The road back and my first 1/2/3 race

First of all, I haven't posted since Millersburg. I was riding and training well all the way through December and was hanging nicely in the 300W FTP range without having done a single VO2 interval when I decided to expand my business. There are some things that simply take priority in life and my family's future is first. Period. Guess what that meant? Yep, riding pretty much died to zero for a few months and got replaced by countless consecutive days that lasted until 2AM. Intervals and long rides quickly got replaced with managing the books, taxes, employees, clients, proposals, payroll, blah b'blah b'blah.

Fast forward three months and I had things largely under control. I started riding little by little again hoping that saying about "it" coming back fast when you have miles in your legs is true. Sure enough, it is. All the tempo riding I did in late fall/early winter paid off. Started with a couple long rides before starting in with the group rides. I had zero idea how well I'd be able to hang so I set my expectations low. Started with the Herndon 3 ride with plans to sit in. No issue and had a good time. Realized how much I missed it. Did the Reston 2 ride the following Tuesday. Felt a bit harder but still fine. The Herndon 2 ride, Wakefield B ride, Herndon 1 ride, then Wakefield A ride. Each time, things felt a bit snappier.

Problem. Weight. I've always had an issue with my diet. I love food. I love to cook. I love Belgian Ales. I mean true love. That said, I've never had an issue losing it when I get focused. I think I have the Paleo Diet down pat and know how to shed the pounds. I lost 15lbs last fall on the plan while riding steadily. I know what to do. During my little business hiatus, I gained 15 back. But this time, I don't seem to be losing it and I'm freaking out. I haven't quite gone whole-hog hardcore on Paleo but I'm riding regularly and managing my intake. Not losing anything. WTF? I guess it's age getting the better of me. Probably time to get more extreme if I want to have any shot at all of doing well at Millersburg.

So, being back in the saddle, I thought I'd give racing a shot again. I wanted to start moderately so I chose the 35+ 3/4 at Ft. Ritchie. Goal: finish. I looked at the pre-reged riders and noticed there were a few good'ns (Gutzeit, Rist, Underwood, Bickling to name a few) so I knew the pace wouldn't be pedestrian. And I love that course too so I thought it'd be a good test, but not over the top. If I do OK there, I'll try another, then another. Etc. There were four other teammates in the race but I warned them up front that, based on my mid-winter break, I wasn't there to participate in tactics so they shouldn't count on me. They were fine with that. To keep that long story short, I did just fine. Ended up lucky 13th. I felt encouraged that I could actually take as much time off as I did and still race that same season.

So, I kept up with the training for the most part, mostly in the form of group rides. I'm working with Jim Weinstein again who will no doubt smooth out my rough edges. I decided that, if working the RSR didn't get to hectic, I'd give the 1/2/3 there a go. Since I train there all the time - and is my "home course", I decided it'd be a safe environment to give that a try. It would be my next test. 30 miles at 1/2/3 pace.

Fast forward to race day. At the course at 0600, working in the sun, had to bail for a few hours to attend my own son's birthday party (who turned 8 the day before), returned to hear about a very nasty crash with injuries, and I'm now one nervous pup. Tired. Drained. Skeptical. HTFU says coach. Fine. Grab a decent warmup and take to the line. Felt much better when Pete Warner, Pete Custer, Andrew Shelby, Nicholas Taylor, and some others all pulled up around me. It's still racin' with my peeps...just a bit faster. Goal: finish....again.

Then the officials scroll the lap card to read 48. Ugh. Dat be a lot of laps. Whistle. Decent clip-in. Round and round we went (most literally). There really isn't much to report about the race itself. At some point Pete Custer said "you dizzy yet?" It did seem like we were in a constant right bank. The main excitement in the race, given that I had no desire nor intention of being near the front, was the two crashes. I missed each of them by centimeters. The second one was with 1 1/2 laps to go and gave me a helluva time catching back on. But I found a wheel and we did what we could for the last kilo. Not even sure where I rolled through but was happy to simply have finished. My Garmin told me we averaged 28.3mph for 30.5 miles. By far the fastest race I've ever done, but it certainly wasn't the hardest so I was pleased.

Here's a picture to commemorate the occasion thanks to Nicholas Taylor's wife.

Next up is Clarendon and Crystal City. Clarendon will be crazy fast as always. Hoping to actually do well at Crystal.

Ciao!!

Race Report: Tour de Millersburg

Overall:

The Tour of Millersburg is a first-class event. The town essentially comes together as an entire community to put this on. And, what I mean is, it's not just one club putting it on, it's the entire freaking town. The businesses, the residents, everything. Amazing. Though I stayed in a hotel, next year I'll probably stay with a host family to fully experience the hospitality. Rusty and Chris were definitely lucky. Nicholas, Andrew, and I stayed at the 5-star Red Carpet Inn in Duncannon PA, right across the river from Millersburg (meaning we had to travel south to get to the bridge then back north again to the town.) Never again. Anyway...

