Keith Berger Criterium, cat 3

Seven races in nine days began Sunday at the Keith Berger Criterium in East Hartford, CT. This is the heart of the New England racing season. Also this week we have Exeter Criterium, the last CBTT to tune up for Longsjo, and of course the Longsjo itself.

Keith Berger offered a straight cat3 field in a 30-lap race around a 4-corner loop that is supposedly 1-mile per lap. Given that we finished in an hour and 2 minutes, I’m skeptical that we really did 30 miles with a 29mph average. Maybe it's only 0.9 miles per lap, something like that.

51 starters in this race. I took a warmup lap after the 4’s finished and nearly missed the start. They were really running the races quickly. Lining up at the back is no big deal here thanks to the nice wide corners. I made my way to the front with minimal effort by the end of lap 2.

The first few laps were sketchy as everyone was feeling out the turns. So much unnecessary braking. This probably made it easier to move up.

Green Line Velo (GLV) took charge of the early primes and set up nice leadout trains for Moran. I was more interested in a result today than prime hunting and my gameplan was to conserve in the first half of this relatively long cat3 crit. However, when the prime bell rang for the second time on lap 7 I found myself right behind GLV. They organized quickly and set the pace at the front of the field.

What made GLV’s leadout successful wasn’t so much overwhelming power on the straights, but a complete lack of fear on the corners. We didn’t slow down a bit and used every inch of the road. As a result, there was no swarming going into the corners.

I was glued to Moran’s wheel from turn 1 and wasn’t being challenged at all for the position. His final leadout man started fading as we approached turn 4, but it didn’t matter because there is little space between turns 3 and 4. I was waiting for Moran to jump and thought he might go before we made turn 4. I was ready for a move, but he didn’t go. Coming out of turn 4 it’s a ~250m dash for the line and still nothing. I was confused and hesitated, and I think he was just executing the same strategy as me: don’t be the first to jump.

With less than 200m to go I pulled up alongside Moran and he finally started to kick. We were neck and neck, but he was just holding me off by half a bike length. It felt like I was stuck just that little distance behind and couldn’t do anything about it. My cadence felt high, maybe it was too high, I’m not sure. It seemed like I was missing that good sprinting snap and I was frustrated to lose the sprint.

I looked back after the prime and we had a pretty sizeable gap. Maybe the leadout caused separation in the field. Instead of easing of entirely I settled in to a tempo pace, maintaining my gap and hoping a counter attack might go off.

Sure enough, a two man break came up and joined me around turn 3. It was Eric Brassel (545) and someone that I didn’t recognize. This move was short lived as a strung out field reeled us in shortly after.

I was a bit tired after that little dig and had a nice rest in the field. Before long I was pretty near the back where I came across Greg Vigneaux (Gearworks). He seemed to be having tea time or something and was more than happy to have a conversation and share a few laughs. Not really a crit racer, at all, but he was obviously planning some sort of breakaway so I made note of it and got back to racing. Is it rude to walk away from conversation at the back of the peloton?

Wow were there lots of primes. Seemed like there was a prime every 3 laps or so. I was a bit discouraged after losing the one prime I went for so I kept focused on the finish.

The primes did make the race faster and harder, and at some point a significant break of 6 got free. Gearworks got two in the move, including Greg, and so was a larger team in red kits that I am unfamiliar with (fusionthink maybe?).

It looked like a good break to me and I wanted in. The field was making a bit of an effort to bring it back but we really weren’t making much ground on it. A small group of 3 attacked up the far side of the road to try and bridge, and I hopped on that attack. We had a gap on the field and made it about half way to the lead group but we were dieing. A strong rider pulled off and we immediately slowed down so I attacked hard and pulled someone else with me. I made up about half the remaining distance but my legs said no more.

The break was not meant to be and fell apart on the next prime. I think 3 guys went for it while the others kept working for the breakaway.

With 7 to go we were gruppo compacto and there seemed to be no fight left in the bunch. We slowed way down. I considered countering but I liked my odds in a bunch sprint more. I suppose everyone thought they were Mark Cavendish. I wasn’t under a bit of pressure and my legs felt like new when we hit the bell lap.

On the final lap I took turn 1 tight and moved way up into 4^th or 5^th wheel, slotting in behind a few Bethel jerseys. It seemed like a great position at the time.

Before the race internet cycling celebrity Dave Chiu advised me to secure a good position in turn 3. I was 4^th wheel at the start of the backstraight and I thought I had nailed it.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

There might as well have been a finish line drawn on the pavement half way through turn 3. I was sitting there, 4^th wheel, right in the middle of the road, when cyclists starting flying around me on both sides. It was like I was on the loser Garmin leadout train on the Avenue des Champs-Élysées with 2 HTC Columbia trains overtaking me on either side. We flew into turn 4 at maximum speed, five riders wide. This was the most terrifying moment of the season for me.

What happened between turn 3 and the finish was a blur. I wanted to be on the inside for safety’s sake, but that wasn’t an option because fourteen million racers dive bombed it. I really made out OK all things considered, and I was able to sprint up the outside after turn 4 into a nice clear lane.

Once again my legs refused to go on the sprint. I made up a few positions because somehow I finished 13^th, but I didn’t have anywhere near the explosiveness that I wanted. To rub salt in the wound, Luke Fortini showed me how it’s done and absolutely smoked me, sprinting from behind me in turn 4 all the way to 7^th. That’s the second time this season he’s made me feel slow (see Turtle Pond). Very impressive anyways.

