The Criterium de Bethel. I had a somewhat basic plan that came down to the fact that I wasn't going to sprint - and I'd been steeling myself for this plan the whole week. During the race my number came off (Super 77 adhesive and slick wind vests don't mix) so technically I shouldn't have sprinted. Mentally I was all set not to sprint. But my plan didn't work out and I was there for the sprint...
I'll let the clip show the rest.
Incidentally, the last lap is the tightest crit riding I've caught on tape so far. The close action is what makes cycling so enthralling and I hope you get a feeling for what it's like.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Bethel Spring Series - Criterium de Bethel
You know that if I don't do a pre-race post, things are busy. And if I don't do a race post, it's even busier. I didn't even do a "day after the race" post.
Things were so busy that Sunday I decided to write off my season. Not the Series (that's already gone) but everything. The next time I line up with serious training and a competitive mindset will be in March 2008 and even that is a bit doubtful. What I do know is that 2007 will be for fun and involvement.
Yesterday I got to the race sans my other half - she's an accountant and it's tax season... 'nuff said. This meant that when I dropped the two muffins in the van I couldn't retrieve them till I got out of the van 30 minutes later. So I drank a lot of coffee instead.
Overall things went well. A blog reader who happens to race, helped sweep, helps marshal, and is generally enthusiastic about the sport asked me about trackstands and picking things up off the ground while riding. So I did a demonstration of both those techniques. I didn't video tape them so posting a clip will have to wait for a different day. Plus I wasn't in my race kit (I was in my "promoter kit", i.e. street clothes) so it's best that I tape it some other day.
The Target Training pro women's team showed up in force for marshaling duties in the morning. It's always nice to see elite level riders putting energy back into the sport, even if it's in such a relatively trivial way. No attitudes there and I think that's great for the sport. And the team owner even offered a whole lotta primes for the races - so many we couldn't organize things for that day. So there will be LOTS of cash primes on April 15th.
And it's good to see the riders who started out in the lower categories show up with their new team kits, pedaling smoother, riding in closer formation, and doing well in the harder races.
There were less pleasant aspects to the race. Over the last few weeks I heard, second hand, of some less than clean riding. After I posted a comment to this effect last week I got a couple concerned riders asking me if they were the guilty ones but no, it wasn't them. Those guys, and they know who they are, are good guys who have their competitive moments. Hey I have them too. They're good by me.
There are others who are still in a sort of an evaluation phase from where I'm standing. The only problem is that I haven't seen anything myself. And though I trust the reports I get, I won't act on them without confirming them personally.
When I do confirm something personally, I speak with the rider/s in question. Whether or not I know the rider, their actions reflect the attitudes of the race. And I don't want Bethel to be known as an overly aggressive place to race. Over the years I've had some interesting conversations with some of these racers and every single time, after all the discussions about who pushed who, who punched who, who blew their nose on who, whatever we talk about, it all boils down to one thing.
It's just a bike race.
A racer I respect pointed out that bike racing, for all intents and purposes, is like intramural softball. It's a big game. No one lives off their racing. Sure it's nice to win some gas money or a nice apres race meal. Or like the winner of one of the $50 primes last week, rent a power tool and work on your house. It's great to be enthusiastic about the sport but we all go to work on Monday.
This means we all do this for fun. At least I hope we do. No one gets anywhere with bike racing except the start line, the finish line on a normal day, and out for some training during the non-race days.
As a promoter I help the racers enjoy themselves. I'm supposed to be neutral towards everyone. I try very, very hard to be just that, even if sometimes I don't like what I have to do.
However, when the race starts, I am a racer. As such I am no longer neutral. If I'm not racing for myself, my teammates, or friends, I'll choose sides.
At the Criterium de Bethel I chose sides.
I decided I'd try and help some guys out who seem to genuinely embrace the sport. They are enthusiastic racers, they're nice when they're off the bike, they seem socially adjusted, and they even want to promote their own race!
Note: If you ever want to get on a promoter's good side, mention the race you promote. If the promoter is a good person, you're set.
So anyway I decided to try and help a couple of these racers. After all I wrote off my season. I figured I wouldn't even be around for the sprint. Ultimately they took things into their own hands so I didn't contribute to their effort at all.
That was unfortunate because I completely forgot about racing for myself. I was so intent on seeing what happened at the finish I did something very unusual.
I simply forgot to sprint.
The clip, still to be edited, makes this painfully clear. By the time my brain switched from spectator back to racer I was at the base of the hill, 150 meters to go, and people were starting to launch. I was completely unprepared for any hard effort and let the field stream around me. I tried to keep some semblance of speed so I wouldn't get rear ended but that was the extent of my sprint.
A little annoyed at myself I started the P/1/2/3 race. I felt some bursts of speed in the P/1/2/3 race, something I haven't felt in a while. Perhaps it was that I wasn't feeling sick for the first time in the Series. Whatever, promoting duties called and I didn't feel right racing around the course. So I made a few unusually hard efforts and called it a day. Before I stopped I thought, heck, I think I can do this. It's been a while since I've thought that.
Having packed up the van, I thought the tough part was done. Just the long, drawn out process of posting results and stuff. But the fates threw one more punch my way.
It came up on the drive home. In the rush to pack things, the gas cans ended up balanced on things like leafblower tires. Not a stable platform. And after two of them toppled and started leaking gas, I started getting a pretty bad headache. I didn't realize this - I figured a can was simply venting and drove with the window open. It got worse though. At the end of my drive I was almost hanging my head out the window like a dog (sans wagging tongue).
It didn't help. I was reeling when I climbed out of the van. I checked the cans and two had completely emptied - one being a somewhat full 5 gallon container, the other a half full 2.5 gallon container. I figure anywhere from two to five gallons of gas sloshed onto the floor. I opened a bunch of windows to vent the gas and hoped the drizzle would prevent an explosion when the guy who lives across the street goes out for a smoke.
All that "drive my econo car to work" and I vent 15 or 30 pounds of unburnt hydrocarbons into the air. Great.
I walked in the house feeling queasy, dizzy, and apparently reeking of gasoline. Breathing those unburnt hydrocarbons really worked me over. It took me a while to recover, but a shower, some new clothes, and some food got me going again.
Finally things went smoothly. I had the results posted by 7:15 PM. It helped that this was the fourth race of the Series - there are lots of the same guys placing again and again. As the guy typing up the results, I like the racers who place every week - less editing for me. It's best if they maintain their spot in the overall. It's great if they place in the same spot as the previous week (I use the previous week as a template).
The worst? It's when someone new places and he's on a team that hasn't placed previously. I have to type everything.
Team results are easier too, and I finally figured out (i.e. had the guts to try something) how to add the Women's team classification section.
So all in all, things are good. I am a bit disappointed to make the decision to drop my commitment to training but it's not like I'm losing much. I've been doing an hour or two a week on the trainer but Monday night I sacrificed my trainer spot so I'll rarely ride from here on in. The reason for all this non-cycling is the work being done to the house. It's very exciting and I'm looking forward to the results when it's all done.
I wish things were a bit less busy so I can ride a bit but this busy stuff is part of racing. Things come and go. Racers who were so into the sport are now gone. And the strong Cat 5's will be beating me in a a couple years. Or maybe this summer. So a little excitement at the Series is okay. Keeps me involved.
And when I lament the passing of a year of potential this or that, I think about all the other things I'm so thankful to have. And I remember.
It's just a bike race.
Things were so busy that Sunday I decided to write off my season. Not the Series (that's already gone) but everything. The next time I line up with serious training and a competitive mindset will be in March 2008 and even that is a bit doubtful. What I do know is that 2007 will be for fun and involvement.
Yesterday I got to the race sans my other half - she's an accountant and it's tax season... 'nuff said. This meant that when I dropped the two muffins in the van I couldn't retrieve them till I got out of the van 30 minutes later. So I drank a lot of coffee instead.
Overall things went well. A blog reader who happens to race, helped sweep, helps marshal, and is generally enthusiastic about the sport asked me about trackstands and picking things up off the ground while riding. So I did a demonstration of both those techniques. I didn't video tape them so posting a clip will have to wait for a different day. Plus I wasn't in my race kit (I was in my "promoter kit", i.e. street clothes) so it's best that I tape it some other day.
The Target Training pro women's team showed up in force for marshaling duties in the morning. It's always nice to see elite level riders putting energy back into the sport, even if it's in such a relatively trivial way. No attitudes there and I think that's great for the sport. And the team owner even offered a whole lotta primes for the races - so many we couldn't organize things for that day. So there will be LOTS of cash primes on April 15th.
And it's good to see the riders who started out in the lower categories show up with their new team kits, pedaling smoother, riding in closer formation, and doing well in the harder races.
There were less pleasant aspects to the race. Over the last few weeks I heard, second hand, of some less than clean riding. After I posted a comment to this effect last week I got a couple concerned riders asking me if they were the guilty ones but no, it wasn't them. Those guys, and they know who they are, are good guys who have their competitive moments. Hey I have them too. They're good by me.
There are others who are still in a sort of an evaluation phase from where I'm standing. The only problem is that I haven't seen anything myself. And though I trust the reports I get, I won't act on them without confirming them personally.
When I do confirm something personally, I speak with the rider/s in question. Whether or not I know the rider, their actions reflect the attitudes of the race. And I don't want Bethel to be known as an overly aggressive place to race. Over the years I've had some interesting conversations with some of these racers and every single time, after all the discussions about who pushed who, who punched who, who blew their nose on who, whatever we talk about, it all boils down to one thing.
It's just a bike race.
