Training - A Cat 3 Diet

No, I don't mean "A Cat 3's diet" although I suppose that's what I'm referring to in the title because, you know, I'm a Cat 3 and I'm dieting.

Rather than literally I mean it in the sense that I'm talking about a simple, no frills diet. It's the same way people talk about "what's a good crit bike for a Cat 3?"

That question has all sorts of implications built right in.

First, the assumption is that the rider, a Cat 3, will be buying the bike. It'll probably be discounted, maybe as much as an employee discount, but the bottom line is that the rider is paying for the bike. No fancy bikes unless the rider can afford it.

Second, there's this thought that the rider will crash the bike. When you think of what a Cat 3 crit rider should ride versus, say, someone doing a Gran Fondo, you think of different things. The Cat 3 crit rider "needs" something bombproof and easy to maintain. The Gran Fondo rider might be using a more delicate tool, more precise, more refined, perhaps gaining a touch of fragility in the process. The Cat 3 bike needs to be replaceable.

Third, the bike will be used hard. It's not a sunny day bike, it's a tool that the rider uses to propel themselves forward on the road. There will be bumpy road crits, the rider will use the shoulder to move up in a race, and riding through manhole covers and sewer grates will be normal and expected. The Cat 3 bike needs to be durable.

 

Workingman's bike 

You know where I'm going with this.

Diets can be based on a lot of things. Cleansing, protein, whey, no carbs, Atkins, all sorts of anthropological models, yada yada yada. To me those are all a bit more fragile than I want. They require more thought, more energy, more dedication.

They're not for me.

I've been dieting for 81 days, according to MyFitnessPal. 81 days. I emphasize that because when I started I was thinking 30 days ("a month") might be my max, maybe 45 days ("a month and a half"), and definitely nothing over 60 days ("two months").

I'm currently 18.5 lbs lighter than I was when I started, 160.3 lbs this morning. I'd started 81 days ago thinking that losing 10 lbs would be a dream.

Yesterday I ate about 1434 calories of food and went to bed not hungry. The day before that I did a ride and realistically had a net caloric intake of about 800 calories.

If you told me I could do that on Day 2 of my current diet I'd have said you were crazy.

I've been thinking a bit about why the diet is working. If I can put some of those reasons down here then maybe it'll help you with your diet goals.

You know, because I want everyone to beat me when I race. Haha.

Okay, maybe not. So if you promise not to get too much better than me, or at least hide it discretely when you're accidentally riding me off your wheel ("I'm sorry, I was thinking about that clip you had where you bridged that gap and the music that you use in the clips got me all psyched up and I started pedaling too hard" would work), I'll share my thoughts with you.

Keys to a Successful Workingman's Diet.

("Workingman" referring to the nickname for Cat 3 racers, i.e. "The workingman's category". Substitute woman for women.)

First, you have to be fat.

I see guys talking about how they need to lose an extra 10 pounds or whatever and I look at them and think, well, maybe if they cut off their arm they could lose 10 more pounds.

Because they're already skinny.

I'm not talking ProTour diet tips. I don't have anything to offer the skinny people. I'm talking about us regular folk with rolls and stuff. Heck, even after losing 18 pounds I'm still fat - right now I'm realistically at 20% fat, minimum, more like 22% fat. When I started I was in the 28% range.

You with me there? Then keep reading.

In 2010 I was realistically 13-15% fat at my lowest and I was in the 155 lbs range, seeing 149 lbs after a longer ride. I stopped weighing myself once the season got under way because my weight seemed to be stable at 155-158, so I lack the numbers from later in the season, but I suspect I got lighter. However I steadily gained weight from September that year.

So for me the key is to be fat first because that's the only kind of start point I've had for a diet.

Second, don't spend a lot of time thinking about food.

Be aware of it, sure, but don't spend the whole day thinking about it. I don't go about my day thinking about this food or that food. Food is a functional fuel for me, not much more.

A Cat 3 bike isn't the kind of bike you think about. You get to the race, put the wheel or wheels on, check the tire pressure, and ride the thing. It's a rock solid bike that doesn't need babying. Do you care what bar is on there? What post? What chain? Not really. If it isn't broken then you don't need to fix it. Get fancy stuff here and there to reward yourself, like a set of cool wheels. Overall though your mental energy goes elsewhere, not the bike.

My diet approach reflects that. I don't think much about food. I'm aware of when I last ate only because it's easy to eat 3 hours after a meal without realizing it. Making it 4 or 5 reduces the number of meals by one and that makes a significant dent in the total caloric intake.