Tonight I’m off to Exeter for the downtown Pro/Am crit. I feel strong but hopefully these crits will put some snap back in my legs before Longsjo. Otherwise it’s going to be a pretty uneventful race. Stay tuned.

Charlie Baker Time Trial, 6/24

Another hot night at the CBTT. 85°F come race time. Wind was calm, and if I could keep the power good, I expected it would be a fast night. As long as I could stand the heat of course.

That was a big if though. I’ve felt lousy the past couple of weeks. My most recent cycle of antibiotics really hit me hard, but at least it finally took out whatever kind of infection I had. Oddly, it left my leg and foot swollen, and my doctor says I should just wear compression tights. Beats me. Hopefully I’ll start having a bit more energy sooner than later.

Fitness has really gone down since KSR. I’m kind of at the point where I download my power files but don’t log them. It’s too painful seeing your weekly volume numbers at 75% of where you’d like them. Once I start feeling like I’m crushing it again I’ll have to log it all. This is far from the ideal leadup to Longsjo.

On a much more positive note, I think I mostly fixed a major shifting issue on my De Rosa TT bike. For KSR I had sort of a makeshift solution with an external cable running all the way from the shifter to the rear derailleur. The internal routing had some weird sort of slop in it. As the cable tension increases, something internally compresses which means the derailleur doesn’t move and no shifty shifty. Argh!

It’s been a while since I’ve read setup directions for a rear derailleur so I don’t know if this is “right”, but normally I just shift into the 11T, pull the cable tight, and lock it down. Takes 2 seconds.

Ended up doing the entirely opposite approach with the TT bike. I forced the rear derailleur into the easy gear (big cog) position, then took a pair of pliers and tightened the living heck out of the cable before locking it down. The idea was to compress whatever is moving around internally. It took a few tries, I had to ask Erica for help because I didn’t have enough hands, and I still had to back the fine adjustment dial way out after locking it down, but I think I created enough cable tension to compress whatever slop there is inside the frame.

And it KIND OF works! Sure, there are plenty of times where I shift up or down and nothing happens, but if that happens I just shift again and it’s all good. I had this problem with the externally routed housing solution so I think I’m just going to go with it. Maybe it’ll get broken in over time. If nothing else I’m happy that it looks like a normal bike now. TT bikes look FAST.

So yeah, this is a race report, because I did a race. Well the bike setup and lead up to the race is about the most interesting part because my Powertap went way out of calibration for some reason and I got bad data. I averaged 84 watts! At least I hope that’s incorrect… Kind of annoying because I just shelled out $300 to Saris to get this thing overhauled.

I probably went out too hard. I glimpsed down a time or two after accelerating up to speed to make sure I wasn’t doing 400W or something (which seem to happen all the time). It read two hundred and something so I thought I was all good. That might have been a legit reading but I don’t know. Who cares. What I do know was that I hurt pretty early on. It’s a TT though so it’s supposed to hurt. I looked down again around 5 minutes in and I was doing 120W. Sweet. Time to go by feel.

Gary Jas-ican’tspellit started a minute behind me and passed me just after the Carlisle rotary. He ended up going sub-21 so that makes sense but it was still frustrating at the time. My split at the rotary was low 10’s, which is right on target, and I generally thought my speed was decent so who cares what the watts were.

I always seem to blow up around that stair step hill on Monument Road at the town line about 15 minutes in. That’s where it starts to hurt really really badly anyways. Keeping my speed over that hill always sends me into the red enough that I’m backing way off on the gradual downhills that follow. One of these days I might want it badly enough that I keep pedaling hard here. Today was not that day and I was slowwwwwwwww.

It was probably a good thing I didn’t have a power meter because I’m sure I was barely pedaling. It was like I was TRYING to go slow by the time I crested that final hill. You really need to power over the top to get your speed up again but I pretty much sat up instead. No fight in me. I gotta get this feeling lousy thing out of my head so I want to go fast again.

I finished in 23:22, 25.0 mph. Slowest time of the year but that’s still 16 seconds than my best time in 2009. Hooray aero gear! At least I have that going for me. There’s no way my average was above 260W today (3.56w/kg).

One other thing I totally forgot about until now. I forgot to bring a water bottle with me today! Keep in mind it was 85 out and I wore a long sleeve skin suit. Boy was I thirsty Good thing there’s a water fountain at the restrooms. I wonder if anyone thought it was weird that I kept pulling off to go to the bathrooms before the race?

Wild Goose Chase Canoe Race

Sunday was Father’s Day and I was back to Pittsfield. Not that my bike racing readers care much, but there was canoe race only 5 minutes away! We’re talking a real deal, legit USCA race… the Wild Goose Chase Canoe Race! Catchy huh? Canoe racing is awesome.

A couple of notes about canoe racing from the perspective of someone that does 50 bike races a year:

1. Canoe racers are built upside down
2. My entry fee was $15 for a 90 minute race
3. I got a T-shirt and post-race meal for no additional charge
4. There were 5 specators
5. My 18 foot canoe cost less than the front wheel of my bike
6. I couldn’t measure my watts

I raced in a C-1 canoe. That means I was by myself. A lot of people race in ‘C-2’ 2-man boats or a K-1 kayak. When I last did the Run of the Charles I was told that C-1’s were a class that was fading away. That might make me old school, which sounds kinda cool, but I think you can only be old school if you’re fast. I’m not fast. My arms were tired just taking the boat off the car. Roadie.