Our goal was simple: get Pete Warner the win. As you might imagine, this strategy relies quite a bit on Pete himself (especially for the TT) but, as the team proved, it can be solidified by selfless participation. As usual, none are more selfless than WWVC Racing. We acted as a team, we won as a team. The result was a win for WWVC Racing as well as the necessary upgrade points for Pete to head to cat 2. On a personal note, the pride I feel as team President is enough to make me scream from rooftops.

Time Trial:

My goal was to go slow. I was SUPPOSED to conserve for the crit. I screwed that up huge. My original plan was to give the TT a go so, a while ago, I started planning for that to include "borrowing" a TT bike and decking it and myself out. Kevin from Blue hooked me up with a T16 and I bought some Wheelbuilder covers for my rear 404. I trained on the T16 for the past month and already noticed an improvement. The course was to be just under 10 miles of dead flat which definitely suits my body style (trying not to say fat.) But, once we got up there and talked, it made more sense to conserve to support Pete in the crit. Alas, since I had the gear, I decided to use the TT as an "opener" for the crit instead of just tootle along. The inital 300 meters is a sharp downhill which really gets you going. Upon flattening out, I looked down and was doing 32mph. It. Felt. Awesome. I couldn't stop. My position felt so comfortable that I just kept going. My HR was soon at my LTHR (no power data) and I felt good. I backed it off half a notch to come just under LTHR because I knew I had to conserve something. I caught my 30-second man at the turn-around. This got me pumping even more. Doing a TT was so out of my element and I was having so much fun that I was ignoring my purpose. Turns out it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway as you'll see in my crit report. Anyhow, shortly thereafter, I caught my one minute man who was either conserving for the crit, or just having a really bad TT. At that point, I backed off another notch to be sure I was in high tempo, not LT. At the finish, I got out of the saddle to climb the little rise and rolled through at 22:23. That's about a 25.8mph average which was good enough for 31st out of 97 dudes. This was good and bad. Good because I'm now psyched to add TTing to my game and have load of room for improvement. Bad because 1) to be effective for this race, I should've gone much slower to save energy for Pete and 2) if I was going to go fast, I should've just gone for it to see how high I could get. Oh well.

Crit:

The course looked like it was going to be pretty epic. They toned down the hill from last year by running the course clockwise. But, that still meant there'd be a fairly long hill each lap. The finish was a screaming downhill. Faaaaast. With almost 100 guys lining up, everyone knew it'd be a nail biter for the first 15 minutes. Yup. We all got really good warmups. Some in the tent (which was beautifully setup right on the crit course near the start/finish) and some on the road. Everyone staged really early because we all knew a good position was paramount to success. They had call-ups for the top ten dudes then everyone filled in the gaps behind them. Most of use were 2nd and 3rd row. At the start, it was gangbusters. But once we made the second turn and started up the hill, it seemed rather manageable. By the third lap, I realized that, while it didn't look like we were flying and people were working, we really were and my legs were on fire. Little by little I was sliding back on the climb, each time making up my ground on the downhill where most were conserving. I used it (and my weight) to regain position. Problem was, I wouldn't make up all of my ground and the math eventually caught up with me. By 15 minutes into the 45 or so of the race, I came off the back and was too far to make it up on the downhill. Horrible feeling. But, OK, I know my role, so rather than TT it, I shut it down and recovered so I'd be effective for the RR. Since self-selection would mean I couldn't do the road race, I simple rode around waiting to get pulled by the official. I had one or two guys in view most of that time. A lap later, an entire second peleton caught me. Somewhere in the first two laps, a third of the field had been dropped and it took an entire lap of me spinning in the little ring for them to catch where I was! Damn. So, instinctively, I fed back in and sat in with them. It only took half a lap for me to realize that that was a mistake. So, I pulled off again. Good decision. A lap later, I got yanked. Two laps later, that group did. Then more. Then even more. 30 or so finished. I had the best front-row seat to watch Nicholas absolutely bury himself on the front coming through the bell with Pete on his wheel. It was teamwork at its best. One dude had broken away and had a huge lead but Nicholas ensured Pete would take the field sprint for 2nd. Pete was now well in the GC lead and wearing the yellow jersey.

Road Race:

We woke up to see it raining out. I had hoped it would stop. It really didn't. With us being tired, and the rain, and taking longer than expected to suit up, I essentially rolled straight to the line without a pedal stroke of warmup (with the exception of the four blocks between the car and line.) I've never done that before but, with the efforts the previous day, I hoped it would be OK. It was. The 1/2/3s rolled away and we waited forever for our start. Again, they did the call-ups. The team had memorized (or written on our arms) the bib numbers to watch. And watch we would. Ha, I still remember 131, 162, 179, 116, and 111. 162 was the crit winner and had an easily identifiable jersey, so I took it upon myself to keep an eye on him. Finally, off we went. The course is a rolling 18-mile loop. The first five to seven miles is mostly uphill with a very manageable gradient. Then it flattens out for a bit along some fantastic scenery, turns on to some chip-and-seal with more rollers, then on to a highway where the yellow line was enforced and it's mostly downhill back to the town. Fun. For much of the race, it poured rain but that helped me manage body temp very well.

