For something completely different (almost)

Flowers for Anonymity - the audio version

Updates

After nearly two weeks with virtually no riding, I was back on the bike this weekend. Saturday was an easier paced 3hrs of climbing - Munns Rd, Finlayson Arm, Malahat and a return past Goldstream through Langford; followed on Sunday by a longer, faster ride, about 3:45, along the same route but including the Shawnigan Lk loop. The legs felt strong, as did the entire aerobic system. I avoided any group riding to ensure that I was riding mostly under my threshold, albeit with a few harder efforts on Sunday.

For my time off, there were two days of no training at all (Tues, Wed, two weeks ago, after the Kelowna race) followed on Thursday by a day of very easy jogging on the treadmill for 20mins with some light weights and core strength exercises. Friday was another day of no training. Saturday I went for a gentle 45 min run, followed on Sunday by another easy run around Elk/Beaver lake. I ran up to about 9km and walked the last km, as there was no need to push through the tightness building in my quads.

It is my experience that this sort of cross training is a legitimate form of rest. Intuitively it may not seem that running in this way is a rest from cycling, but it is my view that because a different neuro-muscular system (the running system) is engaged, the body is forced to recover in a way that speeds the recovery process from a sustained period of training another neuro-muscular system (the cycling system). This works for me, I believe, largely because my body is very accustomed to switching back and forth between running and cycling, and for a cyclist who has not done much running in the past, it may not be as useful to use running as a form of recovery. For me, this kind of short term cross-training is better than doing nothing for two weeks, although some might argue otherwise.

In any event, through this period, I had also made a more regular regimen of push-ups and sit ups - everyday, rather than once every two or three days. I’d like to maintain good solid core strength exercises through September, and throw in some extra weight training sessions too. I’ve realized that, while I’ve been reasonably consistent with core exercises, I’ve neglected some lower back exercises that I think will improve my out-of-saddle power just a bid.

Last Tuesday I decided to try a short tempo run to open up my aerobic system. I knew that my legs would not last long, but the idea was to get the lungs working hard without riding the bike. So, with almost 20minutes of running at my anaerobic threshold, my legs locked up coming down the far side of King George Terrace. The quads would take me no further and I walked for nearly an hour to get home.

Fortunately the next day the soreness was nearly gone, and I went for an easy spin on the bike for an hour. On Thursday I did some weights and core work, and on Friday I did no training, followed by my two longer rides this weekend, which begins the resumption of regular training on the bike.

Today, as a transition day between two jobs - having resigned from my paralegal position with the Legal Services Branch on Friday, to begin my position as an adjudicator with the Office of the Superintendent of Motor Vehicles tomorrow - I threw in an easy 1hr20mins of spinning on a considerably cooler day than the last several.

I’m not sure if I’m up for the Sidney TT tomorrow - may opt for some hill intervals instead - will see how I feel come tomorrow.

Kelowna Stage Race

BC Cup #7 - Kelowna. Three stages: 3.8 km hill climb & 60min + 2 lap criterium on Saturday, 120 km road race Sunday

Last year this time I was coming on to decent form and had what for me was a good race when I finished 15th in the general classification over four stages (it was shortened this year to three stages). This year my form is at least as good, but I have been feeling tired since White Rock, following on the Cascade Classic the week previous. And, after what felt like a very ragged week of quasi-training and resting and feeling on the edge of catching a bug, I was quite prepared to feel quite burned and flat for this race.

The 3.8km hill climb up Knox Mountain Saturday morning, after the Friday evening spent traveling with Trevor Connor and Casey Ryder, was painful and at 10:16 my time was a mere 3 seconds faster than last year. Last year I was on a heavier bike and generally inferior equipment, so my thought was that I was likely to be significantly faster than last year, so was a little disappointed with my time, but was not surprised given the week leading up to it.