Dad and Shawn registered as a C-2 open team. The nice lady at registration asked me what kind of boat I had, and I told her a C-1. Then she asked me how old I was and I said 28. She told me that I would be in the C-1 under 50 category. Interesting!

Canoe races start in waves. Today, the cheaters I MEAN ICF kayaks go first, because they are ridiculously fast and are like motor doping. Then 2 waves of C-2’s go off then it’s time for the C-1’s. Because we are slow and everyone else needs a head start to avoid a demolition derby. How boring.

So we’re sitting around waiting to start and there are 7 of us C-1’s. Two of us (including myself) have any color at all left in our hair and between the two of us, I was the only one with male genital. Guess what that means? C-1 male 50&under champion by default baby!

But there was still racing to be done. It was a nine mile race on the twisty Housatonic river in an out and back format. Lots of turns, which means lots crashing and lots of fun. Secretly I was hoping that my brother and Dad would swamp there but which would allow me to make up the 4 minute deficit on them so we could duke it out.

The whistle goes off and our wave of boats charged ahead for the holeshot. I did not get it. Of the 7 boats in our wave, I was 7^th. We stayed a pack for about 1 minute, then I was like OGM I CAN’T GO ZONE 6 FOR 90 MINUTES and I stopped “sprinting.” Then I got dropped by all the greybeards. I was not even close to staying with them. Boy those guys can move.

I kinda sorta kept the female in our wave in sight, but I think that mostly due to taking risks on the corners. I was taking a tight inside line as much as possible. The risk is that you’ll hit shallow water and come screeching to a halt in suck water. Or even worse you’ll hit rocks. She was being all conservative in her line picking while I was being mostly aggressive. You know, because I’m a competitive canoe racer. So I was actually close to not being dead last. Then we hit a straightaway and she was like CYA SUCKER. Then I was dead last and couldn’t see anybody and didn’t feel like I was racing anymore. Dad and Shawn are about as good as I am, which is not good at all, and I only caught a glimpse of them at the turnaround point. Otherwise it was like a canoe racing time trial.

My hands got torn apart before I could do too much damage to my upper body so I wasn’t even really that sore after the race. It’s just my hands that hurt with lots of blisters and even those aren’t all bad. Oh well, at least I’m the 2010 Goose Chase C-1 Under 50 Champion! (even though I finished 20 minutes back!)

Purgatory Road Race, cat3

Purgatory was a new race on the calendar for 2010 and the course was in an area I’d never ridden around before, south of Worcester in Sutton, MA. Mapmyride showed the maximum gradient to be 4% but I’ve been fooled by those jokers before and knew better this time. I focused on this finishing climb thing and I eventually decided it was about a 2.5 minute climb. Not too bad, even if it’s steep. I knew I wouldn’t be winning any sprint to the top of it but I figured maybe I could launch some glorious solo move in the style of classics great Philippe Gilbert. Yeah, in my dreams…

The ruler of the internet should delete MapMyRide. Even though I wasn’t fooled by the finishing climb, I totally underestimated the rest of the course. With the exception of maybe 1 mile, the entire 10 mile loop is either up or down. I think you should be able to tell this by looking at an elevation profile, but the mapmyride profile looks gentle and loving.

Not knowing the course is no excuse, and I don’t really blame mapmyride, I was just totally not in the right mindset for what was coming. There were 50 of us or so in the 3 field and all heck broke loose the second the neutral start ended. I knew there was some sort of tiny riser right at the start of the lap but I didn’t think anything of it. Well WAKE UP LEGS, tiny little risers hurt when you sprint up them! Especially on mile 1 of 50.

After that riser we immediately go into a fast and twisty descent through thick woods with shade making for extreme level of contrast. I went from wondering why I was pedaling so hard to thinking I was going to run into a tree. Yikes, but that is OK because we are bike racers and this is what we do. Need to focus.

I start getting in the zone and moving up a bit. We go around a 90 degree turn sprint out of it and then hammer up some riser.

On the other side of that hill is some rough pavement, another 90 degree turn, and again we’re sprinting. Maybe I misread the flyer and the race is really 5 miles and not 50.

I could go on but I’ll just let you reread those previous 3 paragraphs a few times instead. Up, down, turn sprint, yadda yadda yadda. Why am I breathing so hard? My legs feel funny. We’re not even at the first hill yet. What’s going on here?!

That’s not all true, because at some point there WAS about a mile of flat road and we went slow there. Except when the field eased off I rolled up to the front . And when I say rolled I mean 0 rpm cadence, 0 watts, no one wanted to be on front. I figured 0 watts is 0 watts so whatever dude I’ll take the reigns here. I did pedal a few times on the flats though. It felt easy, recovery like, but who knows. If I had a Jesus meter it probably would have said I was cranking it and I’d feel badly now. But then again I couldn’t have been pedaling too hard because a lot of juniors got impatient and attacked. First one, then two, then a third, and all of the sudden we were all chasing it down. Strung out, single file, working hard.

All of the sudden there’s a lake to my left, and shortly after we’re turning right. Lackey Road! The finishing climb! I said heck with mapmyride and your 4% grade and grabbed my little ring. That was the best decision I made all day. Boy that was steep. The thick trees, the gradient, the turns, it all reminded me of Prospect Hill repeats in Waltham. The gradient backs off ever so slightly after each turn but the length of the climb is hidden.

I made it to the top of the climb intact with the group but mostly because I started at the front and sag climbed. There’s a short little downhill after the top before a long false flat across the finish. I was breathing hard and thought I was good for a moment, but then some clown decided to pedal hard and we were strung out again.