The first lap amounted to not much more than a parade lap as far as I'm concerned. I think there were a few attacks but they were fruitless. Most everyone was getting the feel of the course and the rain. There was a bit of squirreliess but largely manageable. All five of we Pete-supporters were very present near the front and had our minds on the contenders. As a side note, riding a race where your job is to manage others vs. riding for yourself is a completely different experience and makes it so much fun. I felt such a sense of pride and team that it definitely helped me push through more painful moments. Coming back into town and through the feed zone, the speed rocketed up. The course started in the same place as the TT so that downhill helped add to the stretching of the rubberband. Lap 2 was more dynamic and a bit faster (it seemed). I decided to pick a number (the crit winner) and lock onto him the whole lap. I figured it would be easier while I was in pain to simplify life. I found him toward the back and got on his wheel and didn't come off. A few times, he'd slide to the outside and move toward the front. It sure looked like he was positioning for an attack but he never would. He'd eventually slide back. No matter, I had him. As we made our way toward town and the bell, I felt pretty good. I started to think about how I was going to play out the final miles and determined that, as a bigger guy with a decent FTP, I would try and keep the speed high coming down the highway and let one of the other guys lead Pete out through town toward the line. Once again, through town, the rubberband stretched....then snapped. There was a clear gap between us and the front group. I dug deep down the hill then up the shallow climb at the start of lap 3 to catch back on. Rusty and Chris passed me and I watched them reattach. Took me a minute more but I managed it too. Whew. Now it was a hard downpour. Not 2 minutes later, on a rather sharp bend in the road, 30 of my closest friends invited me to join them on the pavement. I knew it was coming. The crash spanned the road. It started on the right side, where a HUGE pile formed, and made its way to the left where I was one of the final guys to depart from my vertical orientation. I got lucky. Very lucky. I landed right on some dude and harmlessly rolled onto the pavement. I came way with a bump on the knee and what looks like a hicky on my hip (wait, maybe that is.....nevermind.) I was really nervous about my bike but after a brief inspection, I didn't see even a scratch. Later I would find tiny scratches on the derailleur, skewer, and handlebar cap and my front wheel is about 1mm out of true in one spot. That's it. My biggest disappointment - even above my not finishing - was seeing Nicholas at the bottom of the big pile clearly in a bit of pain. Oh F***. He said his knee hurt and his bike was in the middle of the biggest jigsaw puzzle of mangled bikes I had ever seen. At this point, there were tons of bleeding, cursing, angry, groaning dudes all over the place. Support was plentiful and immediate. Cops, EMT, race support. All of it. All in a downpour. Bike racing, how do you not love it? After a long while of assessing Nicholas and his bike, he resolved himself to having to take the van back so I joined another guy and we rode backwards on the course back to the line. A very disappointing finish.

Age-Graded Championships Race Report

Ciao piasani. Been a while since I've written. So I'll bring all-a yous up to speed. First things first, I got a new bike and I'm singin' the blues. Or should I say singin' with my Blue. I got the Blue AC1SL built up with DA 7900. I don't have any pics just yet but you can check the bike out from the manufacturer (except the pic shows it built with Red) here. I threw some DA pedals on it and a Garmin Edge 500 and the thing is still under 14 pounds. And it fits me so much better than the Cannondale I've been riding for forever that it really is a completely different experience. Loving it. Given the course of the Capital Criterium, I decided to wait and use the new bike for the first time in the age-graded champs up at Ft. Ritchie since I know the course so much better.

So I went up there to join three of my WWVC fratelli in the 35+ 3/4 race. My training has been a taste sporadic but I felt like I could win it. I knew the course well and knew where to make the moves, etc. I also knew however that the heat would be a determining factor. The heat always makes me lethargic and I always seem to have difficulty with cooling. So, we all decided to warm up on the road instead of the trainer figuring it'd be cooler that way. Good call, it was more manageable that way. Got in a decent warmup and managed to squeeze in a few laps on the course before taking to the line.

At the gun, it started pretty fast. Typical for a crit I guess. I put in an effort off the line to slot in at about seventh wheel in order to avoid any first lap gittery crashes. After a few laps, my teammate Pete Warner attacked. He and an Atlantic Fitness guy had been talking before the race and decided to go early since it was only a 45-minute race. So they went and drew out about five or six other guys over the course of a full lap or so. After they got a discernable enough gap, I went to the front to try and manage things a bit. I got there at exactly the same time as a Bike Doctor ragazzo. I confirmed with him that he had a rider in the break so we tried to shut the front down together.

