After my first weekend of spectacularly fun 'cross racing with the cat 2-3-4 group, an emotional breakup ensued and I decided it was time to face the semi-big boys of the cross world, the elite UCI men C2 category - don't ask me to explain. I just finished reading an essay trying to grasp the UCI's convoluted point system. It's enough to know C2 means bottom of the barrel as far as cyclocross eliteness goes.
Northampton, MA & Look Park were the gracious hosts of the 20th anniversary for the Cycle-Smart International 'Cross Race. A fun filled weekend of 'cross racing in the heart of New England was sure to excite all, me included. I headed up from CT in the 'rents SUV Saturday AM flying solo and arrived 3 hours early which gave me plenty of time to do the proper cyclocross race preparation. What's the ideal race prep? Well, it's still a soon to be released masterpiece in the works, but it goes something like this: sign in 5 (I was already way behind!) hours before your start time, doff your warm clothes for a flattering skinsuit immediately so the chill sets in early, then pre-ride the course 17 times before the race so you know the intricate corners, that magical line that floats you through the sand pit, and what rock or root to step upon next during those dreaded run-ups.
Currently I'm not partaking in my own game plan, and I chose to sit in the car with the heater on high, and eyed my new skinsuit (thanks CyclingReporter.com!) with trepidation while I tried to figure out how to attach the three numbers to the hyper stretchy sleeves and back. I ended up following Mr. Dan Bonedeth's, NYC cyclocross extraordinaire, lead and illegally trimmed my sleeve numbers since my puny biceps are nowhere near large enough to support the 6" wide numbers. The rear I guesstimated, and only tore one corner when entering the lycra cage. My best job yet.
Saturday was a beautiful and sunny fall day, albeit a bit chilly, but I'm sure it classifies as warm in the cyclocross handbook. I drew my number enclosed in an envelope from a big box, and ended up near the back of the grid. Not surprising. Starting in the back sorta sucks in 2-3-4, but I had a hunch it would really stink in the elite category. My hunch didn't let me down.
After getting my tires checked to make sure they conform to the UCIs max tire size, I entered the corral and awaited the whistle. I didn't have to wait long, thankfully, and then it was all out war. A full blown sprint with 50+ guys down a narrow grass track. I got a bit lucky and managed to pass a decent chunk of guys. I probably rolled in to the first bottle neck around 25th place.
The first thing I discovered about the elite men is they are significantly more aggressive. I was elbowed a few times early on. I had a few guys cut me off around corners only to gain nothing. Those same guys dropped off the radar only minutes later never to be seen again. The second thing I learned was they do not like to be passed, and will do everything they can to make the pass difficult.
The first two laps were brutally fast, and I was thinking an hour of this is going to be extremely difficult. Fortunately, it seemed after two laps everything settled down, and a much more sustainable pace began. I was with a group of 4 or 5 guys and we traded positions off and on for the entire race. The leaders were long gone after the first choke point, and I quickly learned catching them was simply not going to happen. The chase group ahead of us was not in sight either so I ditched my aspirations of a top 10 finish, and focused on a top 20. A few guys here and there throughout the race would crash, or go out with a mechanical so my chances were pretty good.
By the end of the last lap we had dropped one guy from our group and another was dangling off the back. I tried to sprint to catch the guy in front of me but could not catch him so settled for 17th place. In the money, $31!
Day 2 can be summarized in a few short paragraphs:
I went to a cyclocross race that was colder than the day before, hated my warmth stealing skinsuit (it looks GREAT though, thanks cyclingreporter.com) even more than the day before, and was seriously lacking motivation to get out of the car. Today I had JPOW embrocation to test out on my chilled joints, courtesy of Jeremy Powers himself, who hosted me at his place for the weekend. And does it indeed JPOW! when applied, it's like, mmmm, DAMN, pow!, my skin is on fire but at least it smells nice. I guess that's a good thing. It helped me feel warm and safe.
Anyways, I warmed up a bit then hit the grid. Started in the very back today. Was near dead last going in to the first bottleneck. Passed some guys then my rear tire decided to pop off the rim and burp a heap load of air. Tubeless treated me nice for 3 races but failed miserably Sunday. I went to the pit but entered it from the exit point and was told I'd be DQ'd if I went back out on the course. How many rules this year am I going to break???? Not this one. One does not mess with the Union Cycliste Internationale!
And thus ends the illustrious story of Sunday's race. DNF!
Monday, November 8, 2010
My very first cross race.
Throughout the road racing season this year I was told numerous times by fellow racers I should try out cyclocross racing since I have some modest mountain biking roots. After my final road race at Univest this year, about the last thing I wanted to do was continue training and riding, especially as the temperature dropped and the days grew shorter, but the bug was already caught and I couldn't get 'cross out of my mind so I ordered a frameset and slapped some components on it.
I hate cold weather, and do not fare well in it. So what better sport to try than one that is raced in a warmth leaching skin suit on a course designed to purposely create poor conditions for a bunch of wannabe mountain bikers to muddle around in for one miserable hour, or if you're lucky 30 to 45 minutes, and even better, during the transition months to winter so it's freaking freezing most the time? I'm game. What the hell.