This is where doing vo2 intervals and over/unders all becomes worthwhile. Your heart rate is pegged, lactic acid is poisoning your veins, and you have to keep pedaling. Not super hard but hard enough to stay intact. Hopefully it’s somewhere right around threshold or preferably slightly easier so you can recover. I’ve been good at this in 2010 and I haven’t been getting dropped as a result.

It hurts like heck to keep going like this and I just didn’t have it in me today. I was totally blown and got shelled right at the finish line. I haven’t blown up like this all season and I’d forgotten how awful it feels. At Battenkill and Killington I was able to back off just before this point knowing that I could chase back on if I didn’t go too deep into the red.

So I took my lap of shame and that was pretty much all she wrote. I made a wrong turn because I was too anaerobic on the first lap and couldn’t remember where the course went. I also got my picture taken a lot. I started to take a third lap because the course is downhill and easy when you have to make that decision, but then I turned off the course after some awful riser. Then I got lost until I found some sign for a demolished old restaurant called Blue Jay’s or something that we passed on our neutral start. But somehow I was totally OK with all this because it was nice out and I wasn’t racing in the rain again and that was kinda sorta fun somehow. And because I had convinced myself that everyone in the cat3’s is motor doping except me.

Oh yeah, people usually come here looking for info about courses, and I'm sure this race will be no different. I think this race is a lot like the Bow Road Race (which is no more). Or maybe like an Ardennes Classic, or at least how they look on TV. Not really a pure climbers course, not for the sprinter, but a master of attrition with a kick. A strongman escapee specialist would probably like this course too.

The end.

Northampton 5k

My brother was in town this week and I’m battling some stupid antibiotics, so it seemed like a good time to celebrate my annual “Remind Me Why I Don’t Run” day. Both brothers were doing the Northampton 5k series, a race I used to frequent back before bicycles, so I talked Andrew into making the trip with me. It took little convincing because the post-race agenda was to hit up Wings Over Amherst. If you’ve been there you understand.

Anyways, yeah, there was a running race, and I had to do that before our feast. This race is great. A $4 entry includes mid-race water support and all the cookies, bananas, popsicles, etc that you can consume post-race. Not to mention the people that run it are some of the nicest folk I’ve ever met and they’ve been at it since I first discovered the race 11 years ago. I’ve done lots of races of various types and this one is in a class of its own.

The only problem is that IT IS A RUNNING RACE. Meaning no bicycles, no wheels, no gliding. I felt so confused. During signups you have to predict your time. At the end of the day the person that is closest to predicting their time wins some free entries. I thought I was hot stuff, so I said 21:30, thinking that 7 minute miles didn’t sound too bad. After that I “warmed up” by running approximately 300 meters. My calves were super tight after that little jaunt. 7 minute miles suddenly seemed like a heck of a goal. Also checked out my racer history (which they keep on index cards in shoe boxes, awesome) and I’ve run 24 minutes like 20 times there. Somehow I remembered myself being a faster runner than that. Might explain why I can’t climb on a bike.

Obviously I needed to line up near the front so I could get a good start. You know, because I’m a serious runner and all and I need to get a good time. I thought I was being modest by putting myself in the third row. Brother Todd went on the front row but he’s actually a real runner.

I assume the position like I’m about to run a 800m or something and wait for the starter to shout GO. He says go, and I react as quickly as possible.

2 seconds later I’m in second place, and the only person in front of me is my brother. What the heck! It’s like no one else was even trying to go fast. Come on people! Don’t you want the holeshot?!

Todd got a gap of 10m before we made the turn 100m in. I was so confused. It didn’t FEEL like we were running fast and I felt like I was holding back tremendously. We go down a little hill and I try to settle in around 5^th place or so. Doesn’t feel so bad. Then we do some flats. OK, that’s a little fast, so I back off just a hair and fall back to 10^th place. No big deal.

Then we go up a steep hill. Of course I crush it because I’m a roadie and all. Recovering is what I do! At the top of the hill I think OGM WHERE ARE MY WHEELS HOW DO I COAST.

People start passing me. Lots of them. My legs hurt but that’s the least of my worries. I get that lactic acid feeling all through my body. Even in my arms and back. I cross the first mile marker in 6:30 which is roughly a 20 minute 5k pace.

I start doing highly complex mental math. It feels like rocket science stuff but that’s just because my brain has 2% oxygen. I figure that I’ve run exactly 1 mile so far in 2010, and I just did that 1 mile about 10 seconds ago. Miles 2 and 3 for 2010 are coming right up! Oh boy!

By the half way point I feel like death. My stomach is cramped, I can’t expand my lunges, my arms are heavy, and I’m pretty sure my stride is half the length of what it was in the first mile. My legs felt like they were shriveling up like raisins.

Brother Shawn passes me soon after. I figured he would run 22:30 so that means I’m already a minute off pace. How did I go from being 30 seconds ahead of pace to 1 minute behind pace in half a mile?!

Shawn is not your classic tiny runner type, so I catch his wheel to do some sweet DRAFTING. Oh wait, right, running, no wheels. But I did read in a book once that runners draft each other. Obviously this is the solution to all my problems and my day will soon be salvaged.

Yeah right.

I dig a little deep trying to stay with him and get right back into the red zone. All of the sudden I’m reminded of this WALL just after the 2 mile mark. The wall is OK but it nearly kills me to keep going. Couldn’t breathe to save my life.