However I don't go around thinking of what I am not eating, that I can't eat, or particular foods for whatever reason. Even when feeding Junior I manage to separate what he's eating (he likes pizza, fruits, bread, cheese) and what I'm eating (not much pizza at all, not much cheese at all).

Third, don't make it hard on yourself

This is key. Don't make your diet hard on yourself. I remember a friend telling me that "Such and such is serious about racing this year. He's on a diet - this morning I saw him eat some toast with a slice of tomato on it."

Yeah, if I did that I'd be eating my second breakfast about 20 minutes later.

The other thing that wouldn't work for me is "Hey, this is how you make this great food! Just gather these 22 ingredients, combine this, mix that, pour here, and voila, 114 minutes later you're ready to eat! It's fantastic!"

Right.

I timed how long it took me to get breakfast ready this morning. Yes, timed.

I was up at 6:30 or so, maybe 7:00? I don't remember. I wasn't 100% awake so that was normal, but Junior was asleep so I had less distractions.

Luckily I used a timer of sorts to prepare my breakfast - a microwave. This was my breakfast prep:

1. Pour coffee out of the very nice carafe (basically a sealed and insulated carafe so the coffee doesn't taste acrid, and as a bonus there's no hot metal plate thing to burn dripped coffee) into a coffee cup that I pulled out of the cabinet. Time: 20 seconds.
2. Put coffee cup of coffee into microwave, heat. Time: 1:37 (I've been trying to use something other than the 0 for the last digit and I've been using the 8 for a while so now I'm on 7).
3. While coffee is heating put the following in a bowl: 1 cup old fashioned oats, 1/8 cup raisins, 1 tbsp sliced almonds, 1 tbsp brown sugar, water to cover it all. Time: 0 (since I do all this while the coffee is heating).
4. When the coffee is done switch the coffee and oatmeal. Heat/cook oatmeal. Time: 2:30 (using the 0 there).
5. Move coffee and oatmeal spoon to the table while oatmeal heats/cooks.
6. When oatmeal finishes bring bowl to table.

Overall time required to prepare breakfast? 5 minutes, max. It's easy. It's not taxing mentally. Easy to log in MyFitnessPal. Easy to eat.

454 calories. And I'll be good for 4-5 hours.

That's a Cat 3 breakfast.

Fourth, avoid sugar or sugar substitutes.

I'd have argued with this before this diet but now I'd agree that eliminating sugar seems to be helpful. As a corollary eliminating sugar substitutes also seems to help, because the sweet taste makes me miss sugar. Eliminating the taste altogether works better for me.

In 2009, my first diet, I adopted the "bike shop diet" at times. We said that if we were tired a great pick me up was getting a Hostess Twinkies and a Coke.

Bam, instant energy.

And an almost instant sugar crash.

Of course there was an easy remedy - another Twinkies and Coke.

So in 2009 I drank Diet Cokes or Diet Pepsis. One of my standby meals was jam on bread (aka "sugar on carbs"). I ate 100 calorie snack bags of sugary snacks. I had sugary protein shakes. So on and so forth.

I spent a lot of time in a bonky state, dizzy with hunger. I was working a job that required moving around a lot so that helped stave off the bonkiness. I'd sometimes walk around virtually blacked out vision-wise because of these massive head rushes when I stood up.

The reality was that I really wasn't dieting in any kind of sustainable manner.

This round of dieting (which makes it sound like I diet all the time but this is only my second diet in my life) I inadvertently left out sugar early on. I was on such a strict low goal that even a teaspoon of sugar in my coffee seemed wasteful.

So I cut out the sugar.

I also cut out the diet sodas, inadvertently. I decided separately, before the diet, that I really didn't want to pay for drinks, whether going out or even for home, so I for a while I've been drinking just water when we go out. Additionally I hadn't bought sodas or seltzer for a while from the grocery store.

The combination of not much added sugar (and no fake sugar) significant changed my energy levels. I've kept some of the same foods in the diet rotation from 2009, so many of my foods I'm eating now I ate back then. Carbs and proteins, mainly, with certain vegetables and fruits. The changes have been the elimination of regular sugar/sugar-substitutes. This has led to a much more consistent energy level.

In the low calorie days, early on, I definitely had my share of head rushes. For the first week I was fighting the normal bonkiness, with the accompanying shaking and dizziness and cold sweat. However this changed pretty quickly. By the second week of my dieting I realized that I wasn't bonking. I was hungry, okay, but I wasn't dizzy or shaking or breaking out in a cold sweat.