Will Routley (Symmetrics) who was 19th overall at the Cascade Classic, took the winning time in 9 minutes flat, and there were about 25 guys between him and me of a field of 47 in the Cat 1,2 field. I would have been happier with a sub-10min time, but it could have been worse. Trevor Connor, who had been sick all week, managed to tough out the climb in 9:38, while Casey, riding his first stage race in the men’s master event held on for just over 12 minutes.

With lungs burning from the dry air and the effort of the hill climb, and my heart-rate remaining high through the day, I was not feeling optimistic about the criterium. However, once we began at 6:30 that evening, my solid fitness base took over, and over the 60 minutes plus 2 laps around the sweeping 1km course, I was able to generate a few attacks, get into a few breakaway attempts and generally make a good race of it.

While the criterium was rich with attacks, the bunch ultimately stayed together, and although I held a top 10 position for most of the race, by the finish I likely ended up somewhere around 20th (I have not yet seen the final results). A crash on the last corner, resulting from a fellow’s front tire blowing out, slowed up the field that followed behind, and I was just on the inside of him as he slid out. It looked a bit nasty, and I haven’t heard how he is doing.
The race went by quickly, and, when they rang the bell with 2 laps to go it seemed to me we had only been racing for about 40 minutes, which is a testament to my good fitness.

Fortunately, rather than breaking me down, I felt as though the criterium opened my system, and I felt more fully recovered after that than after the hill climb. After the race, with Trevor laying low at our UBC Okanagan campus digs for the evening and still suffering somewhat from his bug, Casey and I popped downtown for dinner at a lakefront restaurant - the busiest night of the year, we were told.

Overnight my heart-rate dropped and by the morning was 48bpm, and I felt rested by the morning, to my pleasant surprise.

The Cat 1,2 race was shortened to 120k after originally being slated for 130k, over an undulating, technical course with one steep and difficult 600m climb and a lot of tough rollers along the way. The race played out rather strangely. A breakaway of about 6 riders, with most of the major teams represented, rolled off on the first lap, just before the difficult climb. Being in a good position to join it, I delayed in getting onto it, largely thinking the field would follow on. It began to slip away, and leading onto the climb I closed the gap to the break, thinking the pack would then jump across to it on the descent. That didn’t happen, and so shortly afterward, I made an attempt to bridge across on my own. However, on the descent and up some rollers, I made no in-roads on the the breakaway, while the pack was content to watch it slip away. I thought best to drop back to the pack.

As the pack was not chasing at all, being a solo rider with no team mates, I decided I might as well get myself onto the front of the pack and ride tempo to keep the breakaway close. Many would argue this was a fruitless move on my part, but the race was over otherwise, in my mind, if we were to let the breakaway gain four or more minutes on us - over for me, and any others without teams, that is, but not over for those with team-mates in the breakaway. At one point, after I’d been on the front for nearly a full lap with Ryan Anderson and Will Routley of Symmetrics and everyone else calmly sitting on my wheel, Trevor rode up beside me and asked me why I was riding at the front, and demanded that I get off it.

Largely, Trevor was right, since I was gradually frying myself, but in the end it assisted in changing the nature of the race considerably, since the breakaway was held at less than two minutes, and ultimately was gobbled up, as I note below. Cyrus Kangerloo of Team H & R Block rode a similar race to mine, spending a lot of time at the front, as he had no team-mates in the break.

Events continued to unfold. Tim Sherstobitoff, the Symmetrics rider in the break, had a mechanical problem causing him to retire from the race. This forced Symmetrics to take up the chase. On about lap five, I took a short flyer just before the hill and, as I was cresting over the top of the climb, I could see Will behind me attacking it with a vengeance and shattering the group up the climb. All I could think of was “thank god I came over that hill ahead of the pack, since I might have been dropped by that attack.” When Will came across to me I took the ride on his wheel for the better part of half a lap, and when we went by Tim Sherstobitoff standing at the side of the road with a wheel in his had, it became apparent to me why Will had attacked and that he was attempting bridge across to the breakaway on his own (albeit with me on his wheel).