The last mile felt like I was dropped on App Gap and overtaken by the juniors field and then the women’s field. It was like I wasn’t moving and everyone else was all fresh and happy and going by me like Contador. What the heck! I hate running!

So because my brothers finished in front of me that gave them the right to heckle me on the last 200m run into the finish. A well deserved benefit of finishing in front of someone. Shawn yells SPRINT SPRINT HE’S RIGHT BEHIND YOU. Silly Shawn, obviously I checked behind me six hundred times before the finish stretch so I could make sure that I could jog in as slowly as possible.

I finish in just about 24 minutes even. +2:30 from my prediction. Ouch. This is where I say running is so stupid. I could blame it on my legs and back hurting, my legs felt torn apart too. Like, I could barely walk around after. My muscles had that horrible ripped apart feeling that you only get when you’re super out of shape. Apparently cycling doesn’t help running muscles at all.

Today I’m so sore that I still can’t walk normally. What the heck?! 24 minutes is only like 36 TSS, that should be no sweat! Somehow riding my bike in this morning felt sort of OK, so maybe I will try and ride still tonight.

That was a real shock to find out just how specific my training has gotten. I still can’t run any faster than before. I’ll have to think twice before I do anything stupid involving running again. I'd have to say annual “Remind Me Why I Don’t Run” day was a huge success.

Post-race at Wings was awesome because the wings are awesome and so are these:

Charlie Baker Time Trial, 6/3

I’m on a rest week here after Killington and the only intensity I have planned was the CBTT. Only 4 more weeks until Fitchburg, so might as well work on the TT position. Hopefully 2 TT workouts per week until then will have me dialed in.

Based on my recent results and power, I think my position has some sort of magical aeroness to it. I would not expect 3.5 W/kg LT efforts to yield very good results for a cat3, but somehow they’re not bad. This has me almost a little afraid to make any big adjustments, even though I haven’t even had this bike on a trainer even once to do a proper fitting.

That being said I did lower my saddle by ~0.75cm for last night. At KSR the saddle height was set based on the assumption that I’d be doing most of my pedaling on the nose of the saddle. If I pushed back on the seat the saddle height was obviously too high. It irritated me feeling locked into that one position. I think this is just a sign that I need to spend more time on the bike.

This week I once again targeted 285W for average power. I checked the PT computer several times in the first few minutes to make sure I wasn’t going too hard, but went by feel after the 5 minute mark. How is it that 300W feels so easy early on and so hard at the end?

Not one mile into the course I see Dave Chiu doing a 180 up the road. He said he was doing tempo intervals tonight and not racing. Sure enough, I pass him and suddenly I have someone sucking my wheel for the next 20 minutes… sweet! At first I thought, is he on my wheel? I can’t tell… That soon changed to: must… keep… pedaling… hard…. And as the pain built and built it progressed to: must drop this joker on the next hill! Dave, next time you need to bring a flip camera or something so my readers can have a youtube clip of my backside to watch for 20 minutes.

I finished in 23:08 officially, with 270W AP and 279W NP. My estimated time at standard weather conditions is 22:55, which is actually faster than last week’s 22:58. If you could deal with the heat last week, the low air density and favorable wind conditions sure made it fast.

Obviously the higher NP (and AP) should result in a faster time, but 3 seconds faster doesn’t seem like much. My estimated CdA last week was 0.228 (236W to go 40 kph) which is pretty darn slippery for someone 6’1” 74kg on a relatively low budget. This week it seemed to have slipped slightly to 0.235 (243W to go 40 kph). This could be due to my handlebars not slipping during the race, which lowered my forearms but also my elbows and shoulders. It could also be due to my slightly lower saddle position, which opened up my chest slightly. There really wasn’t anything about this week’s position that would have been faster, other than maybe a conscious effort to keep my head in the right position, so this isn’t totally unexpected.

By not looking at the power meter I was a lot more variable in my output. As you can see in Figure 1, even early on I was resting on downhills at 200W while punching the uphills at closer to 350W. The slope of the trend line in Figure 3 is 1472 which is a lot higher than the typical 1000-1200 values I usually see. Was it faster? I’m not sure. It did make my VI (NP ÷ AP) a lot higher than I usually see in a TT. VI is also affected by poor pacing, but this week appeared to be pretty typical in that respect. Maybe I need to start making a number to quantify this.

I thought that the lower saddle position felt a lot more comfortable, so I was disappointed when I finished and saw the AP only at 270W. I thought it would be closer to 280W, especially with Nacho drafting and heckling me (with his MIND, he didn't actually say anything) the entire time. The one other factor I haven’t mentioned, because it’s borderline inappropriate, is the lack of skin on my saddle area. I also ran out of chamois cream tonight, so that was an area of extreme discomfort. Maybe I’ll get some magical watts when that heals.

Killington Stage Race

Memorial Day weekend has come and gone which means the New England stage races are upon us. Killington Stage Race is back on the calendar for the first time in years and in 2010 was the first of several high quality stage races.

This year’s cat3 edition was made up of 3 stages in 3 days, including what I would consider to be a moderately hilly 72 mile circuit race, a slightly uphill point-to-point 17 km time trial, and a 61 mile queen stage with 2 major climbs. Absent from the race was a criterium.

In addition to the general classification competition were sprint and KOM competitions. 30 sprint points were up for grabs on Stage 1 and only 6 on Stage 3. For the KOM, 20 points were available on Stage 1 and 32 on Stage 3. No points were available in the time trial.