As the weeks went by I realized that I was getting to noon or 1 PM or even 2 PM without feeling excessively hungry. I thought it might be the lack of (added) sugar in my diet. The couple times where I had a (deliciously sinfully incredibly good tasting) sweetened coffee I had a ton of energy for a bit and either got really bonky afterward or went 1000 cal over my goal (I did that once).

So for now I'm avoiding sugar.

For those that see me downing Cokes and RockStars and coffee muffins before races you may wonder what I'll do before races. You know, I don't know, this is uncharted territory for me.

Summary

Overall my diet is pretty straight forward. A Cat 3 diet, if you will. No frills, only a few interesting out-of-the-ordinary things (for me it's the Greek yogurt smoothies I make), easy to prepare, easy to eat, no real mental energy expended.

The reality is that I may be able to extend this kind of diet for a while. I don't have aspirations to turn pro or anything but I race for fun and, trust me, it's a lot more fun when I'm not groveling at the back of the field, praying they slow down. Fitness helps, of course, but I have no idea how much training I'll be doing because I don't know what my schedule will look like even in a month or two from now.

However, regardless of fitness, being light goes a long, long way toward making races more fun. When I accelerate an extra 10 or 20 pounds of weight out of every corner it gets a bit tiring.

 Early 2010, 155 and getting fit. The red bike before it was red.

Double Peak in San Marcos, CA.

I even see off-the-bike benefits. For example carrying Junior has become easier. I had that epiphany after carrying him around a model railroad show for an hour or two. At that point I was a good 10-12 pounds lighter. Suddenly Junior, who tips the scales at about 29-30 pounds, was more like a 17-20 pound kid. That's a huge difference in carrying weight when walking around the Big E.

Another benefit is I can wear the almost new clothes I had in 2010. I only had one year where I fit those clothes and the "heavy" (bodyweight) clothes I have are pretty worn out. Now I have a stack of clothing to choose from that are virtually brand new.

I can see this round's diet being sustainable even during some decent training. I had started the diet with the expectation that I wouldn't be able to train. However, after doing some "make up rides' to expend some excess calories, I find that I'm more fit now than I was during the summer. Even just six weeks into the diet, when I did a few warmer Christmas rides, I felt great climbing the hills with lower weight and higher sustainable power. I went looking for comparisons in climbing the hill out of the complex but ran into a problem - I was pedaling with much more power in December than I was in August or whatever. I climbed the hill on Christmas Day in 0:58 or so, even slowing at the top, and in August/Sept I did it in 1:15-1:20, 2-3 mph slower.

We'll see what happens in the races. In Blackhawk Down one of the characters says, "Politics goes out the window when the bullets start flying." Likewise all this talk about weight and calories and training and stuff goes straight out the window when the race actually starts.

After that it's all about using what you got.

See you out there!

 Picture from a finish at the Rent from slightly skinnier days (2011 or 2012).

Racing - 2014 New Britain Crit, M45 and Cat 3s

My bike, resting.

Podium Ice bottle, no longer a rarity with the new version coming out soon.

I think I have an 11-23 for the cassette.

Nokon housing.

My one light thing - a carbon railed SLR.

Thanks to teammate Heavy D, who grabbed my camera after the M45 race, I have some pictures of me on the bike. This is unusual since normally I'm the one taking pictures with it. Coincidentally my helmet cam failed to stay powered on so I don't have any video. Therefore the pictures Heavy D took are the ones I'll use to narrate the Cat 3 race.

At the start.

I preach about long finger gloves. They save your finger tips on the off chance that you hit the deck and slide on your fingers. It doesn't happen all the time but it's happened to me. I'd rather not repeat that experience so I wear long finger gloves all the time, even training rides in the summer. I sometimes forget them and since it's not a critical thing like a helmet I'll still go for a ride. However you'll almost always find me wearing long finger gloves.

I use a RoadID. I have a heart thing so if I'm unconscious and someone hooks up an EKG thing to me, it'll look like I'm having a heart attack. Since I don't want anyone to do anything to me to try and "fix" my heart, I wear the RoadID. I carry a copy of my EKG in my wallet as well, per my doctor's recommendation.

Manchester Cycle.

They've been a generous and steady supporter of local bike racing for literally decades.

Stickers.

I'm starting again with this bike. Note Outdoor Sports Center, sponsor of the Bethel Spring Series.

Expo Wheelmen.

I race for that club.

M45+

First the M45+. I don't have pictures at all so it'll all be words. I lined up with no warm up, per my Strava. I was running a bit slower than I thought and I didn't feel the need to warm up anyway.

We started off fine, some attacks early on. We had pretty strong winds, with a very strong cross-headwind on the main stretch. I expected a break to go because of that so I figured that I'd go after any bigger move that started rolling away from the field.

