit and watched in amazement as the As raced around at warp speed, we headed out.

At home I was zonked. Luckily the water was better - the basement was basically dry. We've since installed a new toilet (the next morning) and nothing, touch wood, is leaking.

For now, though, that's my 2016 racing season. I've done, what, like 8 races, all of them Tuesday Night Worlds. I started feeling a bit better towards the end, the sufferfest above notwithstanding.

I'm also already thinking about what's up next for me for racing, next season.
 - Lose some weight. I've been hovering at around 170-175 lbs most of the season. Being 160 lbs makes a huge difference. 155 lbs would be insane. 150 lbs is a dream.
 - Get the rocking trainer better. It's already helped a lot but I have ideas on making it better.
 - Do some outdoor sprints. Rocking trainer or not, I need to be able to do 100% jumps without worrying about slipping the tire or something. Even if it means sprinting up and down my street I think it's something I need to do a little more often than "never".
 - VO2 max intervals. They really helped in 2015. This year I did 6 total days of intervals, 3 weeks worth.
 - Get my SRM spiders working. Not having power is a bit frustrating because I have no idea if I'm actually stronger or not.

And, of course, clean up the bike room.

Racing - CCAP Tuesday Night Crit, July 26, 2016 - Bs, led out sprint after a hot-for-me race

The last two times I raced I got shelled here, and in fact last week I got shelled so badly that I didn't even finish the post about the race. It was hot, I felt "blocked" (which is really another term for "not as in shape as I wanted to be"), and it was an exhausting outing to make it to the race.

This week seemed to be about as hot, expected temps at race time in the 93-94 degree range. I seemed to melt in the heat before so I was careful to pack some insulated bottles with lots of ice and a bit of water.

I also let myself eat some more carbs in the prior two days. With my A1C (historic blood sugar as measured on red blood cells) a bit high I've been focusing on not eating a lot of carbs. I realized that after almost 8 months of this that I lack some energy in races, the top end I need to push when it's tough. My guidelines were from my sister - 15g of carbs for breakfast, 45g for lunch, 45g for dinner, and 15g for a few snacks during the day.

To put things in perspective I was probably consuming a full day's worth of carbs in just one meal, and probably a day's worth just in the hour before a race. A can of soda is about 45g of carbs; one slice of bread would kill my breakfast budget.

So in the 24 hours prior to the race I went a bit hog wild. I didn't count every gram but realistically I had 400-500g of carbs. Ravioli. Bread (in the form of maybe six sandwiches). Sugary stuff also, like some Nutella, a serving of danish my dad had refused for two days, some left over ketchup from one of Junior's hot dogs. I hoped that this short term sugar sacrifice would pay dividends at the race.

Our tight schedule got derailled a bit by my dad with some untimely stuff out of our control but we got on the road only a little later than planned. We got to the course in decent time, not too much standing traffic, and it left me with a solid 5 minutes to get ready.

Now, back at home, I'd already done stuff like put on my bibs, pin my number, and collected everything possible for the bike. I also pumped up the tires. I know the tubes lose air hourly but if I pumped up the tires at home it'd be maybe 90 minutes before race time. That's not bad.

Oh and the pin job. Heh.

28 pins.

I tried not to make the number hard to read so the pins go on the perimeter or on the number.

I was feeding my dad and had a lot of time on my hands. I'd pinned the number already and decided to get Junior's "bin of pins". An unexpected side-effect of promoting races for a couple decades is that you end up with safety pins everywhere. Junior loves to put things where they belong so when Junior finds a safety pin he puts it in a little container that I designated the right place for safety pins (if only I was so organized). I checked the pins because they eventually rust or they bend, tossed any that seemed even slightly off, and net result?

Lotsa pins.

I left a few pins in the bin to sort of plant the seed for newly found pins, meaning he'll look at the bin and think, "Oh, this is the right bin for safety pins."

For some reason the pin job reminds me of one of those people with lots and lots of piercings.

We headed out to the race. Although it's a short drive, about 35 minutes without traffic, with the time being about 5 PM aka rush hour when we head out it's usually a bit longer than that. We got there with maybe 10 minutes to spare.

After getting my dad situated with the Missus and Junior I signed in and put myself together for the race. I rolled out to the starting group, realized it was a Junior group doing a final "after the race review" thing, started to roll away, and then the official called us to the line. So I warmed up for about a hundred yards.