Despite being the strongest rider and significantly gapping the field, there were enough strong riders remaining in the group, and Will’s attempt was soon brought to bay. But his effort sliced the time to the breakaway, now being reduced to less than a minute. Ryan Anderson, who’d also taken up the chase for Symmetrics eventually dropped off, while the pack had whittled by steady attrition down to about 15, which group I managed to hang on to.

With a few more attacks from Will and others, finally I cracked up the last climb, and came in with Curtis Deardon (also of Victoria) and a Total Restoration rider, about a minute back. Total Restoration is a strong Kelowna based team, which had three guys remaining in top 15 by the finish. So, I think I ended up about 15th or 16th in the end, about the same as last year. I was actually quite happy with this, although ideally I would have stuck with the front group right to the finishing sprint.

The race was an omnium points format, and I finished outside the points in the HC and the crit, given to the top 10. Points went 15 deep in the RR, and if I’m lucky received 1 (!) for that stage. The RR was the most difficult of the stages, and the final omnium classification on points will not be an accurate reflection of how the race played out, and I would argue a time classification is the most appropriate format for a stage race, as it was last year. There are a number of arguments either way, and I won’t get into them at the moment. It depends a bit on how the final results for each race are posted as to whether one’s efforts are diminished by the omnium format. So, until I see the results, I’ll have to reserve judgment on it.

In any event, I was happy with my racing. After the race, Trevor suggested I had the strength to win this race, if I’d only allocated it more wisely. Perhaps a top 5, in my mind, but even so one never knows how a race will play out. I could easily have sat in the pack when the break went away, and it would have been 5 minutes up the road before anyone responded, and the race would have been over. For me, I’m more satisfied knowing I gave it everything I had on the day and finished 16th, rather than finishing in some unknown position by sitting in the pack. I love to race and bust my butt - not sit in and let the race be taken to me, regardless of the outcome. There is much for me to learn, this is true, but at my age, I’m perfectly happy knowing I can still race at this level - I don’t really have a burning need to perfect the niceties of racing strategy for better results. Then again, my current fairly high level of fitness has been a bit of surprise to me, and perhaps even a small adjustment in tactics will change my own results considerably.

So, the plan now is to take 5 days off the bike, and one week easy before building again for the five-stage race, Tobago Classic in September. That race will feature a ton of climbing, and will be very difficult, but doubtless will prove to be a fantastic experience.

Nothing more I can say

From first bird twitters to late afternoon, the day accelerated all in the slinging red discus of the sun arching overhead, leaving in its wake a ripple of shifting blues. But the gypsy cyclist barely recognized the passage of time, and, catching in the dim ambiguity of his awareness, the red disk seemed to slow up as if to fatigue suddenly in the lateness of day. A vague perception percolated his thoughts that, really, the day had only just started. Acknowledging his own fatigue and the fire in his quads, he discovered the sound of his own voice, saying: “my, how quickly the day has passed. It seems like it has only just begun.”

But his consciousness shifted as the flames in his legs fanned through his body, upward to sear the hollows of his innards and cheeks. He knew he had consumed nothing in eight hours of riding; knew that instantaneously there was not one pedal stroke more for his legs to take, recognized his imminent collapse as the universe before him shriveled to a dot, and he thought, falling, “What an idiot, I am. I never ride that long without eating.”

For a moment he lay beside his bicycle without capacity for motion. Then, when an ember of consciousness flecked among the whiteness, he grabbed for every granola crumb that lined his jersey pockets, frantically and shaking, and a voice nearby, saying: “I think he’s ok. He’s coming to.” But the voice faded and he grabbed at the water bottles in their cages and slung back dregs of sugary fluid. Soon the dimming sky again became visible; the space around him expanded and a hot evening breeze enwrapped him. He needed more food, but for the moment he was content simply to lie still under the purple sky.

A man spoke to him. “You should not travel through here,” he said.

