Racing - Chris Hinds Criterium, March 30, 2019 - 4th and a great day with Junior

Chris Hinds (and a blog post). I don't think I'll be posting a lot but I'd like to do race reports and some misc stuff this year. I want to do some race reports for the Frozen Four but have to gather cam footage and such.

I also want to make a race clip out of this one but I have to get a working Mac first! We'll see when I can make that happen.

Anyways...

This is a race that I've skipped for forever for two reasons. First, while I was running the Bethel Spring Series, this race was on a day I spent prepping for the following day's Bethel race. On the rare occasions there was no Bethel race the following day I often skipped it out of sheer fatigue. Second, after Bethel ended, meaning the years 2016-2018, I skipped it because I was sorely out of shape at that time. It being a 2 hour drive, I didn't want to drag the Missus and Junior along if I was going to do just a few laps. The final reason is that it's during tax season, and the Missus can't come to the race. I try not to race much with her not there.

This year is the first year I've had some fitness since 2015. I did a few days of intervals, have been riding to keep my sanity, and managed to stay at a high reasonable weight. I've stayed in the 170s, instead of 180s, which isn't terrible for me. As a reference point I dropped to 158 lbs in 2010 and slayed it in the races, and in 2015 I was 163 for a bit and won once and got third three times. If I can drop below 170 it'll be fantastic, and if I can get below 160 that'll really change my racing. The reality though is that the 170 mark is my realistic target.

With tax season keeping the Missus busy, I relied on my teammate Joel to look after Junior while I raced. We got to the race a bit early to watch Joel race but only caught the last two laps. Then Junior rode his bike for at least an hour while I chased him around on foot. We tried without training wheels for a bit, but my back and his patience ran out. Reinstalling the training wheels, he zipped around pretty much the rest of the day.

With Junior in Joel's care (complete with a packed lunch courtesy the Missus), I kitted up for the race. I was feeling decent for the race, just wondering if my fitness was up for it. I had my trusty bike with my trusty race wheels.

My bike, Junior's bike.

Race wheels on my bike, training wheels on Junior's. Heh.

Number

I had to re-pin the number. I initially pinned it to a wind vest, with the wind and all. But then as the sun cut through the clouds I realized I'd be hot in the vest. I raced with the number pinned to my jersey.

M50+ start - a huge field

The first race I ever finished was at Ninigret. I realized while on the drive down that in a few years it'll have been FORTY YEARS since I started racing. And, back in 1983, I finished the Junior race at Ninigret.

It's not 40 years yet so don't get that stuck in your head. It's only been 37 years.

A lot has changed here over the years. The course used to be all the black pavement, WW2 airfield stuff, with tires lining the course. They'd stack four or five tires at the apex of the turns - you'd sometimes rub against them during the race. If you got shoved it was bad, you had to navigate between tires else you'd flip over the bars.

And you really, really, really didn't want to flip over the bars. The airfield asphalt was like sticky pavement, just grabbed you if you fell. There was no sliding at Ninigret, even in the rain, and the pavement really tore you apart if you fell.

Now it's paved in regular pavement, with grassy borders. You slide if it's wet. The low bushes near the second last straight that used to obscure the riders' hubs are now 10 feet tall and impossible to see through.

But some things haven't changed. It's windy here, always. It punishes those that can't corner or draft. And, for the sprint, it generally rewards those that start the sprint near the front.

Strung out bit.

Within a few laps the race was strung out. The single file laps are the hard ones, and this race had maybe 5 laps like this. I think if there were another 5-8 laps like this the race would have blown apart. But before the strong riders could shatter the field they shattered themselves, and the race calmed down.

Accidentally near the front of the group.

At some point I accidentally went way up front, seeking shelter. The main straight had wind hitting from the right so you have to be left of the wheel. I got stranded on the right and moved up to find shelter, finally giving up when I was at the front. I quickly eased, let riders pass me, and got myself buried in the field where I belong.

5 to go.

At five to go I was still there, and, if you'll notice, just to the left of the rider in front. Sheltered in the field, things seemed okay.

2 to go. Lots of riders ahead.

At two to go it was still together but guys had been moving up all over the place. I was near the back of the field and realized I really needed to move up. I didn't want to be clawing my way from the back on the last lap.

2 to go - I'm pretty far from the front.