Island Rider at the start

I don't think I ever posted this but one of my five outside training rides in 2015 was with Island. He lives a town over from where I used to live, he cut his teeth racing at Bethel, he consciously went out and supported the sponsors of the Series, his teammate helped me a ton with the website, he's sort of involved in cycling discussions online, yada yada yada. He normally doesn't meander up this way for a weekday race so it was nice to see him. I don't think I've talked to him in person since our training ride a year or so ago.

I did notice that he had some nice HED wheels. The front looked awfully tall. I touched the wheel with my finger.

Me: "Is that a 9?" (Stinger 9, 90mm tall)
Island: "No, it's a 7." (Stinger 7, 75mm tall)
Me: "Oh! That's what I run!"
Island: "Where do you think I got the idea?"

Heh.

I looked at his wheels again. Yes, they did look like mine, except his were newer. And it looked like he rode them more often than I did mine.

Left side wind exiting Turn 3.

Means sit to the right exiting the turn.

Taking advantage of the fact that I know Island, I'll use him as the "drafting example". The wind was moderately strong and it required decent Wind Management to save energy. The trickiest part of the course was exiting Turn 3 through to the start/finish line. The wind hit you from the left as you exited the turn, forcing you to sit to the right. In the picture above I'm behind and slightly to the right of Island. This was about where you wanted to be to get maximum shelter.

Front wind halfway to start/finish area.

Means sit directly behind the next rider.

Problem was that as you traveled along the curved bit the wind direction changed. In the picture above the wind is hitting us head on. I've adjusted my position behind Island based on the wind direction.

Right side wind at start/finish area.

Means sit to the left a bit.

On the start/finish straight the wind hit us from the right side. I've had to adjust my position relative to Island once again.

This happened every single lap. It's a bit tricky, shifting over like that. It requires vigilance on your part as well as understanding from the other riders. If everyone is reading the wind properly then everyone understands how critical it is to stay sheltered, and you naturally adjust and shuffle around to let people get into and stay in shelter.

It's when riders aren't aware of the wind that it becomes tricky. To someone like that I probably looked like a pretty ragged rider, slowly drifting from one side of the rider in front to the other.

The heat didn't help much. Every week I'd been pretty good about waving to Junior. This week I probably waved twice, maybe three times. I was absolutely smashed by the heat. I kept dumping ice cold water on myself out of my Podium Ice bottles, taking a sip, but it didn't really make a huge dent on the heat. I guess I really haven't ridden in anything like this regularly. Not only that, I've been indoors most of the time, so my ambient temperature for the last two months has probably been mostly 75-80 degrees. This mid-90 stuff was killing me.

I continued on, stamping on the pedals (more on that on a different post), my awareness constantly narrowing to just the wheel ahead of me. I checked my SRM a couple times, mainly to make sure that I wasn't in real physical difficulty, else I'd just sit up and withdraw from the race. The SRM duly reported that I was "well within parameters", at least for heart rate.

I didn't feel like it.

Over the winter I paid to do a fitting, the first fitting I ever paid for. The fitter, CP, lives in my home town. I'd hoped to see him at the races at some point, but after a few weeks of not seeing him, I sort of gave up. Fitting is a retail business and Tuesday evenings are a retail kind of time.

At some point in the haze of the heat I realized that the kit next to me was one of the Stage One kits. CP rides for Stage One - their core team members basically joined for life. CP is a big, powerful rider, reminding me in his style of Johan Capiot, and here he was, Capiot himself, next to me.

He rolled to the front, I duly took his wheel. His is a strong, steady wheel, very easy to trust. I know because I spent some significant time on that wheel in the early years of the Bethel Spring Series, on his wheel, watching his TriSpokes whirling around. He was always super strong in a sort of Cancellara kind of way. He could put down solid power for minutes at a time. I actually dreaded seeing him at the Series. I remember thinking to myself during those days, "Oh, man, CP is moving up again."

Then I'd be groveling on wheels for the next couple laps as he did this or that at the front.

CP to my left, of Body Over Bike

So it came as no surprise when he started to put some pace into the race. A move had gone off the front, no one was helping him, and he felt the need to do a pull. Of course no one was helping him, I was the one right behind him and I wasn't in a position to close much more than about a couple foot gap. He did what was natural for him. I could see his body language change just a bit as he hunkered down for the effort.

Then, hands still up on the hoods, butt still planted firmly on the saddle, he accelerated.