One big move went (I think) but I figured it would come back. It did.

Then another, bigger move went. This had a good 10 riders or so, and there were a number of break member teammates in the field. A few of us had missed the move but the chase seemed a bit half hearted. I made a dig, accelerated a bit more than I wanted, and decided to follow through with it. I rolled up to the break within half a lap, connecting on the backstretch. I felt okay, not totally redlined, and I figured that if the break kept at this pace I'd be okay.

Behind me the field seemed strung out but not any more motivated than before. In front of me the break started to splinter, with the front half separating from the rear. Over the top of the hill my chain inexplicably dropped off the big ring, not quite going into the small ring. I must have been in the 53x23, meaning in the big-big, and either stutter pedaled or something to unhook the chain.

I lost a few feet getting the chain back up to the big ring, looked back, and sat up.

By the time we hit the main stretch the field had caught the break. I was definitely working harder than not but I didn't feel in trouble. The field, already a bit stressed, split again, I think under the impetus of some of the stronger riders.

Unbeknownst to me there was an ex-pro in the field, Kurt Begeman, who used to be the resident pro at the velodrome in New Hampshire. Had I known he was in the field I'd have kept track of him, but I didn't so I didn't.

From my tail gunning position I thought the break had come back but it had actually increased its lead so quickly it was around my reference corner (the last one). When I looked it wasn't there so I mentally relaxed. A few laps later I saw that they were actually really far in front, a good 30 seconds or so.

I made another dig, hoping to bring some guys with me, but no luck. Everyone let me blow up out there and a lap later I came back.

Going into the final lap I figured I'd go for the sprint (of course). I actually debated whether I should just sit up and save my legs for the 3s. Ultimately I decided to sprint because I couldn't possibly know what would happen in the 3s. I might crash or flat or get shelled or something because that's what bike racing is all about.

Carpe Diem, right?

Seize the Day, or seize the moment.

An ex-Cat 2 (or 1?), Martin, went really early, gapping off the field I think going clear just before the last turn. My friend (and long time Bethel Spring Series helper) David B sat on his wheel. If they won, so be it, I didn't want to chase them myself.

Another guy followed and I immediately jumped on his wheel. We rounded the last turn and I looked up at Martin and David. They were probably 15-20 meters ahead, a closable gap in the sprint. I knew the powerful headwind would really slow my sprint so I went as soon as I thought I could get to the line.

I thought I'd left it late as it was a big gap to Martin and David, but I think the wind really shattered them. I got past both of them to get 15th. In the Tour that might be good but here at New Britain, not so much.

I'd used up a bunch of water, the day was getting warmer, and I had another race in 2 hours. I realized that I'd made an error in my race supplies - I should have brought more water and some food. Instead I ate a bar, drank some of the precious ice water, and waited. Junior wanted to play and stuff so we played and stuff. Heavy D collected my camera to take pictures of the Cat 4 race. I was hot.

Cat 3

Strava here.

Unusually I'm near the front. Cat 3s.

I didn't intend to line up near the front, I just rolled up whenever and there were more people than I expected in the field. Naturally since I lined up with at least one rider behind me I screwed up my clip in. I apologized to the rider that had to pass me as I clipped in and we were under way.

The Stingers in action.

My teammate Heavy D took control of my camera, with the 55-200 zoom, and snapped away. He'd try to cheer us on while taking pictures. You can tell when he was cheering because there's a whole lot of pavement and grass. The laps where he wasn't cheering there's a bunch of cyclists in the frame. The above picture is one of the in-between ones.

This is interesting. Note the gaps between wheels and such.

Cat 3 race so we're all reasonably experienced.

Keep in mind that the wind really socks us hard from the front left after this turn. Tactically speaking then it would make perfect sense to be shielded to the wind side, i.e. to the front left. This means riders should be exiting the turn behind and to the right of the rider in front of them, giving them optimal protection immediately.

The picture above doesn't show much of that.

Now note the tight formation, center screen.

The crafty guys at the back of the field are a bit better. You can see we're in our own mini-echelon. The rider in orange, the rider  with the white helmet, they're in the wind for no reason whatsoever, using enormous amounts of energy and gaining nothing.

Another picture of the tight formation.

We're overlapped to the right because the wind is hitting us from the left. The two riders in front of me have multiple national titles between them and both are former Olympians for other countries. I'm not so good but at least I know what's up.

A shot of the "kick over the top" pedal stroke I have.

Here the wind wasn't as powerful so being close wasn't as important.