There were not a lot of big teams in the cat3’s. Onion River Racing had 4 and was the only team with more than 3 racers. NEBC was lucky to field 2, with Keith having to deal with all sorts of moving issues the week of the race. Exhausted and off his game, he showed up ready to race. I was pumped to have a teammate.

Stage 1 – Circuit Race

Four laps, 18 miles per lap, and one KOM and one Sprint on each lap. I wasn’t at all familiar with the course and was a little worried about how serious the KOM hill would be. The GMSR circuit race climbs have historically given me trouble, but I’m also climbing a lot better these days. I didn’t need to be strong up the hill and at the front over the KOM, just strong enough to be able to stay attached after thrashing my legs in the sprint every lap.

For some reason I thought there was no chance of rain this weekend and brought no rain gear and very little cold weather gear. It was pouring at the start. Sort of like Quabbin the course was downhill for the first several minutes and with no warmers or rain gear I was freezing until the first time up the KOM hill.

On the first lap I stayed near the front so I could sag climb the KOM hill if necessary. It wasn’t necessary. The climb was pretty long but I don’t there was anything above 4% or 5% on the way up. There were also several flat or even short downhill sections for recovery. Only a huge effort on the front or a complete betrayal of the legs would have put me into difficulty. In fact, on the first lap I think I even had the legs to go after the KOM points. That was a first.

A 4-man break went clear at the KOM. I descended the steep hill and made the 90 degree turn on the front of the field, so I thought I would attempt a bridge effort. We were just going after sprinter’s points and it was very early in the stage race, so I thought maybe the field would let us go. They didn’t, and we were brought back quickly.

The 4-man break wasn’t too far up, certainly within sight, but we weren’t bringing them back. There was a section after the KOM hill that was surprisingly tiring. Every lap I would start feeling tired and couldn’t understand why. It didn’t seem like we were going up anything steep. I think this may have discouraged a serious chase.

The run in to the finish line/ sprinter’s line was a long downhill followed by a 400 meter perfectly straight section of road. We were descending at around 45 mph so a big gear was necessary for the sprint. My 53 x 11 was fine, but if we were going any faster or if I had one less gear it would have been a lot harder. The tech manual recommended a 55x11 “if you are a sprinter going for the win.” I’m beginning to think gearing recommendations are more for the fastest fields than for the slower fields.

So we approach the sprinter’s line on lap one and I’m watching the signs carefully. The 5 km sign passes and soon after the 3 km sign passes. I’m crunching numbers in my head as we go, thinking 60 kph is 1 km per minute, we’re going faster than that, so 500m to go is less than 30 seconds out.

We come around the corner just after the 500m to go sign, and I get my first glimpse of the finishing straight. 400 meters sure looks like a long way to go on a dead straight road. I was sitting second wheel and wasn’t under any difficulty, so I rode off to the side of the person in front of me to give myself a clear line. With 4 people up the road there was only 1 spot left for points, and I didn’t want to make a super long sprint if I didn’t have to.

Danny Habig (Luzzo’s) jumped hard from about 300m and really caught me off guard. I hesitated too long and got gapped. I did catch him right at the line but there wasn’t enough road to come around. The finish line seemed to be several meters in front of the officials stand, so that threw off my perspective a bit. Second in the bunch sprint meant 6^th across the line, so no points on lap 1. At the time I wasn’t sure if the break was 3 or 4, so I thought we might have been sprinting for 4^th and 5^th.

Lap 2 was much more of the same as lap 1, except this time I didn’t fight as much to stay at the front over the KOM. I sat in, ate some food, and waited for the KOM to pass. As I started moving to the front I realized that the break was hovering out there still and we weren’t doing much to bring them back. A few people took some pulls, and some others attacked, but we were making very little progress. One guy did drop out of the break and verified that there were only 3 left in it.

Somewhere before the final descent I lost my good position and was 20 wheels back. I was a bit panicked and didn’t think I’d be able to find the front before the sprint. Luckily a gigantic space opened on a right hand turn in the breakdown lane as racers drifted towards the outside of the turn. I moved right on up to second wheel by the time we hit 500m to go.

Again, I was sitting to the side of the wheel in front of me ready to jump as the finish came in to view. My teammate Keith jumped with ~350m to go. I was ready for someone to jump on the early side, similar to the first lap, and I was able to get on his wheel. Knowing that I had his wheel, he led me out all the way to the finish and we went 1-2 out of the bunch, so 4-5 for the sprint.

On lap 3 we went a bit harder and caught the break before the KOM. I think I must’ve been getting a little tired because I found myself floating towards the back. I also lost a lot of positions going slowly through feed zone looking for Erica, then nearly crashing with Aaron who was trying to take his feed. I got forced behind the feeders and was lucky not to hit anyone. I got my feed from Erica but was gapped by 100 or 200 meters by the end of the feed zone. Aaron and I made a short hard chase and caught back on by the steep descent.

Needless to say I was way out of position for the sprint. I moved up like crazy from about 5k out, and once again was able to move up huge amounts of positions on the downhill right hand turn about 1k out. I was about 10 people back coming around the final turn with 500 meters to go. Once again the inside of the turn was clear and I pushed through IN THE BREAKDOWN LANE until I was second wheel, right on Gary Aspnes’ (Horst) wheel.

We were sprinting for max points this time, and with 200m I took what I saw to be a lane on the yellow line. I had great acceleration, and I thought I had the points, but as I came around I think a gust of wind or something forced us all just a little to the left. For me, this meant I crossed the yellow line by about 2 feet, and right in front of the official’s stand. Not wanting a penalty, I sat up and hit the brakes so that I could move back behind Gary, within the yellow line, and back into 3^rd place.