Well, that didn't last long and I suspected the break just wasn't working very well together. It's a shame too, I think it could have survived and that Pete would've done well if not won it. Alas, the pack reeled in the break. After that, it wasn't really racing at all. A few little attacks went, we'd speed up and catch them, then we'd slow down and bunch up. I certainly have no room to talk since I was content to do next to nothing. The heat was getting the better of me and I was anything but dynamic. So round and round we went while the lap counter ticked down.

With two to go, the pace picked up nicely. I really thought that it would stay that way the rest of the time. It almost did. Of all places to slow down, it happened just before the second to last turn. Huh? That's when I made my mistake. The slowing allowed me to essentially coast past half the pack and get right on Pete's wheel. He wasn't exactly in the best position but he has so much power, he could easily have taken me to the last corner in the top five riders. All I had to do was yell to him to punch it. Call out. Something. Anything. But, there was nothing. As hot and tired as I was, I should've just had him deliver me to the last corner. Bo Lee once said to me (likely a quote from someone else) "Pain makes cowards of us all." So the only thing I said to Pete was "Watch out for a crash in the final turn". Don't even think he heard me. We swung through the final turn crashless but about 25 riders back. Game over. Todd Bickling was well on his way to crossing the line first and we were amidst the sprint fodder. Pete and I sprinted anyway and passed a bunch of people for a grand 14th and 15th respectively. At least Pete can say he attacked a bunch. I didn't do much so I didn't earn much. Fair enough.

Next up is Tour of Millersburg. I've only heard good things about this race so I'm really looking foward to it. Ciao!!

Ride Sally Ride Report

It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Today was a day filled with highs and lows. Thanks to a very organized race director (Michael Randers-Pehrson), the race was proceeding swimmingly. Registration was going well, the races were going well, people seemed happy. I was happy. The weather had been surprisingly good based on the forecast. Nick Taylor won the cat 4 race thereby keeping that title in the family for another year.

I got the green light from Michael to do the 35+ 3/4 race because we had plenty of team support to cover everything needing doing. Given the stress I generally experience during RSR - no, I'm not race director but being President weighs on me since it's our only public-facing event - I wasn't expecting too much. I did however note some of the important players in the field and wanted to keep an eye on them. Since I do most of my interval training at RSR, I know the corners very well and have taken them many many times at various speeds.

To my surprise, when the whistle blew, a group took off right off the bat. I wasn't overly concerned but, after a few laps, I asked my teammate Chris if he thought it had any teeth. He and agreed that it was unlikely that it would stay away. Sure enough, we caught it after maybe ten laps. Immediately a counter attack occurred. I gave it a bit then decided to give it a go so I bridged. I had to burn a match to get there. Once there, I realized that there was zero organization and we got gobbled up quickly. Crap. Wasted match. No sooner did we get caught then Guy Perotti went off the front, followed a few seconds later by Andreas (NCVC) and Gus (Gamjams). Hmmmm. Guy, NCVC, Gamjams. Then, Rt 1 went. Then Evo. OK, that's it. Almost all the major players and each a powerhouse. The rest of the Evo team, in association with the other Gamjams players, had already started to shut the front down. Yup, time to go.

By this time, Guy, Gus, and Andreas had a decent gap and I had work to do. All this after already burning a match. So, I came around the outside and buried myself. It took me half a lap (which, according to some of my teammates, was too fast) to get there. When I got there, I was hurting. Bad. Now, the problem with that is that I don't think correctly when I'm in the pain cave. As soon as I got there, Gus was yelling at everyone to work. The marine in him wanted to get organized to stay away and it was the right thing to do. But, for me, the right thing to do would have been to skip a few rotations and come back to earth a bit. In general, that's better for the group too since I'd be more effective though in this case it didn't matter.

But, trying to be a good soldier and thinking I'd hang in there without problem, I pulled through immediately. After three rotations, I was in real pain and, with 15 on the lap card, knew I couldn't sustain it. So I started skipping turns in the hopes of recovering. By this time, a few more guys had joined to seal the deal - ABRT, Bike Doctor, and All American (I think). A lap or two later, I found myself on the ABRT guy's wheel and he got gapped but I wasn't paying attention. When I looked up finally, I realized I had a mini-bridge to do. I did it but spent the last match in my book. I held on for a bit more and that was all she wrote. They rode away and I sat up and waited for the pack. I was hugely disappointed. So many woulda-coulda-shouldas going through my mind. Oh well.

So with legs spent, I silently slipped back into the peleton and rode the race comfortably in the middle, which was overly easy. Everyone knew we were racing for something like 8th. Round and round we went until we were done. Lots of lessons learned there. This sprinter needs more experience in a break situation.

On a high note, the kids race went really well. We had more kids than ever and it's always a great thing for the parents to watch their kids go round the course for a lap. Tons of thanks to Autism Outreach for sponsoring and giving the kids medals again.

And then, during the cat 3 race, mother nature showed up. And she was mad. Furious. All in the course of a few minutes, the winds were ferocious and the rain absolutely poured. Then the lightning came. It was close. Too close. Everyone held on to tents so they wouldn't blow away. The officials finally decided to pull the cat 3s off the course. Then, shortly thereafter, they canceled the rest of the races for the day. I'm not sure I would have rushed to that decision but it was their call and I support it.