Unfortunately the race strung out and I rode too politely. I waited for someone entering a corner, got on their wheel, and then.. they left a gap! I had to close it with a bit of effort.

Bell lap. Ugh.

At the bell I was much further back than I'd planned. The little dig on the backstretch used up my allotted reserves for that lap and now I had to do exactly what I didn't want to do - claw my way to the front from deep within the field.

Rider to the right was dropping anchor, rider from the left swooping in.

The first few turns were kind to me, the back stretch okay, but as we entered the right turn off the back stretch, things got about as wiggly as it got during the last lap. The guy to my right slammed his brakes on, trying to avoid grass surfing (on a prior lap about 8 riders took to the grass). At the same time the rider to my left (orange/yellow) was diving in, much tighter than the rider in front of him (in blue/black).

Very close to the rider on the left, probably an inch or so to his wheel.

The rider in the orange/yellow ended up just barely touching my wheel - I was doing some hip swaying, bar pushing, etc, to avoid contacting him. It worked out, I got on his wheel, and it was good.

Second last turn, still too far back.

Going into the second last turn I was on his wheel, still uncertain about the guy to my right. I briefly tried to stay on orange/yellow's wheel but decided to let him have it, but then he didn't get on the wheel. We were both a bit stranded.

Second last stretch, wind from right, need to go left.

As we exited that second last turn, the wind hit us from the right. I wanted to go left but I was afraid of committing myself too early. In hindsight I probably should have moved up a few spots, maybe 2 in front of the orange/yellow, but at that moment I wanted to wait a bit.

Last turn, no real room to sprint, want to jump toward left.

My punishment for waiting was to get boxed in by riders moving up on the left. We went into the long, two stage last turn, and I had riders to both sides of me. I had a jump, I wanted to use it, but I needed some room before I let the nitro explode.

Onto the final straight, no room still.

As the riders hit the straight I expected them to stay to the left, to deny riders behind shelter. Instead they moved right. I just needed an opening to go.

Left side opened up, boom, jumped hard.

Then the rider to the left went a bit more left than everyone else. It opened a gap, I took it, and launched as I shifted up. It felt pretty good, but the numbers don't lie - I barely managed to break 1100 watts.

It wasn't a very good jump.

Legs failed at this point, wattage plummeted.

Kicker is that the race winner is right there and I closed half the gap to him in a few seconds.

Worse yet was within five seconds my legs were done. I'd averaged 991 watts for 5 seconds, and about 850 watts for 10 seconds. With a 13 second sprint, my average power was down to about 825w.

In contrast, couple weeks prior, I averaged 1030 watts for 5 seconds and sustained almost 1000 watts for 10 seconds. So compared to that other sprint earlier this year, I really faltered in this one.

Managed to pip Dave at the line, and barely beat a guy to my left.

HR is high for me, 171, and it probably climbed after the sprint finished.

Earlier in the day Junior asked me if I wanted to beat one of the riders hanging out before the race. Taken aback, I thought about it. I realized that I don't go into a race wanting to "beat someone". I start a race wanting to do the best that I can do, no regrets.

So as my legs fell away in the sprint, I kept pushing, because I didn't want to tell Junior after the race that I gave up. I didn't want to think back at this race and wonder what would have happened had I kept pushing. So even though my wattage fell off a cliff, even though my legs felt like they were stuck in molasses, I kept pedaling. And, eventually, after an interminably long sprint, I managed to cross the line in fourth. I had no idea, and in fact I was hoping I was within the top 10 so - I thought everyone passed me at the line.

Some numbers for the day:
Peak: 1122w
5s: 991w
13s: 827w (sprint length)

Avg: 178w (race - pretty high for me)

Strava link (power data is not on Strava)

Junior approaching the line on his bike

As the course opened for a few minutes Junior asked if he could do a lap. We started out well, the next field lined up, but I realized that we'd run out of time - we'd be finishing the lap as the racers hit the main straight. So we turned left onto the grass, waited for the racers to pass, then he hit the course for the final 50 meters to the line.

The official was understanding enough to let us ride to the line, even with a race underway. Little judgment calls like letting us cross the line makes a huge difference in the impression racing leaves on a kid, and I managed to capture the following because of it.

Bike throw with Junior!

My favorite bike throw of the day. I tried to time it perfectly so he'd pip me at the line, and so he did.

It'll be a few weeks before I can race again, maybe even May, but so far the season has been good. I'll have to pick and choose my races but that's normal. My goal will be to do well at New Britain, and try to partake in some of the Tues night races (instead of just hanging on).