I watched him ride away.

Others rode after him, maneuvering around the mobile chicane in the road, aka me.

The moves came back, a three or so rider move went clear, and the race came down to its final laps.

With Island being a here a real treat I decided I'd try to help him out at this probably unfamiliar venue. I gave him some advice on the wind, I tried to point out some of the strongest riders willing to make moves, and, at two laps to go, I rolled up to him and told him to follow me.

Another rider I think misunderstood me and got on my wheel, Island letting him in. I started going a bit faster at the bell but someone attacked at the same time so I really only neutralized the attack. Then on the backstretch I started to open it up. I wasn't out of the saddle, I didn't want to jump (I think I really couldn't do a proper jump at that moment), I only wanted to "go faster".

Going through Turn 3 I must have done something off since the gap opened up there. I kept going, hoping the rider behind would get back on my wheel, but the reality is that in such a situation the leadout man has to ease up, wait, and try to coordinate with the sprinter getting back on the gas again.

I didn't do that so I gapped myself off the front. I sat up after pedaling a bit and watched the riders roll by me.

The field did a little sprint, behind the break. I realized after the fact that my approach to the race has been "if there's no break lead out the sprint, if there's a break then I'll sprint". I forgot that mantra in my heat-induced haze and I didn't sprint even though I probably could have done so without feeling too guilty.

At any rate I was okay with watching the rest of the group sprint for the line.

I picked up a fresh bottle of ice water from the Missus, told Junior I'd be right back, and got out to roll around for a minute or four. I needed to cool off a bit and I needed that constant slight breeze from being in motion on the bike.

As a bonus Island was rolling around as well. We rehashed bits of the race, I clarified some tactical stuff, we talked briefly about life, and then we called it a day.

I rolled back to our base camp, Junior waiting for me.

Junior after the race.

Xander, behind him, had just given him a high 5, hence the big grin

One of the Juniors, Xander, was walking by and gave him a high five. This absolutely made his day. Another rider played with Junior for a bit, doing stuff with Legos. I know it made Junior's day because the first thing he told me was that, "Kevin played Legos with me!" He was so happy.

(On an aside calling Junior Junior gets confusing with Junior racers around.)

Junior, the Missus, and Pops

We had to get going as I didn't want Pops to be in the heat too much. I even patted his face, neck, and arms down with some ice-water dampened towels. But before I could do that Junior wanted to play with the pedals and cranks on my bike.

Junior with my bike

He was super disappointed that "Mr Esteban" wasn't around. My teammate had made a Craigslist purchase for me, some Thomas the Engine blue train track, and Junior went absolutely nuts over all the extra track and the drawbridge and the stations and stuff we got. I had told him Mr Esteban was giving us some Thomas track. It's simpler than saying he got it for me, plus it dilutes the "Daddy buys me everything" deal - I want to pass around the credit. So his new best friend is Mr Esteban, who, unfortunately for us, couldn't make it this week.

Once he understood that Mr Esteban wasn't around he wiped away his disappointment and went back to telling me about the race and such. We walked back to the car together with him helping me steer my bike.

At times he looks so big, like when we're messing around on the couch or on the bed. His legs go from here to there, if I hold him across my arms he sticks out everywhere, feet out that side, head out the other, arms dangling to the sides. At other times, like when he plays with my bike, he looks so, so tiny.

At the car he started to melt down a bit. Doing even the earlier B race pushes his sleep schedule pretty hard, making the trip home tough on him sometimes.

No race next week as the venue isn't available. Two more after that and then I think it's done for the year.

And that'll be my 2016 racing season. I know I'll be able to race a bit more in the future, I just don't know when. It'll happen when it happens and that's good enough for me.

Ah, life. It's a cycle.

Racing - Throwing Your Bike (Pictures)

I wrote a post a while back about throwing your bike, meaning doing a bike throw at the finish of a sprint. I know that I'm somewhat obsessive about bike throws, even doing bike throws when I'm well clear of the field.

However, my livelihood doesn't depend on it. I still do them, just because I want to do the best I can with what I have. I do bike throws because I don't want to leave something to chance.

My bike throw from April 12, 2015.

It's a very minor one, I thought I was clear so I threw the bike out of habit.

I'm not way over the back wheel.