Before long, everyone was outta there. The team did a great job packing and cleaning. At the end of it all, Michael, myself, and a kitted-up Pete Custer sat there in the parking lot, eating some sandwiches, exchanging a few laughs, and just chillin'. It was very cool. Little by little the weather went from rainy, to overcast, to clear, to gorgeous. Damn it. Oh well.

Da Numbas wants to thank all who came out and also to apologize for the turn of events. Michael will be sending out a note soon on the official word on the next steps. Ciao.

Ft. Ritchie Race Report

It's funny how a race can change so quickly. Normally, technical crits are my bag. I pride myself on being a good bike handler and at cornering well. Of course, none of that matters if you make dumb mistakes. And Saturday was the day of dumb mistakes for me.

The day started out OK enough. The cat 3 race was at 1:30 which gave me time to wake up leisurely, feed my face, pack the car, and head on up to the course. I parked in the upper lot per the promoter suggestion but found I was only among a few that took the advice. But, that gave me a nice view of the course while I warmed up on the trainer. I got in a good warmup, which I always try and do for crits. These old bones need to be worked a bit before the start lest I be suffering during the first few laps and risk being popped and dropped.

Rode the course for a few laps before lining up and realized that the wind was going to be a factor. But, stupid me, I didn't think about what that meant in terms of how I'd play the race. Mistake #1. I didn't get to line up with a wheel on the line but I put myself in a position that, with a decent clip-in, I'd be up far enough. Sure enough, at the whistle, I clipped in well and found myself maybe 10 riders back. Cool. The first few laps were fast but I felt VERY comfortable. So comfortable in fact, that I didn't worry at all about position. If a gap formed, I simply rode around the rider and filled it. Soon, I found myself toward the middle-back. Mistake #2. I witnessed some squirreliness here and there but, again, I had no concerns.

Then, after oh I don't know maybe six laps, an NCVC rider blew a tire while making the left onto the back straight (the kinda blowout that sounds like a gunshot) and he tumbled to the ground. Riders near him scattered left and right, some riding into the grass. Well, I and all the riders right behind him got caught in a position of having to brake hard before trying to accelerate. NO, I'm not blaming the crash. It was my fault for being so far back. But five to ten of us were caught out and fighting to catch back on. This is where the wind was a factor. No one could hold the anaerobic pace long enough to make a dent in the distance. We worked as a paceline for maybe half a lap before realizing we weren't gaining. We. Were. Dropped.

I rotated with those around me. After some shuffling, it was me, Eric Marshall from Evo, a Carytown guy, and (I think) Drew from NCVC. I blinked and Drew was gone. Not sure what happened to him. Then, the Carytown guy - with his $12000 bike setup - got impatient and TTed away. That left just me and Eric to work together. I think we managed four laps together, taking roughly one-lap pulls each. It was then pretty clear that the pack was going to absorb us. So I just kept a steady pace until they did. So I just slipped in the middle without much issue. I noticed there was 10 to go at this point. I figured I'd at least get my workout in. Rather than fighting for position, I let myself slip toward the back so as not to impede any of the competing riders. Once again, I had little trouble hanging with the bunch but was definitely annoyed that a couple of the guys back there were letting gaps open up. Is it really that tough to stay close to a wheel through turns? Anyway, the laps simply counted down and, after the last turn, I sat up, made sure I wasn't in anyone's way of sprinting, and rolled through the S/F with only one rider behind me (that I noticed).

Results show me 23rd. Not sure if that's right but I imagine it's close. I thought I read somewhere that there were about 44 starters so that puts me smack in the middle. Normally I'd just shrug off a middle-group result but I was really disappointed about being dropped and lapped. I keep trying to replay the crash in my head and determine what I coulda-shoulda-woulda done differently. Would sprinting have brought me back to the group? Was I still too far back? Did I really need to slow down for the crash as much as I did? Did I really dig deep enough when trying to get back? Was I relying too much on others? All hard to tell, especially given that the decisions were made while in pain.

I did (re)learn two valuable lessons. 1) In a technical crit, being in the front third of the group is key. It's not affected by the accordion very much and, if a mishap occurs, it's much easier to recover from there. Of course, you have to earn your spot there, but that's better than the alternative that I just experienced. 2) You have to rely on yourself to close gaps. If you're on the rivet, and you notice a gap forming in front of the rider or riders that are in front of you, you can't count on them to close it. You have to dig even deeper to get around it. Again, this is especially important in crits. You have to take notice of which riders are comfortable and efficient in the turns and which aren't.

Oh well, yet again a weekend passes and my bike racing leaves me wanting. Time to go fine-tune the anaerobic capacity. Ciao.