A racer I respect pointed out that bike racing, for all intents and purposes, is like intramural softball. It's a big game. No one lives off their racing. Sure it's nice to win some gas money or a nice apres race meal. Or like the winner of one of the $50 primes last week, rent a power tool and work on your house. It's great to be enthusiastic about the sport but we all go to work on Monday.
This means we all do this for fun. At least I hope we do. No one gets anywhere with bike racing except the start line, the finish line on a normal day, and out for some training during the non-race days.
As a promoter I help the racers enjoy themselves. I'm supposed to be neutral towards everyone. I try very, very hard to be just that, even if sometimes I don't like what I have to do.
However, when the race starts, I am a racer. As such I am no longer neutral. If I'm not racing for myself, my teammates, or friends, I'll choose sides.
At the Criterium de Bethel I chose sides.
I decided I'd try and help some guys out who seem to genuinely embrace the sport. They are enthusiastic racers, they're nice when they're off the bike, they seem socially adjusted, and they even want to promote their own race!
Note: If you ever want to get on a promoter's good side, mention the race you promote. If the promoter is a good person, you're set.
So anyway I decided to try and help a couple of these racers. After all I wrote off my season. I figured I wouldn't even be around for the sprint. Ultimately they took things into their own hands so I didn't contribute to their effort at all.
That was unfortunate because I completely forgot about racing for myself. I was so intent on seeing what happened at the finish I did something very unusual.
I simply forgot to sprint.
The clip, still to be edited, makes this painfully clear. By the time my brain switched from spectator back to racer I was at the base of the hill, 150 meters to go, and people were starting to launch. I was completely unprepared for any hard effort and let the field stream around me. I tried to keep some semblance of speed so I wouldn't get rear ended but that was the extent of my sprint.
A little annoyed at myself I started the P/1/2/3 race. I felt some bursts of speed in the P/1/2/3 race, something I haven't felt in a while. Perhaps it was that I wasn't feeling sick for the first time in the Series. Whatever, promoting duties called and I didn't feel right racing around the course. So I made a few unusually hard efforts and called it a day. Before I stopped I thought, heck, I think I can do this. It's been a while since I've thought that.
Having packed up the van, I thought the tough part was done. Just the long, drawn out process of posting results and stuff. But the fates threw one more punch my way.
It came up on the drive home. In the rush to pack things, the gas cans ended up balanced on things like leafblower tires. Not a stable platform. And after two of them toppled and started leaking gas, I started getting a pretty bad headache. I didn't realize this - I figured a can was simply venting and drove with the window open. It got worse though. At the end of my drive I was almost hanging my head out the window like a dog (sans wagging tongue).
It didn't help. I was reeling when I climbed out of the van. I checked the cans and two had completely emptied - one being a somewhat full 5 gallon container, the other a half full 2.5 gallon container. I figure anywhere from two to five gallons of gas sloshed onto the floor. I opened a bunch of windows to vent the gas and hoped the drizzle would prevent an explosion when the guy who lives across the street goes out for a smoke.
All that "drive my econo car to work" and I vent 15 or 30 pounds of unburnt hydrocarbons into the air. Great.
I walked in the house feeling queasy, dizzy, and apparently reeking of gasoline. Breathing those unburnt hydrocarbons really worked me over. It took me a while to recover, but a shower, some new clothes, and some food got me going again.
Finally things went smoothly. I had the results posted by 7:15 PM. It helped that this was the fourth race of the Series - there are lots of the same guys placing again and again. As the guy typing up the results, I like the racers who place every week - less editing for me. It's best if they maintain their spot in the overall. It's great if they place in the same spot as the previous week (I use the previous week as a template).
The worst? It's when someone new places and he's on a team that hasn't placed previously. I have to type everything.
Team results are easier too, and I finally figured out (i.e. had the guts to try something) how to add the Women's team classification section.
So all in all, things are good. I am a bit disappointed to make the decision to drop my commitment to training but it's not like I'm losing much. I've been doing an hour or two a week on the trainer but Monday night I sacrificed my trainer spot so I'll rarely ride from here on in. The reason for all this non-cycling is the work being done to the house. It's very exciting and I'm looking forward to the results when it's all done.
I wish things were a bit less busy so I can ride a bit but this busy stuff is part of racing. Things come and go. Racers who were so into the sport are now gone. And the strong Cat 5's will be beating me in a a couple years. Or maybe this summer. So a little excitement at the Series is okay. Keeps me involved.
And when I lament the passing of a year of potential this or that, I think about all the other things I'm so thankful to have. And I remember.
It's just a bike race.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
A short break in frequent posting
I don't know how other people blog but I have a few types of entries:
1. Current stuff, i.e. things that happened today. Like an entry on a race I promoted today. These sort of things expire - the content is dated and after a week or three, usually people ignore these thing.
2. The long term stuff, i.e. things that are timeless. These include things like How-To's, philosophy of racing, things like that.
3. Mixed stuff, i.e. things that pertain to some current situation but are linked to timeless topics. This might be something like how to approach doping (a timeless idea) in the current ruleset (a dated idea).
I write the first type on the fly but the other two types are usually a combination of things I've written - emails, tactics/technique stuff, and some stories or experiences I have floating around in my head. They sit as drafts for a while before I finalize them and post them.
What I'm trying to say is that I have a few How-To's and editorial type things sitting in my queue. I have no current topics in that queue, like a post on, say, today's race.
Anyway, the reason I'm mentioning this is that my schedule is such that I'll be shutting down my personal computers for a short time starting as soon as I post this short note. My house has to be emptied by Tuesday night so the floors can be done and it's looking pretty full right now.
This means current posts may be a bit lacking in the near future. The timeless topics I've staged won't go away although I'll have to work on them before I post them. In order to keep an entry or two in reserve, I won't be posting a flurry of "How-To's".
I promise a report on today's Criterium De Bethel but it won't be for at least a day or two. I guess it'll depend on how busy work is :)
Once the floors get refinished and the new carpet is installed, the house goes on the market. I thought I was going to live here forever and fixed up the kitchen, bathroom, roof, furnace, electrical, windows, siding, paint, pretty much everything. But now I have to move for my other half's work (mine can be done from anywhere).
So if you're in the market for a 3 BR, 1 BA house in Norwalk, CT for the discounted price of about $420k, you know where I am. Mention the blog and I'll give you a, um, $10,000 rebate. If you have good credit and things go smoothly I'll pitch in a bit more. Maybe enough for one of the fancy Parlee bikes I saw today with the LightWeight wheels.
And if anyone is near Stew Leonards in Norwalk and wants to haul around boxes and things in the next two evenings, let me know. We can use all the help we can get.
1. Current stuff, i.e. things that happened today. Like an entry on a race I promoted today. These sort of things expire - the content is dated and after a week or three, usually people ignore these thing.
2. The long term stuff, i.e. things that are timeless. These include things like How-To's, philosophy of racing, things like that.
3. Mixed stuff, i.e. things that pertain to some current situation but are linked to timeless topics. This might be something like how to approach doping (a timeless idea) in the current ruleset (a dated idea).
I write the first type on the fly but the other two types are usually a combination of things I've written - emails, tactics/technique stuff, and some stories or experiences I have floating around in my head. They sit as drafts for a while before I finalize them and post them.
What I'm trying to say is that I have a few How-To's and editorial type things sitting in my queue. I have no current topics in that queue, like a post on, say, today's race.
Anyway, the reason I'm mentioning this is that my schedule is such that I'll be shutting down my personal computers for a short time starting as soon as I post this short note. My house has to be emptied by Tuesday night so the floors can be done and it's looking pretty full right now.
This means current posts may be a bit lacking in the near future. The timeless topics I've staged won't go away although I'll have to work on them before I post them. In order to keep an entry or two in reserve, I won't be posting a flurry of "How-To's".
I promise a report on today's Criterium De Bethel but it won't be for at least a day or two. I guess it'll depend on how busy work is :)
Once the floors get refinished and the new carpet is installed, the house goes on the market. I thought I was going to live here forever and fixed up the kitchen, bathroom, roof, furnace, electrical, windows, siding, paint, pretty much everything. But now I have to move for my other half's work (mine can be done from anywhere).
So if you're in the market for a 3 BR, 1 BA house in Norwalk, CT for the discounted price of about $420k, you know where I am. Mention the blog and I'll give you a, um, $10,000 rebate. If you have good credit and things go smoothly I'll pitch in a bit more. Maybe enough for one of the fancy Parlee bikes I saw today with the LightWeight wheels.
And if anyone is near Stew Leonards in Norwalk and wants to haul around boxes and things in the next two evenings, let me know. We can use all the help we can get.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Your hoods are jacked! Or why I hate "ergo" bars
With props to Rob M for the name of the topic.
I was on a ride in California and saw a rider with what I call a "classic" bar and lever position. The bottom end of the drops pointed back at some point around the rear brake or just above it and the lever bodies were just above pointing straight forward. Essentially a low position overall.
I mention this because I also saw a lot of riders with hoods way up the drops, almost high enough to start moving in to the tops of the bar. I call this the jacked lever position after Mr Rob used the term in a funny email. I've seen other bits on why they think bars and lever started pointing up so much and I'll chip in with my two cents.
It first started with the abominable "ergo" handlebars, those with the flat section on the drops. No one really had a great idea on where this flat section should be or at what angle. For example 3ttt had some models where the ergo section was almost vertical and others where it was just above horizontal. And this was in the same year!
The problem is as follows - rider hand position requirements on the drops changes depending on the rider's current situation. For example if you are just cruising along on the drops, don't need a lot of leverage, and are simply guiding the bike with a light touch to the bars, you'll need a relatively horizontal section of bar. The flats of the "old" style rounded bars works, or, if using "ergo" bars, a more horizontal ergo section works.