This is a pretty poor bike throw, I've gained maybe 6-12 inches forward travel on the bike. My head would normally be over the bars, or even in front of them in an all out sprint, not behind them. If I had to really reach I could have gotten another 6 inches of reach I think.

The picture below shows just how safe I was playing that finish.

That's me up ahead, the speck below the red and white tent awnings.

Like I said, I threw the bike just to be safe.

And today, July 5th, 2016, in the Tour, I think that Direct Energie's Coquard had the sprint in the bag. He simply could not finish it off with a good bike throw.

Bryan Coquard's finish in Stage 4 of the 2016 Tour de France.

Picture from BH Bikes USA, Facebook.

The significant thing here is that Coquard is sitting on his saddle.

This means he did not do a bike throw at the finish.

Remember that you're classified as finishing when your bike breaks the plane of the finish line. I think if the bike is crashing then it's not necessarily the front tire, but in a normal sprint you're looking to put the front tire to the line before anyone else. That's key because it means that you're not as concerned about your head, your torso, etc. It's the front tire of the bike.

The way a bike throw works is the rider moves momentum/inertia from one part of the bike/rider unit to another. Since the rider, even a skinny Tour racer, is heavier than their bike, a racer can shove themselves backward on the bike to move the bike forward. If you shove the bike forward relative to your body you will momentarily slow your body. In return your bike will accelerate.

Say you weigh 160 lbs. Your bike weighs 16 lbs. If you move your body back one inch, your bike will move forward 10 inches. This means that if you move your bike forward, relative to your body, just an inch or two, you'll gain half a wheel in the sprint.

Okay, that's not totally accurate. There's wind resistance, there's friction, and there's the fact that part of your body is moving with the bike (your hands, feet, some of your arms, most of your legs). Plus there's the whole "how long are your arms" question - if you can't reach further forward then your bike isn't going forward any more.

The reality is that if you move your hips back about 8-10 inches you'll realistically get your bike forward maybe 12-18 inches. It's not ten to one ration between yours and your bike's movement, it's more like three to two. Still, though a foot is significant if you're losing the sprint by a an inch.

The wrong way to do a bike throw is to simply straighten your arms. You don't move your body relative to the bike so the bike doesn't leap forward. This is what Coquard did at the end of Stage 4.

The right way to do a bike throw is to extend your arms as you drop your pelvis behind your saddle. By pushing your pelvis behind your saddle you're moving the most mass possible as far back as possible.

This thrusts the bike forward.

This is the bike throw that basically started the blog.

Once I realized I could sprint on the bike I started looking at how to optimize my sprint. I learned about bike throws, figured out the physics thing (thanks to school), and from then on I was doing bike throws all the time. Easy ride? Throw my bike to whatever shadow was in front of me. Waiting in the parking lot for a group ride? Bike throws to empty parking spot lines. Group ride? Bike throw at town line sprint.

Races?

Bike throws for sure.

Over the course of 30-odd seasons I don't think it'd be unrealistic to say that I've done maybe 10,000 bike throws. If I did 300 a year that would be about 10,000. I probably had single days where I did 50 or 75 or even 100 bike throws. I even had bike throw mishaps, like when I went out on a ride on my Aerolite equipped bike with slippers on instead of cycling shoes.

For a long time I never thought I'd really use a bike throw because I seemed to get shelled all the time. Eventually though I started sprinting, started placing, and started doing bike throws for real.

I did get an interesting place in the Tour of Michigan due to a bike throw. We were sprinting curb to curb, about 10 riders across. I was stuck in the second row. The first row was somehow, magically, sprinting at basically the exact same speed, within a foot or two of one another.

The second row was soft pedaling, waiting for someone to blow, waiting for that gap to open to allow them to surge past that blowing up front row and win the race.

The gap never happened.

At the line I thrust my bike forward as far as I could. My front wheel ended up at or past some of the front row riders' pedals and cranks. I thought I might lose my wheel to those spokes.

There were 10 riders in the first row of sprinters. I got 11th in the race.

Fast forward about 11-13 years. I was one point behind Morgan in the overall in the Bethel Spring Series. I had to beat him in the sprint, and get top 7, to win the Series overall. As a sprinter I was definitely one step behind Morgan. He could beat me straight up; I was close only because he skipped a race, I think because it was raining and he'd used himself up in the Masters race.