We'll see how it goes.

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 - 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 - 2015 Circuit Walnut Hill, Aetna Nutmeg Spring Series

I've been a bit negligent with the blog. I don't know how I'll approach writing about the last 5 weeks since it's no longer timely, but I'll deal with it somehow.

Of course, now that the busy period is almost over, I have something to write about, namely the last race of the 2015 Aetna Nutmeg Spring Series.

I didn't realize it at first but I'd been sick from the first ANSS race on. I blew in the first race after feeling horrible for 3/4 of the race, I stopped in the second after a similar horrific last 3/4 of the race, and I didn't even bother getting my number for the third. The Easter Sunday break, April 5th, worked out great for me as I finally worked through the full blown flu/cold/whatever I had. The process involved a couple days in bed, coughing up blood and such, but finally, like magic, things cleared up.

Training for the last 5 weeks - note that the week before the first race I basically stopped training.

Two more factors. I've been taking part in a VO2 max study in which I've promised to do two sets of 5 to 7 minute intervals each week, about an hour of riding (the one hour long midweek rides above are the intervals). Because of this commitment to someone else's thing I've been good about doing the study's efforts, despite feeling horrible and all that. In fact if I wasn't doing the study I realistically wouldn't have trained very much in March at all. As it was I often pushed back the Tue/Thu intervals to Wed/Fri because I was just too tired/fatigued/sick on Tuesday to do anything. These are very long efforts for me, something I normally don't do.

The other factor is Zwift. It's a new online game type thing that lets you ride virtually with others. Using a "dumb trainer", my CycleOps Fluid 2, along with an Ant+ speed/cadence sensor (I already had it for the 4iiii Sportsiiiis) and an Ant+ dongle (which I had to buy), I could ride on Zwift's island. This had the effect of motivating me to do some unusual efforts on the trainer, namely repeated 10 second max effort sprints to try and win the Green Jersey. Like the intervals above, these 10 second all out sprints are very atypical of my trainer workouts.

Zwift screenshot after my best Green Jersey sprint.

An 8 second sprint is about 1100w sustained on my trainer.

Just before the last Aetna race I also did a couple big efforts to try and get a real KOM time on Zwift island. It took me a solid 1:25 to get up the hill, another effort length totally out of the ordinary for me.

I'll do a post on Zwift so I'll leave it at that for now.

Part of my VO2 max study has me doing some core work. It's both relaxing and super good for my back, so that's helped a lot with both stress as well as just being able to function with a normal back.

I'll do a post on what I did, pending an okay from the testers, so I'll leave that as well for now.

So to recap I've been doing some different training on the trainer, mid-length intervals 5-7 minutes long, some 90 second efforts, and all out 10 second efforts. My core strength is up and my back feels much better than it did at the beginning of May.

As the last Aetna race approached I felt better overall health-wise. The big sign was when I went to get into the shower one day. You know how you have a set spot for the shower controls? You know that, okay, this is where you put it for the summer, this is where you put it for the winter, and if you go beyond this it's too hot.

Well I'd been running a fever of sorts for weeks, walking around feeling cold for weeks. My "normal spot" on the shower control was pretty hot because I'd be shivering whenever I got into the shower.

A couple days before the last race I got into the shower, temperature control set as normal based on the last month of showers, and immediately jumped out.

It was so hot I felt like I'd get scalded.

I checked to see if maybe I set it super hot but no, it was my normal for the last month and change. I couldn't believe how hot I had the shower set for the past month, and at the same time I felt like maybe I was finally getting better because that "comfortably warm" setting was now "uncomfortably hot".

Race day dawned pretty warm. No stresses about snow and such (more on that in later posts) so my morning was pretty relaxed.

It helped that the Missus prepared food enough for a good dozen hungry bike racing type people. I didn't have to worry about food throughout the day, eating twice, snacking once or twice. I had my first Coke since last November (or earlier). The staff were well in the groove of things so in terms of marshaling and registration things moved nice and smoothly. On the other hand I had to do the overall presentations and such so I was scrambling after each race.

Still, though, I managed to get my bike all set, a set of wheels in the wheel pit, pin my number, and my kit on.

The pin job.

I was ready to race.