However, if in the middle of your cruising along someone jumps past you and you want to react, your needs change dramatically. Instead of a light touch on the bars, you want a firm base from where you can pull and push to counter aggressive leg movements. You want to hold the drops further up so that your forearms are more level - this prevents them from your forearms from hitting the tops of the bars too hard. And you'll probably want access to your shift/brake levers so you can shift up as you accelerate. This means you'll need to choke the drops. A more vertical "ergo" section satisfies this need.
But there are no ergo bars which satisfy BOTH drop type positions. This is because combining the two ergo sections would result in a, err, rounded bar. What you might know as a non-ergo bar.
Hm.
Incidentally bar manufacturers are now coming out with "super-ergo" bars. What makes them interesting is that they no longer have highly defined ergo positions. They're simply rounded bars.
Ergo bars helped contribute to the jacked lever syndrome. Once the ergo bars came around it was virtually impossible to shift from the drops. Well, you could, it's just that you couldn't do it easily while, say, sprinting. At the same time there was this movement towards radically low bars. Case in point: Michele Bartoli. If you copied his radical seat-to-bar drop position, you'd end up riding on the hoods a lot, have a backache, or both.
If you rode mainly on the hoods, well, jacked levers are more comfortable. And since you couldn't shift while sprinting, unless you had some odd looking vertical ergo bars, being able to reach the shifters from the drops suddenly dropped in priority. So levers went higher and higher.
Check out Lance for example. His bike is the epitome of jacked lever syndrome. Why do pros use ergo bars with jacked levers? Shouldn't us mortals be satisfied with what the pros use?
No.
Pros have simpler needs than us normal riders. They are either going a very steady easy or a very steady hard. They rarely launch vicious attacks with lots of shifting and stuff - that's for us amateurs who can't make efforts longer than anything measured in seconds or minutes. Their attacks are more of a "ride the legs off the other guy" kind of thing. And for that type of hard riding, the light touch position works. You hunker down into a position that you know you can hold for 20k and try and rip the teeth off your 12T.
My attacks are something like, "Oh, well, I was on the right side of the field, I figured I should go, and I popped it in the 14 and went super hard. Then I dropped it into the 13 and then the 12. Man I was flying. I looked and saw I had a gap. Then I tried to recover a bit but by the backstretch I was toast. I had to go back to the 14 and the field caught me."
And that kind of attack takes place over, say, 60 seconds.
Roy Knickman, racing for La Vie Claire, once took the leader's jersey in the Tour de L'Avenir. He told the interviewer he decided to attack on a long, flat, crosswind section of road. His attack was pretty straightforward. He simply went to the front of the field and rode really hard in the gutter for 20 km. The gutter because the crosswind meant that to draft him you'd have to be next to him and if he was in the gutter, you couldn't draft him. The whole field strung out as they cursed him and rode in the gutter after him. After 20 km, he looked back to see who was back there.
One severely suffering guy.
Knickman told him to pull. The guy probably looked at him like, "What are you insane? I've been groveling in the gutter for 20 k while you've been pounding beef." Whatever, the answer was negative. So Knickman said to him "Oh yeah? I'm a BAMF and I'm going to grind your legs to a pulp", put it in the 12T, and rode in the gutter for another 20 km. Okay he didn't say that but he did ride that. After going really hard for another 20 kms, meaning he's been hammering for something like an hour (think of how long it takes you to ride 40 km or 25 miles), he looked back at the guy and said, "If you don't pull, I'll do that again, drop you, and you'll get your sorry ass fired for not being able to stay on my wheel while not taking a pull for an hour."
Okay he didn't say that either. But the other guy started to pull.
Knickman moved over to let the guy get some shelter, they gained over 9 minutes, then Knickman turned off the power. The field thought the two had blown. The bunch eased off, cruised a bit, did the math, and figured out when they should start chasing. On cue, they put the collective hammer down and started what they thought would be a nicely timed pounce to scoop up the break with a few kilometers to go.
That's when Knickman turned the gas back on. The pounce was all air as Knickman pounded just as hard as all the teams in the field combined. The two ended the day about 8 minutes ahead of the field. Knickman took the lead by five minutes.
From what I could tell Knickman, it seems, rarely needed to shift that day. He didn't have jacked hoods (he's old school) but if he had three speed bars it wouldn't have mattered. The point is that he didn't need super quick access to the shifters.
If you were on his wheel, what good would it do if you could shift really quickly? Nada. You'd be as toasted as everyone else in the field as you flail through your gears really fast. Toast doesn't make pros go fast and everyone, even the eventual winner, was left behind.
The winner's name? A young, upcoming Spanish rider named Miguel Indurain.
Unfortunately Knickman got sick and dropped out about a week after his heroic ride.
Anyway, I think I've illustrated my point. Pros are really, really strong. They don't need no stinkin' fast shifts. They just hammer.
And the really big pros, the ones that do the Tour and stuff, the ones in the magazines, well, they climb a lot. And I mean a LOT. For me, 150 meters is a climb. I shift. I prepare. I psych myself up. And I hit it. And at the top I think, "Phew, I made it, wow that was a hard 8 pedal strokes."
Pros don't even notice 150 meter climbs. They don't call it a climb till it takes 5 or 10 minutes to finish. And those are the short ones. It's the 30 or 45 minute climbs which determine, say, the Tour. So for riders targeting those days, it's important to optimize the bike for climbing for what would seem like forever, not for something inane like jumps or sprinting.
There's no questioning that if you're climbing for a while, jacked hoods are more comfy. Your wrist bends a bit less. You feel like you're a bit taller on the bike. And there's a secure feeling when you grasp the hoods, stand up, and lean forward. Hence the jacked hoods in the pro peloton.
But that's not the real world. That's the pro's world.
I don't race 150 miles in the mountains, up 10 or 15 mile climbs. Neither does anyone I race against. In fact, I think I'd be hard pressed to find anyone who was not a pro that raced a 150 mile road race with 10 or 15 mile climbs.
Like everyone in the real world, I do dinky crits which pros wouldn't even consider a warm up. The pace varies wildly - sometimes we're going 18 mph, other times I'm hanging on at 35 mph. Guys blow up, they sit up, and we slow. Or someone attacks, everyone else swears, and we go bananas for a lap or so, shifting furiously into our bigger gears, the field stringing out, everyone frantically looking for shelter.
In races like those you're shifting all the time. And you're virtually always in the drops, since that's where you should be when you're making efforts, cornering hard, riding in super close quarters, etc.
And, if you have jacked hoods, you won't be able to shift when you're on the drops.
Problem.
Simple solution: lower your levers a bit and enjoy the chaos in the working class races.
Leave the jacked hoods to those climbing gods.
I was on a ride in California and saw a rider with what I call a "classic" bar and lever position. The bottom end of the drops pointed back at some point around the rear brake or just above it and the lever bodies were just above pointing straight forward. Essentially a low position overall.
I mention this because I also saw a lot of riders with hoods way up the drops, almost high enough to start moving in to the tops of the bar. I call this the jacked lever position after Mr Rob used the term in a funny email. I've seen other bits on why they think bars and lever started pointing up so much and I'll chip in with my two cents.
It first started with the abominable "ergo" handlebars, those with the flat section on the drops. No one really had a great idea on where this flat section should be or at what angle. For example 3ttt had some models where the ergo section was almost vertical and others where it was just above horizontal. And this was in the same year!
The problem is as follows - rider hand position requirements on the drops changes depending on the rider's current situation. For example if you are just cruising along on the drops, don't need a lot of leverage, and are simply guiding the bike with a light touch to the bars, you'll need a relatively horizontal section of bar. The flats of the "old" style rounded bars works, or, if using "ergo" bars, a more horizontal ergo section works.
However, if in the middle of your cruising along someone jumps past you and you want to react, your needs change dramatically. Instead of a light touch on the bars, you want a firm base from where you can pull and push to counter aggressive leg movements. You want to hold the drops further up so that your forearms are more level - this prevents them from your forearms from hitting the tops of the bars too hard. And you'll probably want access to your shift/brake levers so you can shift up as you accelerate. This means you'll need to choke the drops. A more vertical "ergo" section satisfies this need.
But there are no ergo bars which satisfy BOTH drop type positions. This is because combining the two ergo sections would result in a, err, rounded bar. What you might know as a non-ergo bar.
Hm.
Incidentally bar manufacturers are now coming out with "super-ergo" bars. What makes them interesting is that they no longer have highly defined ergo positions. They're simply rounded bars.
Ergo bars helped contribute to the jacked lever syndrome. Once the ergo bars came around it was virtually impossible to shift from the drops. Well, you could, it's just that you couldn't do it easily while, say, sprinting. At the same time there was this movement towards radically low bars. Case in point: Michele Bartoli. If you copied his radical seat-to-bar drop position, you'd end up riding on the hoods a lot, have a backache, or both.
If you rode mainly on the hoods, well, jacked levers are more comfortable. And since you couldn't shift while sprinting, unless you had some odd looking vertical ergo bars, being able to reach the shifters from the drops suddenly dropped in priority. So levers went higher and higher.
Check out Lance for example. His bike is the epitome of jacked lever syndrome. Why do pros use ergo bars with jacked levers? Shouldn't us mortals be satisfied with what the pros use?
No.
Pros have simpler needs than us normal riders. They are either going a very steady easy or a very steady hard. They rarely launch vicious attacks with lots of shifting and stuff - that's for us amateurs who can't make efforts longer than anything measured in seconds or minutes. Their attacks are more of a "ride the legs off the other guy" kind of thing. And for that type of hard riding, the light touch position works. You hunker down into a position that you know you can hold for 20k and try and rip the teeth off your 12T.