Coming into the sprint I followed Bethel Cycle's four man leadout train. They had two sprinters, Stephen G and Bryan H. Both of them would win the Series overall in other years - they are both very good riders. I sat on their wheels, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

I jumped very late, trusting in my jump to give me the best chance against Morgan. We sprinted at similar speeds (he a bit faster) but in the jump I possibly had an edge.

I sprinted towards the finish. I'd jumped hard I thought I had it made. I was debating if I should raise my hands or not. Then, just before the line, to my right, I sensed something.

I looked.

To my horror it was Morgan. He'd gotten boxed in going into the sprint (when one or both of the Bethel sprinters blew up), had to back out of that spot, and was now closing with a fury. He was sprinting noticeably faster than me. I had to get to the line before he passed me for good.

I did a couple more pedal strokes and desperately threw my bike at the line. I threw the bike so hard I lost my grip on one side of the bar, causing me to veer crazily toward the left curb.

But, in all that, I'd done a good bike throw. I'd won the race, and with it, the Series.

You can see here that I'm only slightly ahead of Morgan.

I'm rapidly slowing in the sprint at this point. It's hard to see in the pictures but in the video you can see that I'm not going as fast as Morgan.

However I'm already getting into the bike throw at this point.

As my body extends back my bike moves forward.

I'm trading my body's position to gain bike movement.

At this point I'm going to win the race. I'm deep into my bike throw, I'm still not fully extended, but my front wheel is already ahead of Morgan's wheel.

I'm still extending, trying to get my hips down.

At this point I'm still getting further back on the bike. My head is coming down really hard, hard enough to hit my helmet to my stem. I can feel the saddle in my stomach and I'm hoping that I don't fall back into my own rear wheel.

The finish.

I'm fully extended and on the edge of losing control. The saddle is firmly in my stomach and I have marginal control over the bike.

However, if you look at Morgan, you can see he's really only raised himself up out of the saddle. If he'd thrown the bike forward it would have been a closer race. I always compare head position relative to the line - my head is forward of Morgan's so I think I'd still have won. However it would have been much, much closer.

His hips are basically in the same place as mine, and if he had a similar torso length as me, I think his head would have been about even with mine. It would have been even a closer race.

Bike throws are quick. In pictures they look nice and neat, but in reality it's a little spurt and that's that.

The bike throw for the 2005 Bethel Spring Series (go to just before 6 minutes into the clip for real time, 7 minutes in for slow motion):

Coquard, in the sprint for Stage 4 today in the Tour, didn't move his bike forward relative to his body. If he had done so he realistically would have taken the stage.

The last kilometer, courtesy the Tour (no commentary):

 I did notice that virtually no one threw their bikes at the line, even Kittel. It might have been that the uphill drag was particularly tough. However that's even more the reason to throw the bike, because if only one rider throws his bike...

For all us normal racers the bike throw is an easy skill to practice, you can do it all ride long on easy rides, you can do it warming up for races or group rides, you can even do bike throws when you're testing riding your bike (or someone else's bike). It's a skill that you should master and use. You never know when it'll come in handy.

Racing - CCAP Tuesday Night Race - June 14, 2016 B Race (Some good work and a sprint)

Ah, Tuesday Night Worlds. This season in particular this will be my only regular racing because of its close proximity. The only other venue this close to home is New Britain, so my racing this year will realistically be confined to those two spots.

This week Tuesday ended up being a beautiful day. Dry, sunny, mid-70s. Someone on the radio said it was a "Top 10" day of the year, it was that nice.

So of course we packed up and headed out.

I pack the car beforehand, doing as much as possible. For example for the Tuesday races I pin my number on at home, in a leisurely, calm, spacious, and non-windy environment. Unfortunately this Tuesday I couldn't find my number. I normally leave it in the car after I unpin it, but with a couple days of driving with the windows wide open ("Daddy can you open my window all the way down?") I suspect that there's a #185 floating around somewhere outside.

Speaking of #185...

As a last resort in looking for my number I asked Junior, after his nap, if he'd seen my race number. I wasn't even sure he knew what one was so I asked him a few questions at once.

"Have you seen Daddy's race number? The number when he races? Do you know what a race number is?"

"Fifty eight one!"

"It's 185... waitaminute. You know the race number?"

He looked at me with those big, round eyes and nodded.

4 year old kids are super observant and remember everything, just to let you know.

Anyway he hadn't seen the number either. Writing the number off as a loss I went on and checked and double checked everything else, and then the Missus did also.