I don't have long legs, as evident in this picture, but I run 175mm cranks. It just works better for me, now that I've lost a lot of leg speed. 25 years ago I was using 167.5mm cranks, and in about 1995 I started using 170s. Over the 2003-2004 winter I started using 175s. I thought 170s would be faster so I tried to go back to them in 2008 and then again in 2011. I tried for most of a season each time, starting sometime in the prior fall (typically Oct/Nov to July/Aug). Both times I went back to the 175s and immediately had better results. It wasn't the power, which I found didn't change much at all, it was how that power translated into fatigue and results. The 175s just work better for me.

Although technically I was okay sitting at this part of the course, at the top of the hill, I needed to stretch my legs out a bit. As the second race of the day my legs were getting fatigued. I also ran out of water so that didn't help on this hot and humid day.

Coasting and stretching. I'm pressing my right thigh against the left side of the saddle.

I'm coasting here, trying to stretch my legs out a bit. The standing at the top of the hill helped but I still needed to do something, my legs felt really blocked and fatigued.

Last wheel in the field, suffering.

I'm last wheel here and not very close to the next rider. This was in the first curve and the trees break up the wind. Still, though, I should be a bit closer.

This picture, more than the earlier ones, shows that I really need to lose weight. No muscle definition - my body fat is in the 25% range, give or take. I'm realistically 20 pounds heavier than I could be, than I was in 2010, and in 2010 I still wasn't really cut/defined. Someone calculated my lean body mass is in the 130s so 10% body fat would put me in the 140s. It'd be nice to be in the 150s again.

More suffering.

We're exiting the tree area I think and I'm closer to the wheels. However I'm still suffering, still at my limit.

My ContourHD didn't work in the Masters race so I removed it for the Cat 3s. You can see the mount on the helmet. No camera though.

Also you'll note that I have no SRM. I forgot it at home.

I ran out of water pretty early in the race, saving a few sips "just in case". At about 10 to go I started thinking about stopping. It was hot, there was a break up the road, and I wasn't recovering at all.

Then, at 8 laps to go, the sun disappeared behind some clouds. It was still bright, mind you, but the sun wasn't beating down on us. I could feel my body start to shed some of that excess heat, finally getting ahead of the recover curve. I hoped that the sun would stay hidden, and it did, at least until it was too late to cook me again.

Sprinting for 13th. I was 12th when I sat up, my wheel just in front of that tall rider to my right.

I would have sworn up and down that there were 20 riders ahead of me.

I was so far back going into the sprint that I really didn't feel like sprinting. On the other hand I'd worked so hard just to get to the finish that I decided to give it a go, even as I saw riders 10-20 feet in front of me sitting up.

I didn't have a good jump and my legs were twinging even as I jumped but I kept going. The pedals turned really slowly, no 105 rpm sprint like last time. I know when I'm not sprinting well because my butt gets lower and lower, and that's what was happening in this sprint. At some point I started to pass a tall, skinny rider, the archetypal non-sprinter, and my legs told me I was done.

I sat up and the other guy passed me back. I saw three guys at the line within passing distance, including the tall guy, but at best I might have gotten past those. No way I could have caught anyone further up.

Ends up I was 13th so if I'd done a reasonable sprint I probably could have gotten 10th. No better though, especially based on the fact that I really couldn't move up in the last lap. If I was so blown that I couldn't move up then I was really on edge in the race itself.

The good thing is that I finished the races disappointed in the Masters to have missed the break and disappointed in the 3s to have screwed up the finish. Previously I'd have been psyched just to finish. I'd bumped up my training in June to 16 hours, double that of May, and more than April and May combined. In July I've already done 10 hours and we're only halfway through the month.

Note the last day's bar in July is taller than any day except that tall day in late January.

Incredibly, with the EVEN Hotel recon ride later that day, this would be the longest day of the year for me since January, and in fact it was the second longest day of the year on the bike period.

With that my next big day is the EVEN Hotel Fun Ride coming up on Thursday morning.

No Tuesday Night CCAP Race tonight due to the thunder, lightning, flood watch, and all that. I even got an emergency broadcast message on my phone. Tomorrow I'm heading down to the EVEN Hotel thing. This weekend is booked solid with family stuff. Next Tuesday there's no race - I may try to figure out a way to do the Wednesday Night race at Ninigret, which is withering on the vine. Hm, they're off next week also. I guess my next race will be Limerock on the 27th? M40 and Cat 3.

Well, I guess that's okay. One way of looking at it is that I'll have time to train a bit. Imagine that.