My attacks are something like, "Oh, well, I was on the right side of the field, I figured I should go, and I popped it in the 14 and went super hard. Then I dropped it into the 13 and then the 12. Man I was flying. I looked and saw I had a gap. Then I tried to recover a bit but by the backstretch I was toast. I had to go back to the 14 and the field caught me."
And that kind of attack takes place over, say, 60 seconds.
Roy Knickman, racing for La Vie Claire, once took the leader's jersey in the Tour de L'Avenir. He told the interviewer he decided to attack on a long, flat, crosswind section of road. His attack was pretty straightforward. He simply went to the front of the field and rode really hard in the gutter for 20 km. The gutter because the crosswind meant that to draft him you'd have to be next to him and if he was in the gutter, you couldn't draft him. The whole field strung out as they cursed him and rode in the gutter after him. After 20 km, he looked back to see who was back there.
One severely suffering guy.
Knickman told him to pull. The guy probably looked at him like, "What are you insane? I've been groveling in the gutter for 20 k while you've been pounding beef." Whatever, the answer was negative. So Knickman said to him "Oh yeah? I'm a BAMF and I'm going to grind your legs to a pulp", put it in the 12T, and rode in the gutter for another 20 km. Okay he didn't say that but he did ride that. After going really hard for another 20 kms, meaning he's been hammering for something like an hour (think of how long it takes you to ride 40 km or 25 miles), he looked back at the guy and said, "If you don't pull, I'll do that again, drop you, and you'll get your sorry ass fired for not being able to stay on my wheel while not taking a pull for an hour."
Okay he didn't say that either. But the other guy started to pull.
Knickman moved over to let the guy get some shelter, they gained over 9 minutes, then Knickman turned off the power. The field thought the two had blown. The bunch eased off, cruised a bit, did the math, and figured out when they should start chasing. On cue, they put the collective hammer down and started what they thought would be a nicely timed pounce to scoop up the break with a few kilometers to go.
That's when Knickman turned the gas back on. The pounce was all air as Knickman pounded just as hard as all the teams in the field combined. The two ended the day about 8 minutes ahead of the field. Knickman took the lead by five minutes.
From what I could tell Knickman, it seems, rarely needed to shift that day. He didn't have jacked hoods (he's old school) but if he had three speed bars it wouldn't have mattered. The point is that he didn't need super quick access to the shifters.
If you were on his wheel, what good would it do if you could shift really quickly? Nada. You'd be as toasted as everyone else in the field as you flail through your gears really fast. Toast doesn't make pros go fast and everyone, even the eventual winner, was left behind.
The winner's name? A young, upcoming Spanish rider named Miguel Indurain.
Unfortunately Knickman got sick and dropped out about a week after his heroic ride.
Anyway, I think I've illustrated my point. Pros are really, really strong. They don't need no stinkin' fast shifts. They just hammer.
And the really big pros, the ones that do the Tour and stuff, the ones in the magazines, well, they climb a lot. And I mean a LOT. For me, 150 meters is a climb. I shift. I prepare. I psych myself up. And I hit it. And at the top I think, "Phew, I made it, wow that was a hard 8 pedal strokes."
Pros don't even notice 150 meter climbs. They don't call it a climb till it takes 5 or 10 minutes to finish. And those are the short ones. It's the 30 or 45 minute climbs which determine, say, the Tour. So for riders targeting those days, it's important to optimize the bike for climbing for what would seem like forever, not for something inane like jumps or sprinting.
There's no questioning that if you're climbing for a while, jacked hoods are more comfy. Your wrist bends a bit less. You feel like you're a bit taller on the bike. And there's a secure feeling when you grasp the hoods, stand up, and lean forward. Hence the jacked hoods in the pro peloton.
But that's not the real world. That's the pro's world.
I don't race 150 miles in the mountains, up 10 or 15 mile climbs. Neither does anyone I race against. In fact, I think I'd be hard pressed to find anyone who was not a pro that raced a 150 mile road race with 10 or 15 mile climbs.
Like everyone in the real world, I do dinky crits which pros wouldn't even consider a warm up. The pace varies wildly - sometimes we're going 18 mph, other times I'm hanging on at 35 mph. Guys blow up, they sit up, and we slow. Or someone attacks, everyone else swears, and we go bananas for a lap or so, shifting furiously into our bigger gears, the field stringing out, everyone frantically looking for shelter.
In races like those you're shifting all the time. And you're virtually always in the drops, since that's where you should be when you're making efforts, cornering hard, riding in super close quarters, etc.
And, if you have jacked hoods, you won't be able to shift when you're on the drops.
Problem.
Simple solution: lower your levers a bit and enjoy the chaos in the working class races.
Leave the jacked hoods to those climbing gods.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Bethel Spring Series - Bethel CDP Gold Race - helmet cam
A clip of a race where I don't sprint. This is the downside of having the sprint be your strength.
btw if anyone has music I can use (you own the copyright) please let me know. My two brothers have a limited repetoire of songs!
btw if anyone has music I can use (you own the copyright) please let me know. My two brothers have a limited repetoire of songs!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Bethel Spring Series - Being a promoter
So I looked up "swollen neck glands" on Google and ended up on this page.
First of the 48 causes of swollen neck glands - bubonic plague.
I can't get away from that diagnosis.
But my throat feels a bit different this time - a sharp pain. A so-familiar pain. A pain I haven't felt in many years. Strep throat pain. If it gets any worse today I'll go to a doctor tomorrow.
I'm using this groggy sick feeling as an excuse why I spaced last night and didn't post the Cat 5 results. Actually I did post the results. I just posted the prior race's Cat 5 results, since I used that prior race's page as a template for the new one. And I didn't update the overall either.
Anyway my email got flooded with friendly and not as friendly notes pointing this out. So I did it right tonight. I also somehow missed a bunch of places from the 5's for the overall, so put them in as well.
I could have used the whole "well I just promoted the race" excuse but that doesn't fly after however long I've been doing it. It would be easy to point out that I got up at some ungodly hour, spent the day marching around with a broom or a blower, raced, packed up, got home at 7 or so, and then worked on the results and stuff.
But it's not really accurate. I know how to pace myself during the day. All the help we get from the volunteer marshals, volunteer sweepers, and people helping set up or break down helps me with this energy rationing.
At the end of the day (or end of the evening if you will), if I don't feel up to updating the site, I leave it blank and let it rest for a bit. It's like racing and training. I don't push too hard else something will push back. Maybe it's why I'm still racing now and everyone I started with isn't. It's probably why I am still promoting the Series something-teen years after I started. I almost walked away from it for a number of years, I was so tired of running the races.
Obviously I didn't. I felt an obligation to continue though and there are a number of reasons for this obligation.
1. I don't need to make money off the Series, so I don't. This is good for the race. One rule we have is that people who run the race should not make money off of it. Keeps the reason for running the race clear - not for money but for the racers. The whole reason the original promoters started the Series was to have an inexpensive race series that paid out money (and "real" money at that) to the racers. My unsubstantiated feeling is that if I and whoever I work with (it's varied over the years) leave the race, a new promoter might pocket a lot of the money we typically intend for the racers. This fear for the racers motivates me to keep doing the race.
2. There's definitely sweat equity in this thing. Before we could afford two big wheeled leaf blowers, we had one. And before that, we had two portable leaf blowers. And before that, one portable. And in the very beginning, we had brooms. The further you go back, the more work I had to do. And when we had brooms, guess what?
I swept. A lot. I mean a lot.
When I went to see Stomp, they opened with, would you believe, a sequence involving brooms. I turned to whoever I was with and said "Hey, it's just like Bethel!". Except they used inefficient strokes. I know because after a few hundred hours of sweeping the course at Bethel, I learned the most efficient way to move sand off a road.
The way they did it, I couldn't believe they made it to the end of their bit without blisters and cramping arms.
3. I like the course. Personally, I couldn't ask for a better course with better conditions. Meaning for me as a racer. First, whoever paved the road knew what they were doing and took pride in it. Virtually no cracks in something like 15 or 20 years. No potholes. In Connecticut with its frost heave and ice and snow and all that? Incredible.
The profile works for me too. A power hill that is too short for climbers. Wind that saps the strength out of all but the hardiest of time trialers. And a lot of room for slicing and dicing in the field. It's fun, I like it, and I can always think about trying to win or place here. Usually anyway.
4. Another thing is it feels good to give stuff to people. You should see their eyes light up when we give them primes or prizes or trophies. Some of that stuff pays for gas or whatnot, but trophies and leaders jerseys last forever. I know I treasure the ones I've won, and it puts an element of reality to the racing for those that don't race or watch. Instead of coming home with a bunch of sweaty laundry, you have a trophy to show for your efforts. How cool is that?
Of course cash is good too. Last week a guy and his teammate walked over to pick up a prime. The guy won the prime but hadn't paid very much attention to the amount. Figure early season race, Cat 3-4's, $10 would be normal, $20 would be nice, anything more would be a bonus. It was a two place prime so figure each would get watered down a bit.
When we told him it was $50 he couldn't believe it. He seemed like he was about to give the money back because he held his hand out so long after we put the money in it. He studied the money suspiciously, asked us if we were sure, and looked at the money again. We reassured him we weren't mistaken. He cracked a big grin, withdrew his hand, thanked us for a great race, and walked away with his prize money.