The gypsy cyclist, with only just enough awareness for a simple conversation, said. “Oh, why?”

“There are rebels in the bushes, roaming the lands, everywhere. They are not targetting foreigners, but they are ruthless and will cut you into pieces with their machetes if you cross them when they are in the mood for blood. You should turn back here. You are lucky to have made it this far.”

The gypsy cyclist needed no more prompting than that. “I will. Does anyone have any food? Fruit? Water? Please, I nearly passed out.”

“Yes,” replied the man with a smile. Others nearby chuckled. “We saw!” The man pointed to a young boy nearby. “Acholeli, give him some water and bananas.” The boy, Acholeli, pulled two bananas from a sack and a flask of water, handing it to the gypsy cyclist. The gypsy cyclist thanked him.

“There, in that village,” pointed Acholeli to a place in the distance where thatched roofs could be seen over the top of a wooden fence. “They are all orphans. We are from the south, and are here to help. But all their parents have been killed by the rebels. The rebels commit the most brutal atrocities. For some of those children, the rebels brought their dead mothers’ heads in a great urn, and told the children to find their mother’s heads. How many children have lost their minds. But we are here to dance and to sing with them, to help them to find solace from their wounds.”

Still acutely aware of his depleted body, moreso than the words of Acholeli or the man, the gypsy cyclist rapidly consumed the two bananas, and drank the water. He began to feel better, wishing he could have more, but could not ask for it. “That is utterly horrible,” he said. “I hope for all your sakes that the rebels are brought to justice. Why do they do it?”

“It is about power,” said Acholeli. “It is a simple thing. The more children in a tribe, the more powerful it is. The children are made into soldiers, or slaves. Yes, it is almost unbearable. I have written a song”.

Acholeli sang

softly and slowly at first, rising in volume and finally to heart-wrenching passion.

“I was twelve years old,
Nothing but twelve years old,
Rebels came, took me, my sister away,
Killed mother and father,
Showed me a pot full of heads
And said, ‘where is your mother now?’
I was losing my mind,
And there is nothing more I can say,
Nothing more I can say,
Nothing more I can say
Nothing more I can say.”

For the gypsy cyclist, the flames that fanned from his legs to the hollows of his cheeks transformed to a fire in his mind. Though his body cried out for yet more food, of that he was no longer aware, and for his head there was nothing to feed or fill a mind from which all thoughts had fled, diffusing into all the molecules of the hot muggy air, propagating into the deep purple sky, out into the vacuum of space to vanish, to hide behind a crowd of stars.

He told the people he would turn back in the morning. First, though, he needed much sleep.

White Rock update

Just to update the racing this weekend, there are race reports and results on www.canadiancyclist.com. It looks like I finished 31st in the RR. Some photos of the road race here,

Tour de White Rock criterium and RR

After returning from the Cascade Classic, the week consisted of three days of no riding (a short jaunt to the gym on Wednesday for some very light weights and a 15min jog on the treadmill at heart rate 90-95), followed by a 2hr ride on Thursday of mostly spinning and a couple of accelerations up the Munns Road climb, and no riding on Friday. After my ride Thursday, however, I was worried I was still too fatigued from the Cascade classic to be on form for the White Rock criterium and RR this weekend.

The criterium

The criterium, in the heart of downtown White Rock, was 60km (60 laps of a 1km) course for the mens Pro 1,2 field, featuring a fast downhill past the start/finish, two fast corners and then uphill for a stretch (about 4% grade), and two more corners to the descent again. It is technically not a difficult criterium, but the hill on the backstretch makes it a gruelling affair when repeated 60times.

With Chris Horner from Astana making the trip up to B.C. for Superweek after the Cascade Classic, Health Net (some of them also having done the Cascade Classic), Bissell Pro, Jittery Joe’s, Symmetrics, Rubicon/Orbea, among a number of strong B.C. teams and riders, for about 100 on the start line, the race was sure to entail requisite heapings of pain and suffering.