Ever sit up and brake mid-sprint when you’re overtaking first place? It sucks and it takes a lot of discipline. You do it because you’re aware of what’s going on, aware of the rules, and because you want to race within the rules. Given the situation, I thought I did the right thing and I still think so. Despite my multiple protests, the officials did not agree and decided to give me not only the 30 second GC penalty but remove me from the sprinter’s competition altogether as well.

Ultimately these penalties would make little difference on my result. However, this was my first time ever protesting anything with US Cycling, and I am really disappointed about how that process works. After a conversation that lasted over 20 minutes, the conclusion was that the penalty would stand because I advanced 10 positions and deliberately crossed the line, even if I did sit up and concede the sprint. This isn’t at all true, and I just can’t believe that I wasn’t even allowed to speak to an official with decision-making capability when I was being hit with a penalty that would hurt me in both the GC and sprinter’s competition.

Anyways, that’s a bit of a side story and there was still a race on hand. We were gruppo compacto on the fourth and final lap and it was lining up to be a bunch sprint. The pace up the KOM hill was stiff on the last lap and if you were tired or cramping it would be easy to fall behind. I was feeling small signs of cramping in my right ankle of all places, so I was trying to stretch that out. Otherwise I felt good and snappy and was loving my odds in the sprint.

Coming around the 90 degree turn after the fast descent we stretched out single file and the pace was nuts. I was probably under more pressure here than at any other place during the race. To move up during this chaos would surely have been a maximal effort for me. In hindsight, not doing so cost me my chances at a good finish.

When we reached the downhill we bunched up as tight as I’ve ever seen. Nobody was under pressure and everybody wanted to be at the front. Without any large team presence to set up a fast leadout train we remained bunched up for the entire descent. I eventually worked up to about 25^th wheel on the inside when a cross of the wheels brought about 4 riders down including Matt D’Alessio (Threshold) and Gary Aspnes (Horst). I was just to the inside of this and eased up a bit as racers demonstrated their maneuvering skills to avoid the crash.

A bunch of 15 or so went clear in front of the crash. I sprinted to catch up with them but there was no fighting for position beyond that. The road was still packed from side to side and there was nowhere to go. It sure is frustrating ending a 72 mile race with a sub maximal effort. In hindsight my mistake was not moving up more when we stretched out single file, or maybe during the KOM climb.

Guido Wollmann (the happy German) took the win in a very uncharacteristic sprint victory. Either he is just really good at being aero or he has more sprint power than he gives himself credit for. Big congrats to him.

I finished 19/73 in 2:53:03.

Stage 2 – Time Trial

The stage 1 road race was a very important race to me since very few road races having flat finishes. Since I was no longer in the sprinter’s competition I just wanted to see how well I could do on the GC. I had no teammate to work for, so the plan was just to sit and see where I’d end up.

I didn’t feel very well prepared for the time trial. In previous seasons I’ve spent hours and hours trying to dial in my position and test what feels good. I didn’t do any of that this year, although I think I did benefit from the previous years’ experience. Prior to Sunday’s stage 2 time trial I’d spent just about exactly 1 hour total in 2010 on my time trial bike.

Fortunately for me, that 1 hour of TT bike time was surprisingly successful. I started off at a place beyond where I’d left off in 2009. At the CBTT, just 3 days before KSR, I PR’d by 50 seconds with a 22:48 (25.7 mph) time. That PR effort included mechanical issues and all sorts of bike comfort issues that resulted in terrible average power. The good news was that I am way more aero on my new bike than I’ve ever been before.

The KSR TT is 17 km of very gradual uphill grade and includes a few moderate kickers. This year we were also treated to a headwind of 18 mph according to weather.com. I figured that between the wind and gentle gradient aeroness would trump power output. I could have raised my handlebars to increase my power output, but I didn’t want to risk losing my sweet aeroness from Wednesday’s CBTT.

My plan was simple. Put the cruise control on modest TT target of 285W (3.85 W/kg) and keep it steady all the way. There were just a handful of places that I would go slightly harder or easier on, and I wanted to really go hard on the kicker just before turning off of Rt 4. I was expecting it to be a 27-28 minute effort, and I really didn’t want to blow up after 15 minutes.

I could have fallen asleep in the first bit of this race. Almost nothing happened, at all. I did pass my teammate, but I knew he didn’t have much aero gear or ambition for the TT. Other than that I just stared at that white line that brought me towards the finish.

Sean Smith (Champion System Racing) passed me on the rollers just before the gondola station going into the stiff headwind. He had no aero gear. None. I think he even had box rims. I was maintaining good power output at this point too. For a minute or two I tried to catch him, but I got incredibly frustrated when I realized that I could not.

The long, straight grind after the gondola station was brutal. I was so uncomfortable that I came out of the aero bars for a brief period. Realizing how much slower I was going, that didn’t last long. My power output dropped below 250W for a 5 minute period along this point. I was also getting blown all over the road. Luckily no one was trying to pass me. I passed another rider without aero gear just before the kicker.

Ken and Erica were at the kicker to cheer me on and they couldn’t have picked a better place. Ken sprinted alongside me like it was le tour and when I got to the turn I realized I was doing over 500W. Granted the effort nearly killed me and I needed to completely stop pedaling for a few seconds on the following downhill, but that was absolutely awesome!