5. Finally there's the whole thing about setting out to do something and accomplishing it. As an underachieving student that barely made it out of college, it really amounts to something when I help run a six week series of races that draws racers from all over the Northeast. Inevitably the racers are nice and appreciative, even if at some points they don't act that way. This counts a lot because if the racers didn't appreciate it, the race would be over so quick it'd make your head spin. Remember, this race is for the racer.
On the last day, when we're cleaning up for the last time, when we do the last lap around the course to pick up stray bottles and GU wrappers, I'm flooded with a feeling of intense accomplishment and satisfaction.
Must be like women having babies or something.
The baby makes you forget about all the pain of pregnancy.
First of the 48 causes of swollen neck glands - bubonic plague.
I can't get away from that diagnosis.
But my throat feels a bit different this time - a sharp pain. A so-familiar pain. A pain I haven't felt in many years. Strep throat pain. If it gets any worse today I'll go to a doctor tomorrow.
I'm using this groggy sick feeling as an excuse why I spaced last night and didn't post the Cat 5 results. Actually I did post the results. I just posted the prior race's Cat 5 results, since I used that prior race's page as a template for the new one. And I didn't update the overall either.
Anyway my email got flooded with friendly and not as friendly notes pointing this out. So I did it right tonight. I also somehow missed a bunch of places from the 5's for the overall, so put them in as well.
I could have used the whole "well I just promoted the race" excuse but that doesn't fly after however long I've been doing it. It would be easy to point out that I got up at some ungodly hour, spent the day marching around with a broom or a blower, raced, packed up, got home at 7 or so, and then worked on the results and stuff.
But it's not really accurate. I know how to pace myself during the day. All the help we get from the volunteer marshals, volunteer sweepers, and people helping set up or break down helps me with this energy rationing.
At the end of the day (or end of the evening if you will), if I don't feel up to updating the site, I leave it blank and let it rest for a bit. It's like racing and training. I don't push too hard else something will push back. Maybe it's why I'm still racing now and everyone I started with isn't. It's probably why I am still promoting the Series something-teen years after I started. I almost walked away from it for a number of years, I was so tired of running the races.
Obviously I didn't. I felt an obligation to continue though and there are a number of reasons for this obligation.
1. I don't need to make money off the Series, so I don't. This is good for the race. One rule we have is that people who run the race should not make money off of it. Keeps the reason for running the race clear - not for money but for the racers. The whole reason the original promoters started the Series was to have an inexpensive race series that paid out money (and "real" money at that) to the racers. My unsubstantiated feeling is that if I and whoever I work with (it's varied over the years) leave the race, a new promoter might pocket a lot of the money we typically intend for the racers. This fear for the racers motivates me to keep doing the race.
2. There's definitely sweat equity in this thing. Before we could afford two big wheeled leaf blowers, we had one. And before that, we had two portable leaf blowers. And before that, one portable. And in the very beginning, we had brooms. The further you go back, the more work I had to do. And when we had brooms, guess what?
I swept. A lot. I mean a lot.
When I went to see Stomp, they opened with, would you believe, a sequence involving brooms. I turned to whoever I was with and said "Hey, it's just like Bethel!". Except they used inefficient strokes. I know because after a few hundred hours of sweeping the course at Bethel, I learned the most efficient way to move sand off a road.
The way they did it, I couldn't believe they made it to the end of their bit without blisters and cramping arms.
3. I like the course. Personally, I couldn't ask for a better course with better conditions. Meaning for me as a racer. First, whoever paved the road knew what they were doing and took pride in it. Virtually no cracks in something like 15 or 20 years. No potholes. In Connecticut with its frost heave and ice and snow and all that? Incredible.
The profile works for me too. A power hill that is too short for climbers. Wind that saps the strength out of all but the hardiest of time trialers. And a lot of room for slicing and dicing in the field. It's fun, I like it, and I can always think about trying to win or place here. Usually anyway.
4. Another thing is it feels good to give stuff to people. You should see their eyes light up when we give them primes or prizes or trophies. Some of that stuff pays for gas or whatnot, but trophies and leaders jerseys last forever. I know I treasure the ones I've won, and it puts an element of reality to the racing for those that don't race or watch. Instead of coming home with a bunch of sweaty laundry, you have a trophy to show for your efforts. How cool is that?
Of course cash is good too. Last week a guy and his teammate walked over to pick up a prime. The guy won the prime but hadn't paid very much attention to the amount. Figure early season race, Cat 3-4's, $10 would be normal, $20 would be nice, anything more would be a bonus. It was a two place prime so figure each would get watered down a bit.
When we told him it was $50 he couldn't believe it. He seemed like he was about to give the money back because he held his hand out so long after we put the money in it. He studied the money suspiciously, asked us if we were sure, and looked at the money again. We reassured him we weren't mistaken. He cracked a big grin, withdrew his hand, thanked us for a great race, and walked away with his prize money.
5. Finally there's the whole thing about setting out to do something and accomplishing it. As an underachieving student that barely made it out of college, it really amounts to something when I help run a six week series of races that draws racers from all over the Northeast. Inevitably the racers are nice and appreciative, even if at some points they don't act that way. This counts a lot because if the racers didn't appreciate it, the race would be over so quick it'd make your head spin. Remember, this race is for the racer.
On the last day, when we're cleaning up for the last time, when we do the last lap around the course to pick up stray bottles and GU wrappers, I'm flooded with a feeling of intense accomplishment and satisfaction.
Must be like women having babies or something.
The baby makes you forget about all the pain of pregnancy.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Bethel Spring Series - Bethel CDP Gold Race
Well now.
It seems I only know how to write about bad races (from a racer's point of view). And here's another one.
Just as a counter point, the race from a promoter's point of view was pretty successful. The races went off pretty smoothly. The course wasn't icy. And we had some big fields. One crash marred the official paperwork and some very, very squirrelly and aggressive riding marred the unofficial rating of the race. I've heard reasonable complaints of chopping wheels and stuff before (meaning one guy complained and it didn't happen or it was misinterpreted) but today I heard enough, to, well, I can't do anything about it. Not officially. But when the officials also reported the same things, then it worried me. I don't want Bethel to be a wheel-chopping, elbow throwing, hip-checking kind of bike race series. At Bethel I want people to ride people off others' wheels so discretely they don't realize what happened till they're in the wind. And I want sprints to be won because someone outsprinted someone, not because they slammed the guy against the curb and then took off. I have to think about how to bring this about.
Back to the racer's perspective.
The day actually started out yesterday when I spent about six hours on my back installing a new exhaust system on my daily driver, a Honda Civic. Yes, it's one of those exhausts, but I couldn't resist upgrading. And yes I consider it an upgrade - it's stainless and won't rust through in three spots like my old exhaust.
You know how when you want a new wheelset it's nicer than the one it's replacing? Well I feel that way about car parts. If something wears out, I'll put something a little nicer on if it costs about the same as the replacement part. It did so I did.
Anyway, try laying on the pavement outside for about six hours. Okay, I'll give you this - you can get up, go hunt for a tool or anti-seize or get the impact wrench, but whatever you do, you have to lay back down for a few minutes at a time. Ideally you should be inhaling little specks of rust, jam your hand in weird positions, and do lots of crunches to peer up into the bottom of your car.
Then, when you're totally chilled to the bone, do it for a couple hours more.
The result? You wake up the next day with a sore throat, swollen glands, and a general feeling of malaise.
Hey, at least I got a shiny exhaust out of the whole deal.
So we got to the course this morning and it looked like one of those New England beaches - sand all over the place. And not normal sand like, say, on a postcard picture. It's New England sand. Rocks. Pebbles. They make walls out of this stuff. And it was all over the road.
We swept, blew, shoveled, and the whole time wondering what we need to do to get a weather-course break. Then when we thought we were done, the wet sand dried out. And we went out there and did it again.
Add breathing sand and a couple hours of hard labor to sore throat, swollen glands, and general malaise and you have a winning receipt for not winning races, field sprints, or a jog to the registration desk.
Between the two long rounds of course maintenance, I was checking out some of the bikes by the registration table. I'm still on the "My Giant is mushy" train of thought. Thankfully one guy said that they weren't mushy at all, but he might be trying to psyc me out.
Ok, I'm not serious about that, but it is one of those things you say to a racer, you know, the sort of thing you say when they doubt themselves and you're trying to be nice. Example:
"I think I need to lose weight. You think I need to lose weight?"
"No, you're fine. Damn you can sprint well."
"Hm thanks. Maybe I'll be okay with my weight for now."
"Definitely."
See? Sounds fine till the guy says his next sentence.
"Hey, why didn't you go with me when I bridged to that break? I mean you were right there."
"Um... my bike's mushy?"
I tried to stay cheery though. I figured I'd try and fool my body into feeling good. I managed to change 10 or 15 minutes before my race started, set up the helmet cam, accepted an offered GU packet (it tore by accident and the guy didn't want it), took a PowerGel to be safe, and lined up.
As soon as we started I knew I was not going well. I had a sort of shiver-hyper feeling, the kind that hits me right before I bonk. I tried to move up and stuff and actually sat near the front for a bit, just long enough to watch a break ride down the road. I decided I should let the break simmer for a lap and then go if someone went. So I was far enough in front to watch a group launch a nice chase. And I figured, well, I should probably go with the next move. And watched that go.
Eventually, no one was going. And the little peloton up the road just disappeared.
A full fifth of the field (a close to 100 rider field mind you) went away and I just watched them. And for the last two weeks I've thought "I better go with the moves because they're actually sticking this year.
I have to admit that I couldn't watch them on one lap because I was literally seeing stars while riding up the hill. At first I thought they were New England sand particles bouncing around but they were a little too consistent and spun in circles. I quickly dismissed the possibility of weird air currents around a rotating rear wheel as the reason for the circles, although when I first noticed them, the idea briefly crossed my mind. I almost stopped because I wasn't sure if I could keep my balance, but before I could fall over, the stars went away. I kept going.