For the first few laps the pace was fast but not unbearable, and I found myself working my way through the field to the front at one point, and went with a short lived breakaway with a Health Net guy, and another. This was quickly brought back, and as I rode at the head of the pack down by the start/finish I felt a whole lot of wind in front of me, and the sinking feeling that I had just been on a suicide mission.

While I never really quite recovered from that effort, as short lived as it was, I managed to hang in for the duration of the race, albeit I never again ventured very near the front. When the sprint went for the finish, I was clinging on the back of the 55 riders who remained, the rest having packed it in - let a gap go with a few others, and came home in 48th position, about 20 seconds back of Andrew Pinfold, who took his third Superweek victory, just ahead of Horner. 60kms were covered in 1hr 9 minutes and change.

I was happy to have survived the race, as last year I didn’t. It was tough, very tough, especially toward the end, and I don’t think I managed to take a single sip of gatorade during the whole race, being either on the rivet, trying to recover, or taking a technical corner elbow-to-elbow.

On my warm-down, I was really questioning how well recovered I would be for the 8am start for the 134km RR in the morning. The criterium finished at about 7:30, leaving barely over 12hrs of recovery time between races. Proper refuelling of course was crucial as soon as possible after the criterium.

Road Race

This is probably the hardest course I’ve ever raced on. There are 11 laps of a long 10+km loop that consists of one climb of about 700m up Columbia Ave at about 8% grade, a rapid descent, a short flat before a gradual rise leading to a gut wrenching 500m climb up Magdallen Rd at 16%, and a few other shorter climbs, and some fast flat and descent. Then there are 5 laps of a short 3.8km loop that includes only the Columbia climb. If you make it onto the short circuit before the barriers go up, then you are allowed to finish and receive a finishing time - if not, you are not allowed to finish.

Fairly soon after the start a breakaway of about 10 riders pulled away, which included (I believe) Chris Horner. A few guys bridged across, but it was early enough in the race for teams in the pack to keep the break in sight, and then to close the gap on the third lap. When the group was reintegrated, there was a slowing of pace on the Columbia climb and three guys (H & R Block and two others) bolted away. Because the pace was slow, I accelerated away as well, and was just back of them onto the flat and up the rise before Magdallen. Heading up Magdallen, I could see a Rubicon/Orbea guy coming across, and he joined me on the climb, and together we bridged to join the others just at the top of Magdallen.

At the time, I thought there were still riders ahead, and I didn’t realize that we had just formed the breakaway group. Immediately one of the fellows dropped off the pace, and so we had a breakaway of four. The Rubicon guy, from Australia, was the strongest among us on the flat, but was losing steam on the climbs. The H & R Block guy was starting to lose some steam too, and after two laps it was down to three of us, the Rubicon fellow (Shawn Morris), myself and a Team Rio Grande fellow, Allen Krughoff (some of them were also at Cascade). At one point the announcer described us, as we passed under the start/finish banner, as “the Australian, the American and the Canadian”.

We managed to maintain an even pace for 6 laps and, while the time gap hovered at about 2 mins for a long time, at one point, after about four laps, we had built a lead of 3:44. With that much time in hand, I sensed a feeling among our three that we didn’t need to keep working so hard, although we were also beginning to flag in energy supplies. This was coupled with a burgeoning sense of urgency within the pack and, soon after, the time gaps started dropping rapidly. When we were at about 1 minute ahead, the Rubicon fellow dropped off the pace up Columbia, and Krughoff and I knew our fate was sealed. However, we kept on for one more lap to get over Magdellen, and went for what we thought for King of the Mountain points at the top of Columbia - Krughoff nipping me at the KOM line each time, except perhaps two.

When the gap was at about 40 seconds, we sat up, fueled ourselves and waited for the catch as the train came up with three Symmetrics on the front driving the pace. Just before we were caught by the pack, one fellow had made a short attempt to get away and zipped past us, but he was caught shortly afterward.