"Did you get your phone? Helmet? Shoes? You want to charge your phone? I see your gloves here."

"Can you check my bike?"

"I already did, strap and everything."

"You have wheels, the chairs? Bottles. Your sandwich is in the cooler."

Etc etc. Time to go.

We got to the Rent in reasonable time. The Missus drove this time so I got to sit in the back and hang out with Junior. He sang along with a couple songs like "Cake By The Ocean" and some other song that I don't know at all. Apparently Junior is in his "narrative phase". This means he talks about everything. He points out stuff outside the window, then relates them to stories like Thomas the train or to friends at school. He'll randomly tell us about stuff, like what happened a year ago, or about a clip that I showed him (like of me tickling him when he was 8 or 9 months old). Sometimes it's hard to understand because there's no context when he switches topics from one word to another, but you can figure these things out after a while.

The Missus set up base camp for Pops, I got my bike ready, got another number (#472), and even got to roll around the course for a lap. Okay, I did it to get to the portapotty and I didn't want to go against the direction of the race to get to it.

My pin job. Outside, in the light wind.

At least Junior held the pins, feeding them to me one at a time.

I lost my SRM cadence/power, meaning the computer head just displayed zeros for them. That means the pick up under the BB is not right or the wire is busted. Since it's a new wire and since I had just checked the battery I'm pretty sure the pick up needs to be aligned better. That's on my to-do list now.

Start of the B race, neutral laps.

I'm doing the B races this year for a couple/few reasons. The primary one is schedule. With Junior's bed time around 7 PM, even the B race ends sort of late. We don't get home until 8-ish so it's a late night for him. Another is Pops - he can't stay out very long without needing some care so I want to minimize his time at races. And usually he eats dinner after the race. His dinner and bed prep might take 3 hours so I don't want to start it at 9 for example. For the record I finally got him to be around 10 PM and missed out on reading Junior a story.

Anyway tonight a lot of riders started the B race. Two laps neutral and we were off.

Moving up to close a gap.

Yes, that's the field way up there.

Early on I tried to help a rider at the back of the field but realized that I was going to be distanced if I hung out there too much longer. I moved up and saw a pretty big gap to close. Fortunately it wasn't all out so I could close it but it took a close-to-30 mph effort and cost me a huge effort.

Wind from left-front just after Turn Three.

I'm sheltering on #457's right side.

Wind from right-front about 200 meters later.

I've switched to sheltering on #457's left side.

Early on I realized that the wind was a left side cross-headwind exiting the third turn. This meant I wanted to be to the right side after we took the turn. As the road curved left though the wind direction changed accordingly, until it was clearly a right side cross-headwind. This meant sitting to the left of the wheel in front.

I had a difficult time making this move from one side to another while wind was hitting my front wheel sort of hard. I definitely bobbled a few times so my apologies to whoever was on my wheel when I got a bit sketchy.

Spinergys!

A very rare sighting - Spinergy Rev-Xs in the wild! A pair of them no less.

Getting ridden off the wheel...

As the race progressed there were some sharper and sharper attacks. Or I was getting more and more tired. I did pull here and there but I got ridden off the wheel twice. Here I simply couldn't follow the wheel. Tailwind section so it makes sense - drafting is less effective in a tailwind. My heart rate hit 166 bpm here before I came off.

This move never came back.

Getting ridden off the wheel again...

Here again I'm losing the wheel. I had less of an excuse here - it's a cross headwind and I was sheltered. I simply couldn't follow. Here my heart rate was about 165 bpm before I had to ease.

This move came back, but only after about ten other riders noodled off the front in various combinations, blew each other up, and got rolled up en masse after a few laps of chaos.

A huge pull for me, almost a whole lap.

You can't see the two guys I'm chasing.

After the fragmented field came together I wanted to see if I could cut into the gap of the two riders off the front. I did a pretty big pull. The gap was huge, about 25 seconds, so I couldn't just jump across; I can do that for a 10 second gap, maybe 15 seconds if I'm super fit. 25 seconds? No way. A gap like that meant doing some pretty hard steady stuff.

Two others with me but I was too cooked to work.

When I pulled off I was surprised to see just two riders on my wheel. I struggled to work with them but I think we were all struggling. We got caught after a lap or two.

The two man chase I was chasing? I think I cut about 30-50 meters out of their lead, so maybe a few seconds. Nothing substantial, that's for sure.