I thought maybe the double sugar rush was too much so drank water. Drank almost all my water. No use. I didn't even toss my bottle because it was virtually empty, and I dreaded the walk to go pick it up.
Walk > Weight loss from bottle toss + psychological benefit from bottle toss = no bottle toss.
I figured I better move up and it happened to be at something like 4 to go. So I tried to stay up there, be aggressive, and do all the things you're supposed to do towards the end of a race. Follow moves for real, slice and dice, blah blah blah. I figured if we're sprinting for 19th (yes, 19th) place, well, nothing to lose if I do some work and stuff.
Not too much work mind you, just the stuff you're supposed to do.
So I followed certain guys, moved up when I could, and sat on wheels when it got windy. At the bell there were a few guys off the front, each alone, evenly spaced apart, sort of like moving wind shelters. A good rider would have been able to jump from one to another, like James Bond did on the alligator snouts, and launch off the last guy for a spectacular field sprint win. The "where the heck did he come from?" kind of win.
Alas I was not that kind of good.
I did go across a tiny little gap to some CT Coast Cycling rider who looked really strong. After I sat on his wheel for about 30 seconds, he turned around, saw me, and started going faster. Or maybe he saw the field about 30 feet behind me. Whatever, I was already at my limit and started to come off. Then he actually jumped.
How the heck did he do that? I mean he was pulling for something like a lap, then when I got there, he accelerated and then finally jumped.
Those alligator snouts bite back sometimes. If I was Bond, I'd be Bond-flavored 'gator food.
At the bottom of the hill I pulled off to let the field through and thought I almost took someone out since he pulled left just behind me. But he also sat up. He didn't yell at me so I think (and hope) he was simply trying to close the gap for the field or a friend in the field and sat up when he caught me.
I watched the field roll up the hill but sort of lost track as I lost all momentum. It probably took me a minute to go up the hill. I was dizzy, exhausted, and disappointed. Not a good combination for a racer.
I even gave my spot in the P/1/2/3 race to a friendly racer (I'm the promoter and he signed a waiver). And I just sat in a daze for a while on a registration table.
I decided I better change and get warm but someone came over and told me something weird had happened in the trees right by the start/finish. They're those pine needle trees that don't shed during the winter. Apparently some guy was in there breaking branches. Then spread them all over the lawn on that lot.
As we have enough trouble with the people on that corner I figured it'd be best to walk over there and pick up said branches.
So I did. The guy helped me. There were a lot of these branches and they were pretty shredded. I couldn't figure out why anyone would want to do such a thing - climb eight or ten feet into a couple trees (I saw the stubs up there), then toss said branches everywhere. And really, really shred them.
I carried the kindling over to the deserted lot behind the officials and tossed them back there. Asked them if they saw anyone abusing branches over there.
They started laughing.
"German Shepard."
Oh.
I'll have the helmet cam tape up at some point, hopefully this week.
And see what I can do next Sunday.
Meaning in the race.
It seems I only know how to write about bad races (from a racer's point of view). And here's another one.
Just as a counter point, the race from a promoter's point of view was pretty successful. The races went off pretty smoothly. The course wasn't icy. And we had some big fields. One crash marred the official paperwork and some very, very squirrelly and aggressive riding marred the unofficial rating of the race. I've heard reasonable complaints of chopping wheels and stuff before (meaning one guy complained and it didn't happen or it was misinterpreted) but today I heard enough, to, well, I can't do anything about it. Not officially. But when the officials also reported the same things, then it worried me. I don't want Bethel to be a wheel-chopping, elbow throwing, hip-checking kind of bike race series. At Bethel I want people to ride people off others' wheels so discretely they don't realize what happened till they're in the wind. And I want sprints to be won because someone outsprinted someone, not because they slammed the guy against the curb and then took off. I have to think about how to bring this about.
Back to the racer's perspective.
The day actually started out yesterday when I spent about six hours on my back installing a new exhaust system on my daily driver, a Honda Civic. Yes, it's one of those exhausts, but I couldn't resist upgrading. And yes I consider it an upgrade - it's stainless and won't rust through in three spots like my old exhaust.
You know how when you want a new wheelset it's nicer than the one it's replacing? Well I feel that way about car parts. If something wears out, I'll put something a little nicer on if it costs about the same as the replacement part. It did so I did.
Anyway, try laying on the pavement outside for about six hours. Okay, I'll give you this - you can get up, go hunt for a tool or anti-seize or get the impact wrench, but whatever you do, you have to lay back down for a few minutes at a time. Ideally you should be inhaling little specks of rust, jam your hand in weird positions, and do lots of crunches to peer up into the bottom of your car.
Then, when you're totally chilled to the bone, do it for a couple hours more.
The result? You wake up the next day with a sore throat, swollen glands, and a general feeling of malaise.
Hey, at least I got a shiny exhaust out of the whole deal.
So we got to the course this morning and it looked like one of those New England beaches - sand all over the place. And not normal sand like, say, on a postcard picture. It's New England sand. Rocks. Pebbles. They make walls out of this stuff. And it was all over the road.
We swept, blew, shoveled, and the whole time wondering what we need to do to get a weather-course break. Then when we thought we were done, the wet sand dried out. And we went out there and did it again.
Add breathing sand and a couple hours of hard labor to sore throat, swollen glands, and general malaise and you have a winning receipt for not winning races, field sprints, or a jog to the registration desk.
Between the two long rounds of course maintenance, I was checking out some of the bikes by the registration table. I'm still on the "My Giant is mushy" train of thought. Thankfully one guy said that they weren't mushy at all, but he might be trying to psyc me out.
Ok, I'm not serious about that, but it is one of those things you say to a racer, you know, the sort of thing you say when they doubt themselves and you're trying to be nice. Example:
"I think I need to lose weight. You think I need to lose weight?"
"No, you're fine. Damn you can sprint well."
"Hm thanks. Maybe I'll be okay with my weight for now."
"Definitely."
See? Sounds fine till the guy says his next sentence.
"Hey, why didn't you go with me when I bridged to that break? I mean you were right there."
"Um... my bike's mushy?"
I tried to stay cheery though. I figured I'd try and fool my body into feeling good. I managed to change 10 or 15 minutes before my race started, set up the helmet cam, accepted an offered GU packet (it tore by accident and the guy didn't want it), took a PowerGel to be safe, and lined up.
As soon as we started I knew I was not going well. I had a sort of shiver-hyper feeling, the kind that hits me right before I bonk. I tried to move up and stuff and actually sat near the front for a bit, just long enough to watch a break ride down the road. I decided I should let the break simmer for a lap and then go if someone went. So I was far enough in front to watch a group launch a nice chase. And I figured, well, I should probably go with the next move. And watched that go.
Eventually, no one was going. And the little peloton up the road just disappeared.
A full fifth of the field (a close to 100 rider field mind you) went away and I just watched them. And for the last two weeks I've thought "I better go with the moves because they're actually sticking this year.
I have to admit that I couldn't watch them on one lap because I was literally seeing stars while riding up the hill. At first I thought they were New England sand particles bouncing around but they were a little too consistent and spun in circles. I quickly dismissed the possibility of weird air currents around a rotating rear wheel as the reason for the circles, although when I first noticed them, the idea briefly crossed my mind. I almost stopped because I wasn't sure if I could keep my balance, but before I could fall over, the stars went away. I kept going.
I thought maybe the double sugar rush was too much so drank water. Drank almost all my water. No use. I didn't even toss my bottle because it was virtually empty, and I dreaded the walk to go pick it up.
Walk > Weight loss from bottle toss + psychological benefit from bottle toss = no bottle toss.
I figured I better move up and it happened to be at something like 4 to go. So I tried to stay up there, be aggressive, and do all the things you're supposed to do towards the end of a race. Follow moves for real, slice and dice, blah blah blah. I figured if we're sprinting for 19th (yes, 19th) place, well, nothing to lose if I do some work and stuff.
Not too much work mind you, just the stuff you're supposed to do.
So I followed certain guys, moved up when I could, and sat on wheels when it got windy. At the bell there were a few guys off the front, each alone, evenly spaced apart, sort of like moving wind shelters. A good rider would have been able to jump from one to another, like James Bond did on the alligator snouts, and launch off the last guy for a spectacular field sprint win. The "where the heck did he come from?" kind of win.
Alas I was not that kind of good.
I did go across a tiny little gap to some CT Coast Cycling rider who looked really strong. After I sat on his wheel for about 30 seconds, he turned around, saw me, and started going faster. Or maybe he saw the field about 30 feet behind me. Whatever, I was already at my limit and started to come off. Then he actually jumped.
How the heck did he do that? I mean he was pulling for something like a lap, then when I got there, he accelerated and then finally jumped.
Those alligator snouts bite back sometimes. If I was Bond, I'd be Bond-flavored 'gator food.
At the bottom of the hill I pulled off to let the field through and thought I almost took someone out since he pulled left just behind me. But he also sat up. He didn't yell at me so I think (and hope) he was simply trying to close the gap for the field or a friend in the field and sat up when he caught me.
I watched the field roll up the hill but sort of lost track as I lost all momentum. It probably took me a minute to go up the hill. I was dizzy, exhausted, and disappointed. Not a good combination for a racer.
I even gave my spot in the P/1/2/3 race to a friendly racer (I'm the promoter and he signed a waiver). And I just sat in a daze for a while on a registration table.