The pack was still sizeable, about 60 in number, meaning that the peloton pace had not been high for the duration of our breakaway. In other years, the pack has been considerably reduced after about lap seven. This meant that some really brutal attacks were still to come. The next lap was bearable, but on lap 11, the last time up Magdallen, the Jittery Joes guys ripped the peloton into three groups. By then I was hovering near the back, and for the last 5 short laps, was in a group of about 10, including Eric Wolhberg and a couple of other Symmetrics and others. Horner was up the road with a pack of twenty or thirty strong.

As it was, Horner ended up lapping my group on the short loop up Columbia, to take the victory. He was the only one to do so, and went by us up Columbia so fast in the big ring, it looked like he was riding on the flat. The commissaires had everyone finish on the same short lap as the winner, and our group is shown in the results as about 7 minutes back of Horner.

In any event, I am elated to have been in a breakaway for six laps - there is some glory in that, even if you don’t end up placing particularly well. I think the peloton was kind to us, though - there were many tired legs in there after Superweek, with Delta last weekend, Gastown and Burnaby criteriums during the week. With the Cascade Classic, I had a hard week the previous week, but was perhaps just rested enough to benefit from it and to be strong enough for a good race today. At this level and my modest objectives, a six lap breakaway in White Rock, a prestigious continental race, is enough to keep me happy for the rest of the year!

The ignominious finale; the beautiful peloton

So, after hanging on by fingernails for stages 3, 4, and 5, at last for stage six the fingernails were too brittle for strength, the thread was severed, the last straw was cast upon my back.

Stage six, the Awbrey Circuit course, was 5 loops of a 27km (135km total) with several short but torturous climbs to shatter the peloton. For my part, having plucked, in discordant tones, the string of fate in stages 3,4 and 5, Atropos was ruthless at last and severed her thread to watch my ignominious ejection from the rear of the peloton at about kilometer 24. Being the final stage, beginning at 1:00 pm and with a long drive home looming and a work day to follow, this was not to be a stage in which I would elect to ride around for four more loops on my own simply to finish the race.

The first half of the course was largely either flat or descending; the second half being where all the nasty climbs occured. On this second half, just after closing gaps that rent themselves open on the first long climb, I could only make one last ditch effort for the sprint over the short steep one that followed. And when Leipheimer and the angry teams that followed pounded the roads with their unrelenting hammers, it was up the very next rise when I was severed from contact, and that was the end of my Cascade Classic.

All in all, however, I am content with my race over five days and six stages. There is little I would change, but if I could have anything back at all, it would be to have lasted longer in the criterium, because it was truly the crash that marred my race. It is a notoriously difficult criterium, and oddly it feels rather like I’m better at that sort of effort (short bursts of near maximal effort interspersed by periods of recovery) than the hard sustained time-trial type efforts - which have traditionally been better for me.

In summary, I had a fantastic experience. I enjoyed my stay with my hosts Jason and Theresa, the logistics of the racing and the atmosphere of 150 riders, and their support crews; the commissaires, the police escorts and the rolling road enclosures, the suffering in the peloton and the satisfaction of the first day, and all the preparations for the days that followed.

As much as anything, however, and perhaps more greatly so, I revelled in the sight of the amorphous and twisting formations of the peloton, which, from certain vantage points, was eminently visible. For me there are few sights as beautiful as the organic bicycle peloton. And when you can both see it and be among it, to know that you are both observer and participant - that is as awe-inspiring for me as the stars in the night, the mountains in the distance, the breadth of the ocean, and the enigma of human genius and consciousness.

It is not merely a metaphor to say that the peloton is a unitary organic entity: there are physical constraints of collective energy dissipation by which the riders, when coupled globally, give rise to a collective dynamic that exhibits true features of complex and organic processes. How amazing it is to be a part of those processes; and then how astounding also to realize how much, in our daily lives, we are all a part of a vastly more complex peloton. How the bike race distills to its essence and wonderful simplicity the massive and beautiful collective dynamic we know as life!