The twisty final section running into the finish wasn’t nearly as cool as I expected. I’d envisioned myself flying around the turns at over 30 mph with laser-like precision, but instead I struggled to hold 25 mph as I weaved all over the road. Falling apart, I was doing short little bursts of 400W over the rollers while suffering at 200W in between. I crossed the line a broken man and expected a terrible result.

My finishing time was 28:27.86, 2:36 down, which was good enough for 32/69. My average for the effort was a measly 270W (3.65 W/kg) with decent pacing. That sounds terrible to me and I can hardly believe it put me in the top half on my field. Once again, whatever setup I’m on right now seems to be very aerodynamic. I’m going to have to start testing more upright/powerful positions.

TT bike efforts hurt in a bad way when you’re not used to the position. You can’t go any harder and it feels like you’re only using a fraction of your legs muscles. I get done and my legs feel fine. Other people are talking about their muscles feeling torn or something. I just don’t get that on the TT bike despite feeling like absolute death while I’m racing.

Stage 3 – Road Race

This stage is the reason we drive to Vermont to race bikes. 61 miles isn’t anything unusual for a cat3 race, but when you throw in two ~1,000 vertical feet climbs that are ~15 minute efforts you’ve got something special for New England. The climbers were licking their chops.

I’ve done way more climbing this year than ever before and I wanted to see how I’d stack up against the best 3’s in New England. My expectations were still low as I’ve been training climbs to survive the hills, not to excel at them. Also, these climbs are way longer than the punchy 5 minute climbs I do around Boston. I didn’t know how I’d hold up.

The first 25 miles were rolling gradual downhill and I did nothing but conserve. I think Leo (Threshold) was up front for an awfully long time keeping the pace high likely to discourage attacks. They were defending the KOM jersey for Devin.

Actually, I did more than just conserve in those first 25 miles. I avoided potholes. That road was like trying to cross a minefield. I really didn’t want to flat and I really didn’t want to wreck my good carbon wheels. I think I only cracked one pothole hard the entire time. Luckily there was no damage. It was also tough to eat in the meantime and I dropped a Cliff bar.

A small break went up the road shortly before the sprinter’s line. The guy wearing the sprinter’s jersey was too far back and missed it. I think Guido ended up third in the sprint and taking the jersey, but somehow he crashed right on the line. Not sure what happened there but he finished out the race.

I wanted to be in good position for the first climb so I could stay with the group and ride a steady pace. Somehow I ended up being the first guy to hit the climb and set the pace. Not sure how that happened. I think I was a little flustered/excited at the time and despite starting off at what felt like an easy pace, I’m sure it was way too hard for me.

It took a while for anyone to come around me and I tried to stay in the middle of the road to slow down the pace as much as I could. Slowly and surely more and more riders came around me, and they continued to get bigger and bigger. The road was just started to get a little less steep when I got dropped, but I was deep into the red at that point. I was in a small group of 3 initially, and I could see another group of 3 not far up, just behind the peloton.

The majority of the climb really isn’t too bad, it’s just that initial wall that’s the killer. Once we got gapped, the lead group of ~25 or so put all sorts of time into us. There was probably a good drafting benefit to be had along here.

Our chase group caught the chase group in front of us just after the KOM. We started pacelining, but a fast descent and sharp left turn broke that up. A large chase group of 10 or 12 caught us on the climb up the feed zone and we were now a chase group of 20. I got a good feed from Erica as always in the feed zone.

This 20-man chase group was amazingly cooperative. All things considered, we rotated smoothly for miles and miles. We even kept a decent pace through the uneventful dirt section and reorganized when we hit the pavement. We were rewarded by catching the peloton at about mile 45.

Once we rejoined our group was probably 50 people or so. I heard someone say there were 2 people about 1.5 minutes up when we rejoined the main field. I’m not sure, but I don’t think we caught them before the base of the final climb and it’s possible no one ever did. I was just happy to be back in the main field as it was a huge break for the legs. Not that a 20 man paceline is overly taxing.

We hit the base of the final climb in what felt like no time. Suffering over the long first climb and chasing made time fly.

Our group exploded on the lowest parts of the climb. I was dropped quickly from the middle of the pack along with several others as I was unwilling to go above threshold.

Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the raw skin on my thighs, or maybe I just need to train on longer climbs, but I never got into a very good groove. I just couldn’t find the right spot to start cranking away in. I ended up losing 7.5 minutes to the eventual winner, but he also had 2 minutes over 3^rd place so I think he might have been in that breakaway. Still, I lost a solid 5 minutes on this climb and I thought I’d be able to do just a bit better than that. Oh well.

I finished the day 45/67 which isn’t too good considering how many people had flats or had other goals. At least I made it though, this really isn’t a strength of mine. I finished the race 40^th on the GC, so pretty much mid field.

Summary

Despite my little dispute with the officials, this race was awesome and I had a ton of fun. I would have liked to have a little more to show for it as I felt like I was on really good form, but that’s OK. There are a lot of good races on the horizon. I’ll leave you with some of the behind the scene highlights from the weekend:

· A jam-packed car ride there http://tweetphoto.com/24410918

· Threshold Cycling’s hot tub time machine http://yfrog.com/2pt85ej

· Race/wash repeat http://twitgoo.com/xq5tv

· Tim wins another TT http://twitgoo.com/xu73r

· 545 AM wakeup call for stage 3

· Post-race @ Long Trail http://twitgoo.com/xwqxe

· Dave’s phenomenal packing efficiency http://twitgoo.com/xwnyo