Sunday 14 June 2009

Race Report - 14 June 2009


There's nothing in the rule book that says an elephant can't pitch.

I love racing in the rain as long as it's not a crit.

So many people just shut down. They just don't have the heart. In fact if its going to rain I want thunder and hail and wind and blinding rain. Locusts are a bit over the top, though.

Today was 102km of flat, flat flat road. I think the undulations accounted for less that 200m in elevation gain for the entire day.

As usual the communication with my team was...awry. I was reg'd in my age cat. I usually ride Elite (with the rest of my team) but today I was on my own. All the age groups started together so we were several hundred riders on the line.

From the gun I went to the front and cranked it up. I didn't want anyone around me who couldn't hold a line. A few guys contributed and after 20km or so the group was down to 50-60 mixed cat riders. Mission accomplished.

Then we slipped into the usual negative racing; No one wanted to work but everyone would chase. It makes me crazy.

The course was an out and back course on a section of closed highway. We started a few km from one turnaround rode out to the first turnaround and then past the start point to the get to second turnaround. No two laps were exactly the same length. It was kind of weird.
The turnarounds were on-off ramps at either end.

After trying to keep the pace up and a few attacks that saw the entire field chasing me I decided to sit in for a bit, eat some food and go again at the 45km turn around point.

As we went up the on ramp back onto the highway I jumped. It wasn't an out of the saddle jump I just sat and wound it up. I was hoping to get a gap and then to have some guys finally come across to me a while later.

I got my gap and settled in.

I rode and rode and rode.

When I finally looked back I was alone. The race was gone. It was just me and the lead moto and some wet, rainy pavement. I put my head down.

15km later I started to catch dropped riders from the Elite race that left several minutes before us. I fixed my eyes on them and drove. As I came up on them I'd slow for a few seconds, sit in their draft and try to recover for a moment. Then I'd turn it on again.

Once we reached the turnaround I realized that no one was working across to me. Since I was racing alone (with out a radio) this was a bit of a surprise. Back up onto the highway and I settled in and then the group went past me on the other side. I had slightly over a minute with 35km of headwind and rain and then the turnaround and 5km of tailwind back to the finish.

This didn't look so good.

Damn. I'm going to get sucked in and then I'm going to be cooked for the hairy sprint that will inevitably follow. Some guy who has sucked wheel all day will take this one.

Crap.

I'd noticed that the lead moto (well a 150cc motorscooter actually) wasn't being all that careful with his placement on the road. I moved up so that I was getting a tiny bit of cross draft from him. My speed went up about 1kph.

Huh.

I also noticed that he was wearing the uniform of one of the teams that was chasing me. Shaved legs, too? This guy was a rider.

I slipped a little closer to the bike. He didn't move. I pushed it and got closer. He saw me in his mirror and turned the throttle a little bit. He pulled away but I was still getting some draft. I nailed it and got right on him. He turned the throttle again but we were only going 50kph. I could sit in this no problem.

I sat on this moto for a solid 5km. I increased my gap and got a bit of recovery. Then I slipped off him again and back into the wind.

I've always been told that it is his responsibility to not get in my way or to place his moto or drive in such a manner as to affect the outcome of the race. Yet, here he had allowed me to draft him while his team chased behind.

Huh.

Back in the wind I managed to keep it up until I was just a few km before the final turnaround. I thought I was cooked. My power dropped off sharply and my speed went way down. I was out of gas. I hadn't eaten enough for this kind of effort (I was in the 950 cal/hr range).

I ground it out until I finally reached the last turnaround (the spot where I'd attacked). Down, around and back up onto the highway. 5km to go and a tailwaind. At 4km to go I passed the group going the other way. I had a 2km lead with 4 to go. Nothing to stop me now except a complete bonk or a puncture.

A Puncture?

I was raining. Punctures are far more likely in the rain...a puncture...a puncture...puncture...punc...just keep the speed up...if I just hold the low 40's they'd have to be going over 60 to catch me at the line. Is that right? I can never do that math.

3 to go. The moto guy just showed me 3 to go. I saw the sign though but thanks for the heads up moto guy.

Man I'm cooked. I'm going to eat everything in the team car.

2.5 to go. Anyone behind me? Was I right about the gap I had? What if it was only 1km? How fast would they have to go to get me at the line?

I can never do the math.

2 to go.

No one there.