(The only thing that I missed was that the SRM speed pickup got nudged so the SRM didn't auto-start when the race started. This meant I only captured 12 minutes of data when I looked at the SRM for the first time with basically 5 or so laps to go. That sort of illustrates how little I look at my SRM during a race.)

The Missus and Junior showed up but I barely had a chance to say hi to them before we started the race and we started the race a few minutes late so I could take the Women's podium pictures.

The race situation was that our teammate Stan was in the overall lead but he couldn't make this last race due to work. Therefore we had to try to shut out the second place guy, Mike, from the points. It was sort of tough because Mike is a good guy, a friend, and so maybe we weren't quite as cutthroat as we might have been.

Stan and Mike got all their points in breaks so we figured that the ideal situation would be to keep it together for a field sprint and try to keep Mike from scoring points by having other riders take the places in the field sprint. The alternate plan was if Mike showed up with his normal field-crushing legs (during the series he soloed to a win at a different race, 3 minutes ahead of the field) then we wanted at least 5 guys to go with him and have them all beat Mike at the finish. Heavy D would go with Mike and we hoped that another 4 "better sprinters" would join them. We needed to keep Mike at 6th or 7th place. If he got 5th he'd take the Series from Stan.

To be honest we'd all sort of given up on protecting the overall. When Mike is on form he can ride a whole field off his wheel. We felt more optimistic about preserving the team's overall lead in the team standings.

During one point early in the race I saw Mike moving up, carefully and in a calculated way, broadcasting his intent to attack. Heavy seemed in good position so I moved up hard, let Heavy know that Mike looked anxious, then did a big pull to try and stress the field. Such a move would encourage a break to go and if we could get a big enough group away then we'd had a chance at keeping Mike at 6th place.

Doing my "tempt the break to go" pull, holding 30-32 mph.

I happen to be going through the start/finish area.

Obviously if a group of 5 or fewer got away, with Mike in it, we'd have to bring them back.

Point was moot as Mike couldn't escape. Unbeknownst to us he'd done massive work the prior day at a different race, soloing for a while, bonking, and basically crushing himself for today.

So with Mike mysteriously not soloing away from us the laps counted down to the finish. The field stuck together, despite some strung out times, and things started looking good for the sprint.

And that meant it looked good for me.

This was the first week I felt healthy and the 20 pound weight loss compared to last year made the hill a good place, not a struggle. I held back on the hill most laps - if I made even a little move I'd move right to the front. It felt good and I figured that I could move up pretty hard on the hill on the last lap, get through the last turn in the top 5 or 7, and try to win the sprint like that.

Bell lap.

At the bell I was a bit far back, but that was okay. I felt pretty confident about being able to move up hard between the top of the hill and the last turn.

Getting a bit tight.

Note who's to the right?

Just after the start/finish, when the course curved left, things got a bit tight. I waited behind a Foundation rider (based on the helmet cam video), as the tactical situation seemed somewhat stable.

Green/yellow guy Kevin shows up to the right, this time for real.

I didn't know it but the key to my race showed up as we headed onto the backstretch. It was Kevin of Claremont Cycle Depot, the guy in the green/yellow kit to the right. He'd made the trip down from VT and didn't want to leave without making a go of it. He started moving up hard with half a lap to go.

Foundation rider and Kevin come together.

With a bit of wiggling going on the Foundation rider ended up contacting Kevin who had been following another rider up the right side.

Foundation rider pushing off.

After a little bit of contact the Foundation rider moved off. You can see how suddenly the others gave them a bit of room, with Kevin heading to the right to move away from the contact.

I used that contact to move over to Kevin's wheel.

I almost lost the wheel here as I started to run out of room after getting squeezed from the left.

This actually opened things for me as I ended up on Kevin's wheel. I wanted to be to the right, the wind protected side on the hill, so I could make my move/s. This meant not fighting to stay on the Foundation wheel. I wanted the right curb and Kevin was there so I moved onto his wheel.

Kevin starts to go.

As we hit the hill I was hoping that Kevin would go, else I'd be boxed in. Fortunately for me he started going. At first I just felt relief as I didn't have to squeeze all the way right. I expected him to tuck in just behind the front but Kevin kept accelerating.

Hard.

Rear wheel skip.

He actually dug his pedal, skipping his wheel to the side, and kept going full gas. I closed up over the top of the hill, the bit where I felt best on this course. I was feeling good, letting myself do some work without having to hold back. When I checked the power file after the race I saw that I'd done a pretty solid effort, doing an 800w jump to go with Kevin.