Stage 5 - survival again, barely

As my objective coming into this race was to finish all the stages within the time cuts, I seem to be achieving that, albeit by the skin of my teeth. After feeling really quite terrible in the TT yesterday, and holding on in the criterium more than the required 1/3 of the race in order to receive a pro-rated time after eventually being lapped out after missing a crash, today was but another day to see what my body would give me.

Today’s course, 84 miles (137km), contained 20km of climbing almost immediately off the start, and while I would say my legs felt a little less full of acid than they did yesterday, a breakaway of six went immediately, meaning that a concerted chase was on and a relentlessly and painfully fast pace up the climb, and even with fresh legs I am certain to be in serious trouble at this level of racing. I was clinging on to the peloton (whittled down to 134 after eliminations yesterday) up until about half way, but could feel myself being sifted gradually back, as guys around me began popping. Soon after a gap formed between me and the rider ahead, and I was among those popped, and all I could do was to watch the mass of riders ahead disappear up and around the bend.

As the vehicle caravan proceeded by me, there was the odd opportunity for some brief shelter in along side vehicles as they passed. It is illegal to draft directly behind vehicles, although it certainly happens frequently for riders who have dropped off the pace, and I can admit to a brief stint behind a vehicle on the uphill as I crossed from the left hand side of the road to the right, as was required for riders who had fallen outside the peloton. I was certainly not the only one, as I witnessed prolonged drafting, even on the flat afterward and the descent, as well as one fellow holding onto the side of a car for a ride straight to the top of the climb. However, usually riders will be warned and given time penalties or will be fined for drafting, and unless the offense is repeated continuously and for very long periods, they will not be ejected from the race, and so riders take a calculated risk by drafting. Indeed, if you ask around the peloton, you will hear countless stories about riders being dropped and then drafted straight back into contention for the race.

As it was, over the top of the climb I managed to catch a couple of other stragglers, and together we caught a few more until we were seven strong after the descent and on the flat. So, at that point about 100km remained for us to drive a paceline all the way to the finish, and work hard to keep within the time cut. We lost one after about 10km, but otherwise we kept the pace high and consistent. We were given time estimates on the riders ahead, and with 20miles to go we were told we were only 4 minutes behind a chase group, although we didn’t know how far back we were from the leaders. With 14 miles to, the long ascent up to the Mount Batchelor ski resort began, and after a couple of km of gradual climbing, my paceline mates were not up to maintaining a fast pace up the last climb. Wary of the ever prescient time cut looming, I pulled away from the group up the climb and was on my own up the last 14km of climbing.

When I finally finished, I learned I was roughly 15+ mins back of the leaders, although the race had shattered and riders were spread all across the road between the leaders and me. So, I believe I finished within the time cut, again only just barely, although the final confirmation remains. At this point it looks good that I have survived yet again to race the last circuit race, which is notorious for splitting the field yet further. Several years ago, when I raced the Cascade Classic, the circuit race was my best race, when I finished in around 33rd position. The race was well contested then, but this year it is yet a notch higher, and discussion is that the level this year is similar to the Tour of Georgia and the Tour of California, which are major international pro races. I am told I’ve chosen the hardest of all the US National Racing Circuit races to race this year, and that it is yet a notch above Mt Hood, another highly reputed NRC race. So, I think I can look at my results here in a highly positive light, given that the teams here, including Health-Net, BMC, Bissell Pro, Toyota-United, Garmin-Chipotle, Rock Racing, Team Type 1, Astana (Leipheimer and Horner) and others are serious professional teams with salaried riders who train and race full time. The category 1 riders, like myself, are in the highest category of the amateur riders, and to open the race as a Pro/1 race is largely a development opportunity for amateur riders seeking recognition at the professional level. A few of the other teams contain non-pro Cat 1 riders, and there a few here without teams or support, such as myself and Trevor Connor who is riding about 50th in the general classification - a fantastic result, and fared well even after crashing in the crit yesterday and receiving chainring puncture wounds in his right hand.