Helmet Cam - 2013 Keith Berger Crit, June 23, Cat 3s

This has been a long time coming. The clip involved some technical challenges that I hadn't faced before (having to do with volume in the finished clip not being what I hear in iMovie, forcing me to guess at what levels to set the volume), a lot of editing (6 or 7 iterations before I was moderately happy with the text), and of course a lot of material.
The race is from June of this year, the Keith Berger Crit promoted by CVC. I have never done well here, never finished well, but it's always an engrossing race. Results here, my report here.
Enjoy!

Racing - June 23, 2013 Keith Berger Crit Cat 3s

The Keith Berger Crit. This is a standard crit for me now. It has some significance to me at different levels. I met and raced against Keith Berger at Bethel. Back then he was "the guy in purple" because he wore a generic purple jersey. It didn't matter what he wore - he demolished the field, winning from breaks and winning field sprints. He quickly moved out of the 3s and therefore disappeared from my week to week race interactions. I might have seen him line up in a P123 race but I'd be at the back and he'd be at the front. I wouldn't call what I did "racing" and his Cat 2 status put him in different races or at different ends of the field if we were in the same race.

Another significant thing is that in 2011 the Missus was pregnant when we came to the race. We didn't know it at the time but Junior was already a tiny ball of cells. Although the race wasn't a resounding success for me (I sat up in the last lap of the P123 race) it wasn't bad either. The bonus was a short time later when we found out that Junior was on his way.

Nowadays the Keith Berger Crit is much closer to home. It makes it a home race, if you will, just like any race at New Britain and all the races at the Rent (@TuesdayTheRent). It's a quick jaunt down the highway and presto, we're at the race.

Today was supposed to be okay in the morning, like mid 70s, and warming up to the mid-80s by the midafternoon.

Right.

When we got there it was already in the 80s, and by the time my race finished it was 93 degrees (95 degrees after we got going).

Unfortunately I played it pretty close to the edge in terms of ice water and such. I was so confident in the 80 degree max forecast that I gave a precious bottle of ice water to a teammate (who, it turned out, suffered from heat exhaustion, so I'm glad he had some ice water). I even skipped installing the second bottle cage on my bike.

So Mister Unprepared started the race with one half full bottle of ice water in his pocket and one full bottle of ice water in the single bottle cage mounted to the frame. Not a lot for a 30 lap race (which was another thing - I didn't bother checking the race distance).

30 laps, 1 1/2 bottles, really hot... not good.

On the plus side we had a very solid team. Two of us had some legs - Mike and Jeff - and three of us had our life excuses - Chris, Rick, and myself. We all started out with the plan of no-plan: "Let's see how it goes". My thoughts ran along the lines of seeing if I could help Mike or Jeff. I held outside hopes on Chris and Rick, both of whom tend to understate their fitness and who try to make the most of a good situation.

Lining up for the start.

As I told the guys before the start, I've been good for 20-30 minutes in each of the races I'd done for the last few weeks. I feel great at the start, fantastic. At White Plains I started plotting how to approach the last lap just two laps into the race.

The problem is that this feeling of "good legs" goes flying out the window at about minute 20. From there it's a death march until I either get shelled or, infrequently, roll across the finish in the middle of the field.

My plan then was to go hard in the first 20 minutes or so, look for a prime or two, and then see how long I could last. This meant that when I saw a move go early in the race I tried to go with it.

Watching a move develop on the right side.

A guy in green and orange dieseled his way off the front. A CLR guy (they've been riding super strong recently) jumped across to him. A few more riders seemed to dwaddle off the front of the field so I went by to try to catch the train before it left the station.

Move is coalescing - I go.

The guy in green and orange just pulled like a locomotive, but we didn't have the speed to get that initial gap which is so important. Also the CLR guy on his wheel didn't want to pull and, honestly, I was rapidly running out of gas. I looked back a few turns later and the field was strung out on my wheel.

The counter after the field caught the move.

A slew of counter moves spelled the end of our little escapade and most of us sank into the field. I actually passed the green guy as he drifted back a bit more than me. The CLR guy... there were enough of them that I couldn't keep them straight.

A short time later a BANG and that familiar but sickening sound of metal on the ground.

A lap later the guy that pulled for that first move blew a tire.

The green orange guy had most of his tire off the rim, tube hanging out. He obviously had a massive tire failure. Unfortunately the guy that took the brunt of the hurt was a CLR rider, an unwitting accessory to the incident. I think I know who it was but I don't want to say because I don't know for sure. Whatever, I think he's a regular at Bethel and it was unpleasant seeing him on the ground.