Kevin putting in a big dig.

Instead of looking around Kevin put his head down and kept going. He wasn't just moving up, he was making his last move for the race.

Kevin telling me to go.

Kevin eased (blew?) about 10 seconds after we went flying past the front. He turned to me and yelled, "Go! Go! If you don't go we're gonna lose!"

My first thought was that if I went then he would lose. I looked back and realized that we were just about leading out the field. In a thousand races I'd never have thought of going from the front but for some reason I went. I abandoned Kevin and try to get a gap before the last turn.

The view from Douglas, who was leading the field, as I jumped.

I was just a few meters in front.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

I jumped, the field a few lengths back, and thought for sure I was throwing away the race. I didn't do a full on jump because I figured I was leading out the field. I needed to do a fake jump, just enough to get the speed up, and then do a real jump out of the turn. So this effort was just over 600w, not even as hard as my initial surge to follow Kevin.

Kevin follows.

From the cameraman's point of view it looks ideal here.

He's sitting 3rd wheel with about 20 seconds left in the race.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

Kevin tried to go with me. Later he told me he wished there was one more guy because if one guy stayed on my wheel he'd have been able to respond. The reality is that if someone had been on my wheel I think both of us would have lost. Because Kevin looked like he was just off my wheel everyone figured he'd effectively neutralize my move and no one moved around him to get on my wheel.

Out of the last turn.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

I wasn't totally committed when I exited the turn because I thought everyone was on my wheel. I did another half-hearted jump, this one about 700w, just to get the speed up to something reasonable. I expected everyone to be on my wheel and I was hoping to do a real jump, 1000-1200w, when I had to out jump whoever was on my wheel.

Kevin didn't jump but I did my big jump when I saw I had a small gap.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

The key here was that Kevin didn't make a huge jump out of the last turn. I looked back, saw I had a gap, and realized that I absolutely had to go RIGHT NOW.

So I did.

I did my max effort, which after the three efforts in a few hundred meters, meant a relatively weak 900+w jump. For me, though, it was full on and I hoped that this would make it harder for those closing in on me. In fact I actually stretched out the gap.

I'm actually panicking up there.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

Because I had only 20 or 30 feet when I did my 900w jump, and I knew that the jump was way below my normal jump (1200+w), I figured that there'd be a couple guys that were doing a normal sprinter 1200w jump and closing in on me hard.

I struggled, shifted into the 11T as I started running out of pedal revs, and did a final dying-gasp 500w jump. I thought the imaginary 1200w jumpers were closing in fast and were about to blow by me at the line.

I'm actually throwing my bike at the line.

Still from Douglas's YouTube clip of the race.

My bike throw.

Not great form but I was so redlined I didn't want to crash myself doing a big bike throw.

I should have thrown the bike more forward, gotten my butt back further off the saddle.

At the line I threw my bike, to beat those guys about to swarm me. I was so tunnel visioned I couldn't even look back. I was shocked when no one flew by me, even more so when I looked down and back after the line.

Bike throw, my view.

I'm looking to the left to see who is there.

Looking back to the right.

Where were those 1200w jumpers?

Obviously it worked out for me.

Worked out for my teammate Stan as well. Ends up that Mike had a really hard last lap, getting forced over the yellow line and then later onto the grass. Not only did he not get 5th or better, he sat up before the finish.

With him not placing, with no one else up there from the overall classification, Stan kept the Verge Sport Leader's Jersey. The 10 points I got for winning ended up putting me on the podium for 3rd overall behind Stan (with 15 points) and Mike with 12 points.

It was a great way to finish the Series. I rarely win races, like really rarely, and I basically never win alone (once I did), so to win on that day, in that way… it was good.

Weird, too, to be honest.

I didn't really feel like I won. There was no one around me, no desperate lunge to the line while watching another guy throwing his bike next to me. I didn't get this feeling of "ultimate jump" to launch my bid for victory. It was a series of staggers, sort of, stumbling my way to the finish, winning despite myself.

Only when I saw Douglas's YouTube clip did it start seeming real.

I still have to do some work on the races, get the final overall published, thank sponsors and such, but I needed to get this post up.

Yeah.

And a final note. As a consolation prize Mike got his Cat 2 upgrade based on his incredible results from the last five weeks. So everything worked out in the end.