A Weekend of Ruined Races

This is a long report because I combine two race reports into one post. Deal with it, goombahs. Da Numbas writes for you!! :)

This weekend was a perfect example of how Murphy's Law applies to a peaking cyclist...and man is it frustrating. All those hours over the winter on the trainer in the garage or in the cold and rain on the road designed to put you in the best form possible for those spring races. It's amazing how the events of a few seconds can negate so much (yes, I've got my poopy pants on right now.) My coach has been expertly planning my taper and peak. I've executed on his plan and have enjoyed watching my ATL, CTL, and TSB curves respond appropriately putting my TSB squarely in the black for my first peak target of the year: May. So, first up was the MP Murad road race and the Bunny Hop criterium.

MP Murad: A Horse of a Different Color.

The forecast for the whole weekend was hot. Stupid hot. So I started my salt loading and hydrating on Thursday. I wasn't about to be unprepared for this one. 48 miles isn't exactly long, but it's enough that one needs to be prepared, especially when it's supposed to be hot. They weren't offering a straight-up 35+ race so I opted for the 35+ 3/4. As always, I arrived plenty early so I could perform the prep tasks as a reasonable pace. Check in, numbers pinned, back number repinned (ugh), trainer setup with bike, etc.

Located the teammates and we briefly talked strategy. Coppi, NCVC, and Evo all had some numbers so our primary tactic was to keep an eye on them in the first 3 laps and make sure nothing went up the road with all 3 without one of us too. After that, we'd turn more to the offensive and send Pete W, Chris G, then myself up the road.

First 2 laps were uneventful. I spent those two laps testing various lines, taking note of what others were doing, and, oh yeah, learning who the heck to stay away from. It's been a while since I've done a race with so many cat 4s in it and, no offense fellas, it was really noticeable. Put me a bit more on edge - perhaps because I was involved in a cat 4 crash there two years ago. Anyway, one thing I did notice is that I wasn't even close to being in the red. My fitness was clearly where I wanted it to be.

Laps 3 and 4 were spent doing some more aggressive testing. I responded to a few attacks, especially if one of the three big teams were initiating, and took note of how the field would respond, who looked strong, etc. The data kept pointing to a field sprint. Coming into lap 5, two guys (I think both NCVC) got off the front a bit. I had slid back a bit in the pack (maybe 2/3 back) and noticed Pete near the front. We still had a long way to go and I wasn't worried at all about moving around nor about the break...yet.

During that lap, on Sugarland Rd as we were passing one of the farms, a horse and rider came upon us. She was in the grass on our left riding in the opposite direction. The closer we got, the more the horse became agitated. This didn't surprise me as I recall the promoters at the Lancaster, PA races reminding us to do our best to refrain from free-wheeling if we pass a horse and buggy because free-wheeling sounds like bees to a horse and will spook it. But the closer I got, the more I could see that the horse was becoming more than just agitated. It finally started to rear up and its rider just grabbed on for dear life. Finally, the horse threw the rider and she tumbled ass over tea kettle straight to the ground on her head (she had a helmet on) and then got stepped on (or so it looked). The horse then took off and looked like it may just invade the peleton. It didn't. But it was pure chaos in the pack during those moments. Most of the peleton was slowing down to come to a stop. Many riders were yelling "STOP!!!" to everyone else ahead of them.

Seeing the woman laying there, I stopped. My teammate Michael stopped. A Coppi rider stopped. We ran to the woman to see if she was badly injured. She had some cuts on her face and arms. She passed the chicken wing test (collarbone) and her pupils were responsive so it seemed like she wasn't critical. The moto ref was now there and he was radioing in the situation. What a crazy happening!

After feeling confident that someone more qualified was on their way, I hopped back on the bike along with my teammate and the Coppi dude. No other riders were in sight. I figured either the "act of God" clause was being instituted or they were all gathering at the next turn. It was the latter....but I'd soon find out that it was the former as well. Once we got there, it was clear that it wasn't the entire field. It was maybe 40 dudes. The moto ref told us that the riders that didn't stop would be neutralized at the S/F and we'd be restarted and effectively have a one lap race. I'll be honest and say that a one lap 3/4 race didn't appeal to me in the least. Everyone would be fresh on a non-selective course. Can you say crash waiting to happen? Anyway, we rolled along at a very casual pace for all of Partnership, all of River, and the stretch on Hughes to the S/F. Seemed like forever. As we made the slight right to be in sight of the S/F....no one was there. The chief ref then stepped into the road and screamed "YOU'RE RACING!!! ONE TO GO!! ONE TO GO!! GO GO GO!!!" The group gave a collective moan. We knew we'd been screwed. They hadn't held up the leaders.