The field neutralized itself on its own, racing just a lap until we all passed by the crash scene and the rider was still down. At that point racing become secondary to the fate of the rider on the deck. CLR went to the front to set a steady tempo, even when the bell rang for a prime. No one sprinted and the officials neutralized the prime.

Until the officials neutralized the race the CLR guys neutralized it.

I felt pleasantly surprised to see the solidarity among the racers. The guy on the ground was getting proper attention so we just eased. It wasn't easy for me, mind you, but it was definitely a step down in terms of throttle.

Red flagged race.

The officials neutralized the race, making official what we had collectively already done. We all stopped on the shade side of the road, a couple guys topped off their bottles (me included, when a teammate David came by with ice water), and we waited. The officials didn't seem super absorbed in damage control so I felt the rider's injuries were "normal", if you will.

We got started with two alleged neutral laps before the racing started showing 20 to go. After one neutral lap they rang the bell. There was a schedule to try and keep so we got down to racing quickly. The neutral lap was good though - everyone could sort of get back into it, no racing from the gun on legs that got a bit cold.

CLR's Nutmeg State Champ

The race winning break went, although we didn't know it at the time. At some point I'd said to Mike and Chris that I was working for Jeff. They nodded their agreement and so it was. Rick had suffered heat exhaustion at this point and had dropped out of the race. Some ice water, some hanging out in the shade with his wife and very young son, and he seemed to be okay.

Jeff launching, trying to get across to the break.

Jeff didn't know that we'd all decided to work for him and at some point, with Mike driving the field trying to keep the break within shouting distance, Jeff launched. He attracted one other rider and together they tried to ride away from the field. Unfortunately after a lap they hadn't gotten the gap and the two slid back into the field.

Crash. Riders at all sorts of lean angles.

If the crash split the race into two parts (and created the first defining moment) then the second defining moment was the crash in Turn Two. The field was all together, riding at a reasonable pace (not insanely fast, not stupid slow), and suddenly sliding metal and carbon fiber.

Riders went around the crash in both directions. As I rolled by I couldn't help but notice a bare carbon rim on the back of one of the two bikes.

Culprit: rolled tire off that back wheel.

A rolled tire.

It doesn't matter how the tire rolled, it's just a bad thing. In fact it's against the rules. Luckily only one other rider went down and it wasn't really bad because we weren't going that fast. I mean, okay, I'm sure it wasn't pleasant for the unfortunate victim (the tire roller doesn't count) but still, no ambulance call and such.

After the crash there were huge gaps in the field. Huge. Like Grand Canyon huge.

Gaps after the rolled tire crash. I'm about to pull through.

Note position in the lane. Zipcar guy holds basically a straight line.

I followed two guys, a Zipcar and another guy. The Zipcar guy was fading so the other guy went right. He wasn't going that fast so I went left and started yet another diesel pull. I'd been doing this to close gaps here and there because my legs lacked the snap to go fast whenever.

I drew up to and past the Zipcar guy, trying to hold station in the middle of the lane, when suddenly the Zipcar guy started hollering.

"Watch your line!"

His hollering turned to gibberish as he tried to retain control of his bike. The guy to his right was now to my right - he'd just slammed the door shut on the hapless Zipcar guy.

Pulling through.

The guy to my right moved over a few feet, squeezing the guy between us.

Note I'm almost on the yellow line now. I've moved over a few feet even after clearing the Zipcar guy.

I told him to pull when he pulled through. I suppose I should have said something about holding your line. Whatever, I moved over to the left to give the guy room, in case he wanted to come over more. He got on my wheel and I set about closing the gap to the CLR guy ahead of us.

Ironically Mike was pulling the CLR guy. I didn't realize he was there until they went through a turn - that's when I realized there was an Expo in front of the CLR guy. If I hadn't pulled so hard I think a bunch of riders would have been out of contention. As it was I inadvertently brought a bunch of competitors back to Mike.

Many of the riders sat up - the announcer said that half the field had given up. I'm wondering now if there was a crash back there. A friend in the race said there were four crashes and I only saw two. If there was one when the guy came across the Zipcar guy's wheel then that would make sense.

I found myself in trouble, desperate trouble. I worked super hard to bridge the gap after the crash, watched others fly past me, and hung on for dear life. Then I was done, dead legs, mid field.

I'm exploded and gapped.

I felt totally wasted, unable to move. Of course my body was automatically trying to recover so while I was busy letting people pass me my heart rate was dropping, my legs recovering, and when I looked up I realized that, okay, I'm not totally blown.

I put my head down and ground the big gear back up to speed. Curiously I found that my legs weren't cramping at all today. I pushed big gears, could keep pushing, and somehow my bike kept going. I just couldn't go fast, that was the limiter.