Dominque Rollin, riding for Toyota-United, and one of Canada’s seasoned pros, won the criterium yesterday. Will Routley, of Symmetrics, is looking to move into the top 15 after today’s stage. More confirmation on results later.

Stages 3 and 4 - made it, just barely

When I awoke this morning, after a decent night’s sleep, I thought all was on track, and with my time trial start being 1:16pm, it seemed there was some time to relax and even do a little studying for my latest course (with 8 out of 20 under my belt toward the BPA completion degree I’m working on as distance studies). I didn’t detect any real problems with my body, although last night at a BBQ for the riders I noticed a slight sensation like I might be catching a cold - but I dismissed it. However, when it finally came to my warm-up for the time trial, it was apparent that my legs were full of acid, were rather weak and sore - a terrible sign, I was going to have a lot of trouble generating any real power.

I was at a further disadvantage, in that the TT was uphill for the first half, and downhill for the second, and my gearing for the downhill was not sufficient, as I’d heard many riders were going with 54,55, or 56 tooth chainrings, which would have made a big difference on the downhill half. As it was, with my 53 tooth chainring, I had further troubles switching into my 11 tooth cog on the rear.

Needless to say, the TT did not go well, and while I was not dead last in the TT I was 7th last, I believe, and was the last rider inside the time cut. The rider back of me was less than 20 seconds behind, and they chopped him and the others behind him out of the race. This is unfortunate, since the race bible indicated there would be no time cuts on the TT, and for the Commissairs to change the rules after the fact is poor refereeing, in my humble opinion.

In any event, after such a horrible TT, being 7 minutes behind Levi Leipheimer over a 23km course, I didn’t know what to do about my legs. I ate a grilled ham sandwich immediately after, then rode around for another 20 minutes after the TT trying to move the acid from my legs, returned to my homestay, put my legs up and massaged them, and then sat in a bath full of cold water.

With the criterium beginning at 7pm, I did not have a good feeling about it. I rode around for about half an hour before, with some short accelerations, and finally concluded that they felt better than the morning, but still pretty questionable. The crit was to be 90mins, and the time cut was such that you needed to finish at least 30 minutes before being lapped in order to receive a pro-rated time.

With 130 riders on the line, the start was fast, as to be expected - 50km/hr laps. Being rather near the back, but hanging on not too badly over the 6 corner course, I began to think I might survive the entire race. At one point I looked up to see we’d completed 25 minutes, and I was still in the race - I knew I was going to make it at that point. However, not one lap later, a crash occurred on one of the corners, and just as I came around there were three guys lying in the middle of the course. I was forced to swing wide and slow up considerably, skidding, and just barely missing the sidewalk and going over the bars myself. At that point about 10 guys were off the back, just in front of me, and as they went racing ahead to try and catch the quickly escaping group, a gap had formed between me and them, and with one other guy, we attempted in vain to bridge. About 4 laps later were finally lapped out. However, we were at about 33 minutes - just inside the time cut! I live to fight another stage, but it does not get any closer than it did today.

Tomorrow will be brutal, though - it starts right away with 24km of gradual climbing, and I can only hope that my legs are feeling better tomorrow than they were this morning. Hope, hope, hope.

CC stage 2 results update

Stage 2 results and general classification here

I was a bit farther back than I had estimated, finishing the stage in 98th position, something over 8 minutes back of the leader. This is still ok, in that I was comfortably within the time cut on what for me was a very tough stage. This leaves me in 88th position on the the overall general classification, and just a few places back of Rory Sutherland, who is actually leading the US National Racing Circuit, ahead of Chris Horner - so I’m still in good company. However, it gets harder: early afternoon is the TT, and then the criterium this evening, which is worrying me a little, but I’ll update later…