You could tell that everyone was disappointed. There were no brutal attacks. No redline efforts. Just a solid but steady effort for our last lap. I put myself about 5th or so wheel thinking there'd be an attack on the hill. Nope. We just climbed it steadily. We made the turn onto River and again, no attacks. I held my top ten position without any effort at all. I was expecting the swarm at any moment. Never happened. In fact, on one incline, I was going just downright slow and still no one came around. My teammate Michael was right there too so I slid on his wheel thinking maybe I'd get a leadout. But due to some shuffling, we came into the corner 2nd and 3rd wheel. Crap, too far up. Oh well, I didn't care too much. I mean, after all, we were racing for 57th place or whatever, right? So after the turn I told him to give me his best minute. At about 600 meters out, an Artemis guy took a flyer. So, I decided to chase (mistake #1) and stayed in the saddle applying steady but increasing power (mistake #2) thereby leading out the field. What am I, new? I knew better than to make either of those but, again, I didn't care. By the 200 meter mark, I was closing fast on the guy but still in the saddle. At about 150, I was pretty cooked but hopped out of the saddle and sprinted. At 100 or so meters guys started to come around me. Again, we were sprinting for billionth place so I shut it down, laughed a bit at my field leadout, and coasted in.

The post race chatter among the racers was focused on one thing: disappointment. We were all disappointed that 1) something had interfered in the race and 2) the 2nd group got kinda screwed because we decided to stop and make sure the woman was OK. Now, to be crystal clear, I nor anyone I spoke with blamed the refs. It was a confusing situation and some miscomms meant we never all got neutralized. I didn't learn until today that both groups got scored as their own races. Figures. Had I known that, I would have played the end out much differently but, frankly, it didn't matter anyway. The events simply altered the race and it was now in the books.

Bunny Hop: Mojo Hits JoJo

Over the past few years, I seem to have become associated with the various mechanical failures that have occurred on the team group rides. People would say it was the "Mo-Joe". Well I guess it was my turn. Once again, the bad news is that I felt stellar. The race today was the super-late Masters race. It was pretty hot out which meant that I wouldn't need an ultra-long warmup, which was fine by me. Though the field was small, there were enough big names to keep a man honest. Dave F, Chuck Hutch, SDO, a slew of Saroff, etc etc were there, not to mention our "A" squad (minus a still-injured Chris Hall).

After the whistle, I settled in right away and felt great. Really great. I moved up when I felt like it. Tucked in when necessary. Responded to some efforts and an attack or two. No problems. The course is short enough that I felt like I was in a left-hand lean the whole time. I was having a lot of fun. It felt super safe and super smooth. Ahhhhh, the Masters race.

About a third of the way into the race, something weird happened. Without being commanded, my chain went from the big ring to the little one. Then it immediately jumped off the little ring and dropped completely. We had just turned at turn 2. So I slid out right without too much worry. Hey, it happens and I've corrected such a thing a billion times. So, I put the front derailleur to the little ring position then upshifted. The chain started to come back on but then jumped clear across the rings and off the other side and wrapped around the crank arm. WTF??? So I tried going the other way again but this time it was frozen solid. I looked back and the chain looked like spaghetti in the rear derailleur. SHIT!!!

So I jumped off and ran the bike cross-style toward the pit. Luckily, ex-teammate Ryan Bracken saw me coming and ran over to help. He muscled the chain free, made sure it was threaded on both the crank spider and the cogs, propped me up on it so I could clip in with both feet, and had me ready to go before the bunch was around again. Big big thanks to Ryan for that!!! So I fed back in without issue and still felt great. OK I thought, that was interesting, now back to business.

But this time, my rear derailleur was clearly not recovered from the previous situation. It wouldn't hold a gear under power. It'd either slip or it would simply shift to an adjacent cog. Sometimes upshift. Sometimes downshift. WTF WTF WTF!!!! It was constant, like every other pedal stroke. I tried to ignore it but it became apparent that the bike was becoming unrideable. I figured I'd simply ride it out and take my field finish. Then I found myself toward the back but on Dave F's wheel. Oooooo. As we approached turn 2, he started sliding toward the inside - the opposite way the pack was sliding. He's gonna attack and I'm going with. He did and I did...almost. I got out of the saddle the absolute moment he did...and my gears slipped and sputtered again and again. But I didn't stop. Dave bridged to a group of six or so guys and I was almost there too and certainly would've been had my bike been working right.

As it was, the more I pedaled, the worse it got until I literally couldn't turn the crank without the chain going haywire. Then, at last, the same thing happened as previously. The chain flew off the spider and froze. I realized it wasn't to be. I was in the best shape of my life. I was racing with some of the best Masters on the East Coast and feeling great. But my trusty steed said no mas. So I calmly came to a stop, let out an Italian expletive or two, and rolled my bike back toward the S/F so I could watch my team finish the race.

I really enjoyed watching the rest of the race but man did the feeling suck. I had trained like a madman to get to the fitness level necessary to race with these guys. I know stuff like this happens, but it doesn't make it less frustrating. This may just cause me to get a new bike (got my current one - a Cannondale CAAD 8 with DA 7800 - in '04). But that's a post for another time.

The good news is that Jim W took 5th. Everyone else on our team looked strong. Exciting times indeed. Next up, Ft. Ritchie cat 3 race.

Buonanotte, amici miei.