I decided I better change and get warm but someone came over and told me something weird had happened in the trees right by the start/finish. They're those pine needle trees that don't shed during the winter. Apparently some guy was in there breaking branches. Then spread them all over the lawn on that lot.
As we have enough trouble with the people on that corner I figured it'd be best to walk over there and pick up said branches.
So I did. The guy helped me. There were a lot of these branches and they were pretty shredded. I couldn't figure out why anyone would want to do such a thing - climb eight or ten feet into a couple trees (I saw the stubs up there), then toss said branches everywhere. And really, really shred them.
I carried the kindling over to the deserted lot behind the officials and tossed them back there. Asked them if they saw anyone abusing branches over there.
They started laughing.
"German Shepard."
Oh.
I'll have the helmet cam tape up at some point, hopefully this week.
And see what I can do next Sunday.
Meaning in the race.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
How - To: crankarm lengths
I'm about 5'7" and have short legs. I have something like a 29" inseam. I ride a size Small Giant TCR. As you probably know already, I sprint well, I don't TT or climb well.
Normally sprinting means short cranks. Track racers typically use 165's, and 170's are considered "long". The realm of long cranks are the mysterious and elusive worlds of climbing and TT'ing. Mysterious and elusive to me anyway.
Sprinting. Speed over power. Explosive acceleration. 19,000 rpm Formula 1 versus 1,500 rpm Mac trucks.
But then I look at BMX racers. They race a one speed bike, it's a very low gear, and their races are essentially standing start sprints. But they use the longest cranks possible - it's sort of normal to have 180's. It just seems to go against my intuition. I figure they get a jump at the start then immediately spin out and get passed. But that's not the case. They go like crazy all the way to the line.
In 2001 my fitness deteriorated as I spent a lot of time with my mom. I'd get out to do my favorite Summer Street Sprints, but I was going slower and slower all the time - my speed dropped from about 43 mph to just over 30 mph over the course of the year. My race results reflected this lack of fitness. There were races where I lasted one lap, group rides where I got shelled on the first hill.
In the warm-up.
I was hurting.
Nevertheless, in October 2001, I went for a ride with a not-racing-anymore teammate David (ex Cat3). As unfit as I was, he claimed to be even less fit. To "handicap" myself, he asked me to ride my mountain bike while he rode his road bike. Unlike my road bikes and my previous mountain bikes, this mountain bike had 175's (my road bikes had 170's). Normally I'd put the same crank length on my mountain bike (so my legs trained on the same crank length), but since this was a beater trade, I left it totally stock except to put on a longer stem. The bike retained its original unusably bent middle ring, the 2 pound steel bead tires, the bent bottle cage, even the seat.
During the ride, my friend struggled on some of the bits where you need some semblance of aerobic fitness. Even on the mountain bike I got antsy. I really wanted to make a big effort so I asked him if he was okay with it. He was, I went, and he dug deep to stay on my wheel. After I eased he came up next to me, excited and thrilled at the burst of speed. I had gone 33 mph on a slight uphill with quite a bit of a cross/head wind.
And I hadn't sprinted per se, I just powered my biggest gear while seated.
My mountain bike had nothing "fast" on it. Compared to my 18 or so pound road bike with 22 mm 120+ psi tires, drop bars, and better gears, I shouldn't have gone as fast "pursuiting" on the mountain bike as sprinting on my road bike.
I thought about those BMX'ers and figured the 175's might be the ticket.
I bought a pair of 175's (same model as my 170's, just longer) and put them on my road bike. If they didn't work out, I'd give them to some taller rider. With my updated bike I went out to my favorite sprint road. My previous sprints were at 31-33 mph. 7 minutes into my ride, I sprinted on the 175's (identical bike otherwise).
41 mph.
The 175's stayed.
No kidding right? I also bought another set for my second bike. And I decided to keep them on the mountain bike.
I've heard a lot of people preach about how long cranks screw up knees. I thought about this too since I didn't want to screw up my very fragile knees. And I came up with the following ideas/steps:
1. When I put the 175's on it was sometime in late Oct, early Nov. I rode them on a trainer and rollers till February, focusing on spinning. My long rides were over two hours long, and one was over three hours. My initial comfortable cadence dropped from 110+ on 170's to below 80 on 175's. For reference, after five years, I've been stable at being comfortable at 95-100 rpms.
2. I dropped my seat about 5 mm so I kept my same leg extension. My knee has more of an acute angle at the top of the pedal stroke but I figured the extension would be more important.
3. The seducing aspect of long cranks is that you can use much bigger gears. Instead of spinning a 39xsomething up a hill, you just pound a 53x15. Anytime you push big gears at lower rpms, you increase the load on your knees (and the length of time of the load). This kills your knees. I was very careful to try and keep my cadence similar to my short crank cadence on climbs (80-ish or more). Realistically I dropped about 10 rpms to 70-ish, but this beats the 50 or 60 that I wanted to do initially.
4. I did a LOT of time on the bike getting used to the cranks. I only started making violent efforts when I felt comfortable with the cranks.
I can say the following:
1. I have yet to have any pain beyond the normal aches during my "training camps" where I ride months of my normal training time in a couple weeks.
2. After not placing at the CT Criterium Championships for a long time, and training less and less from Sept 2000 till July 2002, I placed an extremely close second at the Nutmeg State games and won the CT Criterium Gold Medal. I've since added a silver, a gold, and a bronze. The last time I won a medal was a silver in 1995 (when I was much more fit, about 40 lbs lighter, and I was on 167.5's). This has a flat finish which favors speed.
3. After not placing overall at the Bethel Spring Series (which as you know I promote and race in), I placed second, first, and third overall in the 2004, 2005, 2006. This has an uphill sprint so it favors a longer crank.
4. I still can't TT or climb.
I have found long cranks to be very, very helpful. I previously tried longer (172.5) cranks a few times but gave up after a week or two. I had to commit and get used to the long cranks in order to use them successfully.
If you are careful and sensible, you may find that longer cranks work well for you.
Normally sprinting means short cranks. Track racers typically use 165's, and 170's are considered "long". The realm of long cranks are the mysterious and elusive worlds of climbing and TT'ing. Mysterious and elusive to me anyway.
Sprinting. Speed over power. Explosive acceleration. 19,000 rpm Formula 1 versus 1,500 rpm Mac trucks.
But then I look at BMX racers. They race a one speed bike, it's a very low gear, and their races are essentially standing start sprints. But they use the longest cranks possible - it's sort of normal to have 180's. It just seems to go against my intuition. I figure they get a jump at the start then immediately spin out and get passed. But that's not the case. They go like crazy all the way to the line.
In 2001 my fitness deteriorated as I spent a lot of time with my mom. I'd get out to do my favorite Summer Street Sprints, but I was going slower and slower all the time - my speed dropped from about 43 mph to just over 30 mph over the course of the year. My race results reflected this lack of fitness. There were races where I lasted one lap, group rides where I got shelled on the first hill.
In the warm-up.
I was hurting.
Nevertheless, in October 2001, I went for a ride with a not-racing-anymore teammate David (ex Cat3). As unfit as I was, he claimed to be even less fit. To "handicap" myself, he asked me to ride my mountain bike while he rode his road bike. Unlike my road bikes and my previous mountain bikes, this mountain bike had 175's (my road bikes had 170's). Normally I'd put the same crank length on my mountain bike (so my legs trained on the same crank length), but since this was a beater trade, I left it totally stock except to put on a longer stem. The bike retained its original unusably bent middle ring, the 2 pound steel bead tires, the bent bottle cage, even the seat.
During the ride, my friend struggled on some of the bits where you need some semblance of aerobic fitness. Even on the mountain bike I got antsy. I really wanted to make a big effort so I asked him if he was okay with it. He was, I went, and he dug deep to stay on my wheel. After I eased he came up next to me, excited and thrilled at the burst of speed. I had gone 33 mph on a slight uphill with quite a bit of a cross/head wind.
And I hadn't sprinted per se, I just powered my biggest gear while seated.
My mountain bike had nothing "fast" on it. Compared to my 18 or so pound road bike with 22 mm 120+ psi tires, drop bars, and better gears, I shouldn't have gone as fast "pursuiting" on the mountain bike as sprinting on my road bike.
I thought about those BMX'ers and figured the 175's might be the ticket.
I bought a pair of 175's (same model as my 170's, just longer) and put them on my road bike. If they didn't work out, I'd give them to some taller rider. With my updated bike I went out to my favorite sprint road. My previous sprints were at 31-33 mph. 7 minutes into my ride, I sprinted on the 175's (identical bike otherwise).
41 mph.
The 175's stayed.
No kidding right? I also bought another set for my second bike. And I decided to keep them on the mountain bike.
I've heard a lot of people preach about how long cranks screw up knees. I thought about this too since I didn't want to screw up my very fragile knees. And I came up with the following ideas/steps:
1. When I put the 175's on it was sometime in late Oct, early Nov. I rode them on a trainer and rollers till February, focusing on spinning. My long rides were over two hours long, and one was over three hours. My initial comfortable cadence dropped from 110+ on 170's to below 80 on 175's. For reference, after five years, I've been stable at being comfortable at 95-100 rpms.
2. I dropped my seat about 5 mm so I kept my same leg extension. My knee has more of an acute angle at the top of the pedal stroke but I figured the extension would be more important.
3. The seducing aspect of long cranks is that you can use much bigger gears. Instead of spinning a 39xsomething up a hill, you just pound a 53x15. Anytime you push big gears at lower rpms, you increase the load on your knees (and the length of time of the load). This kills your knees. I was very careful to try and keep my cadence similar to my short crank cadence on climbs (80-ish or more). Realistically I dropped about 10 rpms to 70-ish, but this beats the 50 or 60 that I wanted to do initially.