Three Expo riders in front of me, although we didn't have a plan per se.

At about 5 to go I looked up and saw three or four Expo riders in front of me. If it was planned it would have been super impressive but since it wasn't, well, maybe someone got a picture of it. It looked good, that's for sure.

Two Expos go. I never saw this as I was focused on the riders around me.

Along those lines two of the Expo guys took off. I never saw this as I was busy doing some closer riding in the group. The riders around me rode well, one guy kept looking so I knew he wasn't super comfortable but generally he was very good. He did back off unnecessarily in the turns; I'll have to say something next time I see him.

Approaching the bell!

Coming up on the bell I knew that at least two were gone, and I thought at least two more had gone also. Therefore we wouldn't be sprinting for the win. For me I decided I'd sprint. I wouldn't have power numbers due to the zero power/cadence readings, but at least I'd be able to do a maximal jump in a real world race situation.

However, because I only train on the trainer, doing a real out of the saddle sprint is a precious opportunity for me. My goal was to see how I sprinted on the 175s, do a real out of the saddle jump, and see how I fared after the initial acceleration.

First turn surge where the first two riders basically went clear of the field.

A couple guys in the field really went hard just after the bell, gapping the field off and riding clear of everyone else out of Turn One. I knew that my sprint would close a decent gap so that was okay. I was also happy to have a real race surge before the sprint - it would make my sprint test a bit more honest because I wasn't comfortable following wheels after the surge.

Backstretch - my left is clear so I jumped hard left.

I was thinking about the sprint for a few laps. I knew I could always just go out of Turn Three, but I didn't want to do the same thing as usual. Plus it was a headwind and it would be a demoralizing sprint for me. I wanted a bit more speed so at least I'd feel fast. This meant going, at latest, on the backstretch, which is really far away from the line.

In the back of my mind I was also thinking that if I went early and blew, the others would beat me. I didn't have a problem with that - my goal was to do a full on sprint, not necessarily to win the sprint.

Therefore I decided to go on the backstretch, in the tailwind section. It'd be 100-150 meters too early. I wasn't planning on making it easy for anyone but I felt that the field had a good chance of swamping me in the headwind finish.

I went to the left curb, got a gap.

Two riders in front, from that surge in Turn One.

My initial jump got me clear of the riders just behind me, allowing me to move to the left side. I shifted up as usual while out of the saddle and going 100%, two hard shifts. My bike felt nice and stable, I felt like I could get the bike going okay, and I didn't feel like I was holding my breath like I did with the 170s.

On the other hand the red bike felt a bit heavier up front. The black bike feels a bit more nimble out of the saddle - I can lift my front wheel easily in a sprint, which I like because I can make minor trajectory adjustments without steering much. I can also keep it planted, if it's wet for example, so the black bike has great balance. On the red bike I can't lift the front, even if I wanted to do so.

I spent about 10-11 seconds on the gas on the backstretch.

Turn Three, I was flying.

I went as hard as I could into Turn Three. I went a bit wide in the turn, rolling over the manhole cover. It looks like I hit the turn at about 33 mph after peaking at 37 mph on the backstretch. I coasted for about 4 seconds here.

Turn Three exit. I almost hit the curb.

I had to slow a bit as I got a bit preoccupied with the curb exiting the turn. I forced myself to look away from the curb and it ended up okay. Exiting the turn I did a minor jump to hit about 34 mph, passing the two riders just in front of me.

Looking back for any threats.

I started to blow up here, a long way away from the line. I managed about 8 seconds of pedaling before I sat up. This meant I sprinted for just under 20 seconds (with 4 more seconds in there where I was coasting), which is about my normal limit. I'd expect to be able to go 19 seconds in a tough sprint.

After I sat up it took me 20 seconds to get to the line. I think the group behind all tried to individually match me instead of letting one or two guys chase and waiting for 15-20 seconds (like after the turn). If I were back there I'd have waited until after Turn Three and launched an all or nothing effort from there.

I rolled around for a lap and headed to our base camp. Junior greeted me with glee. Or my bike anyway.

Junior greeting me. Pops looking on from his chair.

Junior likes turning the cranks and the wheels.

We got packed up and headed out. No messes, no fusses, and I didn't get totally shelled in the race. A good day.

Edited to add a picture of the Golden Cheetah display of the last lap efforts in speed and HR. Dips are 22 mph, HR maxed out at 172 bpm, about my max.