Carl Dolan Race Report

Didn't make it out to Chantilly but my team managed a good showing. Proud of 'em. But, I got back in town in time for Carl Dolan. Having raced it quite a few times now, I've actually come to appreciate the subtle nuances that make this race, uh, interesting. Things like, oh I don't know, having 80 guys in full sprint spread 40 wide. I'm happy to say that, by and large, I feel safe in the 35+ field. Sure, there's generally fewer of us than in a packed 3/4 field but 95% of the 35+ dudes can actually handle their bike (with a very concrete example Sunday which I'll share in a moment.)

Got to the race site with plenty of time and was a bit disappointed in the weather. I'll take colder over blistering any day but I thought it was going to be 60-something out instead of 50 and windy. Ah well, whattayagonnado? Found the 'mates, suited up, and decided to take a few laps before mounting the fluid trainer for the disciplined portion of the warmup (where Da Numbas can control da numbas.) Strangely, my legs felt great. For me, that's usually really good...or really bad. I've had plenty of times where good-feeling legs simply meant they were going to take 2 hours to open up and the first hard effort was going to either sting really bad or send me catapulting off the back. Luckily, as I progressed through the warmup, they only started feeling better and better.

The only crappy part about that now was that we had a small showing as no one was all that interested in spending kitchen passes on Carl Dolan after a monster team showing at Chantilly. That essentially left me as domestique to Jim and Pete who are both in the running for the BAR. Being a sprinter, I have tons to learn about domestique-ing.

Jim and I lined up with wheels on the line. It's not really necessary to do that in a race like Dolan but what the hell, right? Jim advised that I stay toward the front for at least the first half of the race because he predicted a wind-induced field split (cue ominous foreshadowing music.) At the whistle, I glued myself to Mark Warno's wheel and for 2 full laps I was never further back than maybe 10th. The legs felt great.

During this time, there was the normal flurry of attacks. I covered some. Jim covered some. Pete stayed hidden most of the time for the first half of the race. Around lap 4, Dave Fuentes launched and took about seven guys with him. Jim looked at me and I said "off ya go". Evo had a guy or two in there so one of them slid up and joined me at the front. I hesitated long enough for a nice gap to form before settling in at FTP with the Evo dude to try and control any chases. Sure enough, no one was really interested in sticking their noses into that headwind. The split now had some firepower to include Warno, Fuentes, Art Brown, Jim, an Evo guy or two, a Saroff guy (I think) and one or two others. I could see them gaining distance. I figured it was gone. I sure hoped it was anyway since Jim is a great sprinter.

As the laps progressed further, a few attacks went and were brought back. But it caused enough of a speed increase to eventually gobble up the split. It was a bit disappointing. Turns out that we didn't exactly gobble up the entire split. Fuentes, Warno, and I guess two others were gone. Gee, what a surprise. So it was on to plan B which was for me to set up either Pete or Jim for the sprint. Boy did I misplay this one.

With 2 to go I had all my matches. Hell, I felt like I had an extra matchbook handy. Bike handling in the peleton was rather smooth so I felt completely comfortable choosing a path and working my way up. I was about halfway through the peleton when we made the turn. I had a clear and beautiful line which allowed me to keep pedaling thus carrying my momentum while, for some reason, the pack didn't really accelerate. Without much effort, I was on the front just as we started up the hill. Oops. I didn't panic and just tried to set a steady pace up the hill. Just as the road flattened a bit, the group started by me on my left. As we crested, I swung left to catch some shelter from the wind but swung too far and was out in it again. We were now past the start finish and making the bend into the wind. I was in it all alone with a string of guys on my right. Now, I'm not frail by any stretch and typically don't have a problem working my way into a group of guys. Nope. No one was budging. I had gone a full mile or so in the wind after pulling up the hill. That ate away most of my matches. No no no, this was all wrong!!

Oh right, the bike-handling example. As the group was passing me on my right, some guy got too close to Jim and rubbed his front wheel against Jim's rear wheel - HARD. Sounded like a belt-sander. The guy kept his cool, steered INTO Jim's wheel (which made the sound a bit louder) and came off clean. Bravo dude. Masters, love it. Anyway...

I finally worked my way into the bunch but was 3/4 back and huffing. I could see both Jim and Pete in decent position. I wasn't...and I was now pissed off. I wanted a do-over. Just the last lap please. We were now traveling at a good clip toward the turn. I managed to work my way up to about halfway back by the turn and, as you can guess, that was all she wrote. I had one last hope to surf some wheels but everyone back there sat up. The front of the peleton made haste toward the line and fanned out. I just put the pressure on the pedals as hard as I could to make contact with the back of the bunch...just as they launched into the sprint. Yep, that was that.

It was a good news, bad news story for me. I felt great and my power numbers reflected that I'm nearing peak. I was able to work for much of the race and respond as necessary. The bad of course is how I played the last two laps. Grrrrr. I need to apply some Italian rage. Or maybe I should just throw some bling at my competitors.

Grazie. Ciao!