I persevere and claw my way back on (this is before I'm "on").

I had much higher speed going into the turn, and combined with the fact that I didn't have to take others into consideration it meant that I could corner at full speed. This got me back on the back of the group.

Unfortunately the guy in front of me started to disintegrate just as I got on his wheel. I knew it was inevitable but for whatever reason I waited until he sat up a bit before I moved over. He was waving his hand in the "pass me, I'm done" fashion as I rode past.

Of course 100 meters later I need to close another gap.

This gap hurt me but it felt much smaller than the prior gap. I pushed hard again, big gear, just rolling it, and managed to get back on.

With that clawing back on move I realized that, okay, I may make it to the finish. I had no sprint left in my legs, no jump, not even now, but I knew I could make one more diesel type grinding effort.

(As a sprinter you learn real quick your ration of jumps and sprints, and, as you lose your sprint, you start getting a ration of the slower, longer burning "diesel" moves.)

I decided I'd do a 100% effort on the last lap. I figured Jeff would get into reasonable position - he is really good at doing that - but I could get him into great position. If nothing else I could ride next to him and give him some shelter, or I could get on his wheel and force others to pass one more rider before they could pass Jeff.

I rallied on the backstretch - I knew I had just one shot. Luckily the pace wasn't insane so I could move from pretty far back of the field.

Last lap, back stretch, Jeff in the red, as I cleared the Lump.

I got around the "Lump" that forms just behind the head of the field and immediately spotted Jeff about 7th wheel. I figured I might be able to get past the front of the field before the 3rd turn so I ground my way past a couple more guys, eased in a bit, and hollered a very curt, "Jeff!"

He saw, I checked to see that someone moved, and someone did, I hoped Jeff was there, and then I tried to drive it home. 

Unfortunately in my decrepit state I had no speed. I only managed to pass the leadout guy after he blew up so I was third going into the third turn (where, apparently, the leadout guy went straight, taking someone with him). The guy on my wheel, a seemingly less experienced racer, couldn't stay on my wheel (I couldn't see back there but he'd been cornering a bit wobbly before so I figure that trend continued) and so we had a slight gap going into the second last stretch. I had stopped pedaling, waiting for the wave of riders to engulf me, but when no wave hit me I had to try and close the gap.

Last lap, just before last turn.

We went into the last turn, my legs like wood. I had no sprint for sure, no jump, and now I had no diesel. I had absolutely nothing left. I pedaled squares and triangles for a few seconds and then a bunch of guys flew by me.

Jeff was one of the first ones. I don't know how he did in the sprint (we never really bothered figuring that out) but he was second I think, maybe third. That was good enough for me.

Overall the race went well. I went in thinking I'd race for 20 minutes in 75 degree temperatures. Instead I raced for over an hour in 80-93 degree temperatures, used everything I had in my legs, and helped a teammate even when I was at the end of my tether.

As a bonus a young rider I know did just his second race in the Juniors. He approached me, with his parents, at Bethel this year, with a few questions, and things grew from there. I've been trying to help him with a solid approach to racing, trying to give him some guidance to see him through the very tough times that most young Juniors face. He's shown a sense of humor about the whole thing, like when he wryly reported that he got lapped "about 15 times" in his first race (it was way fewer than that). In today's Keith Berger race he did well, working with a chase group, behind the "older" racers, and finished with a good sprint.

Although it's good when I can do okay in a race, it's a bit more rewarding to accomplish something as a team. It's fun to work together with other riders, even if it's not for a race winning thing. If, by working together, we can elevate one rider above their solo potential, then we've accomplished something. If I hadn't closed a gap, if Mike hadn't closed a gap, if Chris hadn't closed a gap, would the field have had the same sprint it did? It's hard to say, but the fact remains that we all worked hard so that one of us, Jeff in this case, could try and optimize his performance.

Even more interesting is to try and guide someone on their own foray into racing. It's tough because I can't do anything for them once they start the race. I'm sort of helpless watching from the sidelines, hollering something here and there but otherwise unable to do much. I have to let them try it on their own, let them experience the disappointment and ecstasy that come with racing.

It's tough because I know that as a new father this is something that I will be experiencing for the rest of my life, with a huge emphasis in the next 5 or 10 or 15 years. It'll be interesting, that's for sure.

(Note: I don't identify most people fully for privacy reasons, except pros and such. I won't identify kids - it's why I call Junior Junior - for the same reason. I have a feeling I'll be writing about the young rider more but since I already christened RTC as Young Rider I need to think of a different name.)