4. I did a LOT of time on the bike getting used to the cranks. I only started making violent efforts when I felt comfortable with the cranks.
I can say the following:
1. I have yet to have any pain beyond the normal aches during my "training camps" where I ride months of my normal training time in a couple weeks.
2. After not placing at the CT Criterium Championships for a long time, and training less and less from Sept 2000 till July 2002, I placed an extremely close second at the Nutmeg State games and won the CT Criterium Gold Medal. I've since added a silver, a gold, and a bronze. The last time I won a medal was a silver in 1995 (when I was much more fit, about 40 lbs lighter, and I was on 167.5's). This has a flat finish which favors speed.
3. After not placing overall at the Bethel Spring Series (which as you know I promote and race in), I placed second, first, and third overall in the 2004, 2005, 2006. This has an uphill sprint so it favors a longer crank.
4. I still can't TT or climb.
I have found long cranks to be very, very helpful. I previously tried longer (172.5) cranks a few times but gave up after a week or two. I had to commit and get used to the long cranks in order to use them successfully.
If you are careful and sensible, you may find that longer cranks work well for you.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Bethel Spring Series - pre Bethel CDP Gold Race
After last week's snow fiasco it's nice to have weather in the 50's and 60's. There was a lot of snow even yesterday and I went out with a metal shovel to break up some of the big stuff. It covered about three feet of the narrow street and I figured it would be better to get it broken up so it would melt quicker.
I'd been going at it for about five minutes when this old guy walks up to me.
"So you had problems with the water, eh?"
What?
This guy is like a yard work ghost. It seems that whenever I'm doing some unusual yard work (violent weeding) or even not (mowing, leaf blowing), he'll walk up to me and tell me a few things.
First, he "owned this whole street" but he was a kid and signed it away. Second, he always points out to me that I really ought to do something about blank (he'll say something which I normally don't understand). Third, he makes assumptions about whatever it is I'm doing. Fourth, he starts telling me that I drive too fancy a car, that I really ought to own a house instead of renting it, and other things about living my life better.
I tried to point out to him I buy my cars outright, I own my home (well, the mortgage, and no, it's not a subprime doozy), and I do try and do things the right way. After a couple tries, I gave up.
So anyway, he came over while I was chopping up snow in a t-shirt and jeans and made his normal assertions. I ignored him and he left.
I forgot, he stands about a foot away when he says all this.
And yells.
Anyway, because of all the snow and how it froze after it melted a bit, my upper body got quite a workout over the last week or so. They feel pretty fit. My legs... well, nothing really.
Sunday is the Bethel CDP Gold Race (CDP for Carpe Diem Promotions). I'm finally not sick - I guess the flu went to Europe and snagged a bunch of guys there - and, to put a positive spin on not really riding for a couple weeks (except for the races), I'm really fresh.
Really, really fresh.
I keep telling myself that second bit.
We'll see. Tomorrow I'll do the standard pre-race prep - charge radios for the marshals, pack gear, stage my bikes, things like that. I'll have to put some air in the tires - the van tires are rated to 80 psi for heavy loads, 40 psi when it's empty. Since it's on the heavier side, I want to bump it up to 60-70 psi.
And I have chores to do. A PODS is being delivered (we're refinishing floors in preparation for a house sale). I'll get to witness the PODS-zilla live! I have a new exhaust system to install on my beat-up, 14 year old, quarter-million mile Honda. Yeah, it's one of those huge canister exhaust things. But I couldn't get just a regular one. So I'll look like one of those punk kids with the sideways cap, slammed seat, and thumping stereo (without the cap, slammed, and thump bits), especially since the car has no straight body panels and a really bashed up back half. I want to change the Honda's oil as well.
I hope I'll be able to get a ride in there somewhere.
And I just know that old guy will pop up when the PODS shows up.
I'll wear my ear plugs.
I'd been going at it for about five minutes when this old guy walks up to me.
"So you had problems with the water, eh?"
What?
This guy is like a yard work ghost. It seems that whenever I'm doing some unusual yard work (violent weeding) or even not (mowing, leaf blowing), he'll walk up to me and tell me a few things.
First, he "owned this whole street" but he was a kid and signed it away. Second, he always points out to me that I really ought to do something about blank (he'll say something which I normally don't understand). Third, he makes assumptions about whatever it is I'm doing. Fourth, he starts telling me that I drive too fancy a car, that I really ought to own a house instead of renting it, and other things about living my life better.
I tried to point out to him I buy my cars outright, I own my home (well, the mortgage, and no, it's not a subprime doozy), and I do try and do things the right way. After a couple tries, I gave up.
So anyway, he came over while I was chopping up snow in a t-shirt and jeans and made his normal assertions. I ignored him and he left.
I forgot, he stands about a foot away when he says all this.
And yells.
Anyway, because of all the snow and how it froze after it melted a bit, my upper body got quite a workout over the last week or so. They feel pretty fit. My legs... well, nothing really.
Sunday is the Bethel CDP Gold Race (CDP for Carpe Diem Promotions). I'm finally not sick - I guess the flu went to Europe and snagged a bunch of guys there - and, to put a positive spin on not really riding for a couple weeks (except for the races), I'm really fresh.
Really, really fresh.
I keep telling myself that second bit.
We'll see. Tomorrow I'll do the standard pre-race prep - charge radios for the marshals, pack gear, stage my bikes, things like that. I'll have to put some air in the tires - the van tires are rated to 80 psi for heavy loads, 40 psi when it's empty. Since it's on the heavier side, I want to bump it up to 60-70 psi.
And I have chores to do. A PODS is being delivered (we're refinishing floors in preparation for a house sale). I'll get to witness the PODS-zilla live! I have a new exhaust system to install on my beat-up, 14 year old, quarter-million mile Honda. Yeah, it's one of those huge canister exhaust things. But I couldn't get just a regular one. So I'll look like one of those punk kids with the sideways cap, slammed seat, and thumping stereo (without the cap, slammed, and thump bits), especially since the car has no straight body panels and a really bashed up back half. I want to change the Honda's oil as well.
I hope I'll be able to get a ride in there somewhere.
And I just know that old guy will pop up when the PODS shows up.
I'll wear my ear plugs.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tribute to my mom, Part 2 - 2006 Nutmeg State Games
As the previous post describes, I made a promise to my mom just before she died. There are two parts to the promise and two posts. Part One, the previous post, describes the story leading up to the winning the 2005 Bethel Spring Series.
This is Part Two - my promise to win the CT Criterium Championships at the Nutmeg State Games.
In 2004 I simply didn't race. I think a friend was getting married and since I figured the Nutmeg State Games would be back, I didn't enter the race.
In 2005 I made it to the race. I felt good, had a great Series in the spring per my previous post, and felt like I had a good chance to succeed at the Nutmeg State Games. Then a big break went away - it had something like 14 or 15 riders in it. I'm not a break person and I got desperate as the field started shutting down as the break's teammates started covering all the moves. But, realizing I had to do the impossible (for me), I decided to try and bridge.
And for the first time in my life, I bridged up to the break by following another guy who happened to attack at the same time as I did. We picked up a third guy and dragged him to the break. Once there I couldn't work because I was totally and absolutely cooked. Because of this I really hesitated in the last lap - I didn't feel right doing a 100% sprint without contributing a lot to the break. So I sat at the back, watched guys go for it, and jumped near the line. I got the bronze for CT by placing 7th. I was disappointed but felt it was appropriate - I was not the best racer that day, and a win would have felt cheap.
This then is the clip from 2006.
Two notes - First, although I don't mention it, for literally about 5-7 seconds someone pushes me quite hard on my left side with two laps to go, right after the start finish. He was on my left and trying to get through some impossible gap. The push starts just before the 2:00 mark. It ended after we passed the two sewer grates.
Second, there was a pretty spectacular crash just after the line after we got the bell. It was behind and to the right. When the guy in front of me does a little acceleration and opens a little gap, that's right after the crash happened. It happened at about 4:20 into the clip.
This is Part Two - my promise to win the CT Criterium Championships at the Nutmeg State Games.
In 2004 I simply didn't race. I think a friend was getting married and since I figured the Nutmeg State Games would be back, I didn't enter the race.
In 2005 I made it to the race. I felt good, had a great Series in the spring per my previous post, and felt like I had a good chance to succeed at the Nutmeg State Games. Then a big break went away - it had something like 14 or 15 riders in it. I'm not a break person and I got desperate as the field started shutting down as the break's teammates started covering all the moves. But, realizing I had to do the impossible (for me), I decided to try and bridge.
And for the first time in my life, I bridged up to the break by following another guy who happened to attack at the same time as I did. We picked up a third guy and dragged him to the break. Once there I couldn't work because I was totally and absolutely cooked. Because of this I really hesitated in the last lap - I didn't feel right doing a 100% sprint without contributing a lot to the break. So I sat at the back, watched guys go for it, and jumped near the line. I got the bronze for CT by placing 7th. I was disappointed but felt it was appropriate - I was not the best racer that day, and a win would have felt cheap.
This then is the clip from 2006.
Two notes - First, although I don't mention it, for literally about 5-7 seconds someone pushes me quite hard on my left side with two laps to go, right after the start finish. He was on my left and trying to get through some impossible gap. The push starts just before the 2:00 mark. It ended after we passed the two sewer grates.
Second, there was a pretty spectacular crash just after the line after we got the bell. It was behind and to the right. When the guy in front of me does a little acceleration and opens a little gap, that's right after the crash happened. It happened at about 4:20 into the clip.
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