Head down, eyes up and keep the legs turning.

Hey, I can see the finish banner and the people.

Look back. No one there.

1km to go.

No one there.

I see some dropped riders from the Elite race rolling across the line. I don't want them in the picture. Ease off a tad so I can roll in alone.

500m.

Zip up. Pull the jersey down. Is it the arms in the air? Blowing kisses? The number one? Or the point at the sponsors logo?

I'll decide at the line.

100m.

50m. Sit up. It's almost done.

God I'm cooked.

Hey! Who's this jitbag on my wheel?!

Crap!

Oh...hang on. He's one of the dropped guys from the other race.

Cross the line. I go with the "Point at the Sponsor's Logo".

Damn, the jitbag spoiled the picture.

Friday 5 June 2009

Spontaneous Human Construction.

I once made a quip to a friend that he could name any time on any day in the next 6 months and I could tell him exactly where I'd be and precisely what I'd be doing.

He did and I could.

I was only a little surprised by this. My friend thought I was making it up as I went along but he has since come to realize that I was being completely honest.

I have a tight schedule. It's true. To do all the things I want and need to do there is no other way. I have a steady contract job for 30hrs a week, a consulting job for another 10, a small business, a wife, a step daughter and a 2 year old. I also race my bike from time to time, play poker, eat too much good food, drink too much good wine and sleep too little.

The only way to manage this is to construct my life in such a way as to have clearly delineated blocks of time devoted to specific activities or serving certain functions. From x to x I train. I have 60 minutes to shower, shave, eat and be on my way to my next activity. Once that is done I have 30 minutes to have coffee at the local caffeine hut with some fellow addicts and then I have 3 hours where I do something else specific. On on and on.

So is this a good thing or a bad thing? Am I being efficient with my time or does my life lack any spontaneity? I guess it is a glass half full or glass half empty question.

I know one thing, you can't mix the two.

To train properly requires structure and discipline. It's pretty tricky to sustain this if the rest of your life is a mess. I know I can't do it. If I'm not fairly organized in my life and how I approach all of the things that I do then that spills over into my training. If I have a decent handle on my life then the training structure seems to fall into place.

But does this mean that all spontaneity has to go? Isn't there any wiggle room here? I've never been successful at planning time to be spontaneous. It just never works out.

Maybe I'm painting too grim a picture here. Maybe there is spontaneity in my life after all but it's simply taken on a different form that it had when I was a twenty-something.

When I was a swinging dick I could pile into a car with a buddy and drive half way across the county with $100 in my pocket and then hitch-hike home. That was pretty spontaneous.

When it was summer and I was young I could decide to not get up from the my sandy, well molded plot of sand on the beach, and to have another cold one instead and to go to class...tomorrow.

When the music was right and we were feeling alright I could choose the brunette over the blonde. That would be pretty spontaneous.

But that was spontaneity when I was young.

Things are a little different now.

Now I can choose to turn left instead of right on my Tuesday ride. I can choose to do 1 minute or 5 minute intervals. I can choose orange or lemon stuff to put in my water bottle.

Or I can spend ANY amount of time with my son. When you spend time with a 2 year old it's pretty hard to lay down any concrete plans. He likes to play baseball with daddy, or basketball with daddy or soccer with daddy or some kind of baseketsoccerpuzzleduckykickrunfalldownball with daddy. The few hours I get to play with him most every day are probably the most spontaneous of my adult life.

I can also choose what restaurant to go to with my wife (actually I can suggest but she can choose). I can also choose to order pizza or cook a nice meal at home.

I can choose which Japanese beer, French wine or Russian vodka will accompany me to our weekly poker game. I can even choose to play sober and maybe win some money. Heck, I can even decide to stay home!

Looked at this way, realizing that perhaps I was mistaking spontaneity with a lack of responsibility, helps me whenever I feel that the repercussions of just ditching whatever else I've got going on that day and pissing into the wind would be just too great.

I've come to realize that the time I've blocked in over the next few hours to do something that I'm not all that thrilled about affords me the time that I've blocked in to do things that are a benefit to those I care about or are things I truly enjoy.

Maybe having a family, two jobs, a start up and racing my bike isn't a jam packed, tied down, responsibility laden life but is a full, balls to the wall, getting something out of every minute lifestyle that leads somewhere.

Oh perspective how I love you.

And now we dance!