To make things even more interesting for my cyclocross debut, I refused to train for the month leading up to the first race, and was also adamantly against practicing dismounts, run-ups, or barrier hurdles. It seemed incredibly lame, in my eyes, to be in some random park in the city while cool people playing flag football stink-eyed me jumping over rocks, or even worse, imaginary barriers that only I could see. I also haven't run for 27 years, but wasn't about to begin this year.
Ok, a few of you probably rolled your eyes when I said I wasn't going to train. I admit it. I raced Iron Cross for four hours two weeks before my first true cross race, and also commute to work daily for about 40 minutes each way no matter the weather, and, uh, sometimes do intervals on the way to and from work. And then there's that group rocket ride I did a few weeks back, that 70 mile ride I did with a few teammates, and that century ride to Bear Mtn where I went as hard as possible up every hill...and, yeah, well, you get the point. I stopped doing "structured" intervals but never really stopped riding.
Last weekend I signed up for my first two 'cross races in Jersey. They were part of the MAC series and I was scared shitless I would trip and fall on my face going over the first barrier so I signed up for the 2-3-4 category instead of the UCI elite. So on Saturday, my first race, I nervously lined up with 70 or so other guys in the 2nd to last row and decided I would just have fun and see how things went.
The gun blasted and immediately I forgot the fun part and entered race mode and started sprinting up the side passing a good chunk of people, perhaps 20 or 30. When we hit the...hole shot? I think that's the technical cyclocross term... there was immediately a crash that I managed to avoid, and it was in to the woods we went. I picked off a few guys here and there and was maybe in 30th place.
Then came the sand run. Some guy in front of me hit the sand and face planted. I thought it was hilarious and almost stopped and said so, but decided that would further reduce my tiny fan club when word got out. Running through the sand was an awkward experience. It was deep and very loose. I'd liken the action to cross country skiing. After a few of these, my legs would be screwed, I thought.
After some more trail action next came the dreaded barriers. I went around the corner, hopped off, jumped over them and hopped back on. What the hell? Why do people train for these? Anyways, next was a run up an amphitheater. Huge steps, perhaps a foot and half tall. A bit wider than my stride so I was forced to lope or double step it. I live in a walk up so these were no big deal, but they added some spice to the mix and had me struggling to catch my breath each time I hopped back on the bike.
Eventually I caught the lead group and rode behind them in 5th place. They were going kinda slow but I didn't really know if it was a good idea to go solo so just hung around on the back. We putzed around for a few laps, and it was in to a sharp corner and up the road for a sprint finish. Being in the in very back, I had no time to catch up to the 3 guys who really gunned it. I passed one guy for a stellar 4th place finish.
Woo hah.
Day 2. Still stuck in Jersey, this time a little closer to the city, at HPCX I drew an even more awesome position a few rows deeper in to the masses. 90+ guys lined up to ride around in circles on some grass in a fantastically gorgeous Jersey park. No sand this time. Only those not-so-fearsome barriers where the crowd mingled heckling the riders as they passed.
The gun blasted for the 2nd time in two days in my ears, and more of the same happened. Sprint, pass a bunch of guys, and ride very aggressively passing people as quickly as possible. By the second lap I was with the same lead guys as yesterday. I sat on the back for most the lap recovering and when we hit the small climb I passed all of them and kept the pace high. One guy came with me, and I managed to drop him a few minutes later. I rode the rest of the race solo besides one incident where I crashed going around a corner before the barriers. This enabled me to be caught for a bit but I quickly pulled away again. A few laps later I managed to crash in the exact same spot but was far enough away it didn't matter. After 45 minutes I cruised over the finish line for first place. Anti-climactic...I know.
I hate cold weather, and do not fare well in it. So what better sport to try than one that is raced in a warmth leaching skin suit on a course designed to purposely create poor conditions for a bunch of wannabe mountain bikers to muddle around in for one miserable hour, or if you're lucky 30 to 45 minutes, and even better, during the transition months to winter so it's freaking freezing most the time? I'm game. What the hell.
To make things even more interesting for my cyclocross debut, I refused to train for the month leading up to the first race, and was also adamantly against practicing dismounts, run-ups, or barrier hurdles. It seemed incredibly lame, in my eyes, to be in some random park in the city while cool people playing flag football stink-eyed me jumping over rocks, or even worse, imaginary barriers that only I could see. I also haven't run for 27 years, but wasn't about to begin this year.
Ok, a few of you probably rolled your eyes when I said I wasn't going to train. I admit it. I raced Iron Cross for four hours two weeks before my first true cross race, and also commute to work daily for about 40 minutes each way no matter the weather, and, uh, sometimes do intervals on the way to and from work. And then there's that group rocket ride I did a few weeks back, that 70 mile ride I did with a few teammates, and that century ride to Bear Mtn where I went as hard as possible up every hill...and, yeah, well, you get the point. I stopped doing "structured" intervals but never really stopped riding.
Last weekend I signed up for my first two 'cross races in Jersey. They were part of the MAC series and I was scared shitless I would trip and fall on my face going over the first barrier so I signed up for the 2-3-4 category instead of the UCI elite. So on Saturday, my first race, I nervously lined up with 70 or so other guys in the 2nd to last row and decided I would just have fun and see how things went.
The gun blasted and immediately I forgot the fun part and entered race mode and started sprinting up the side passing a good chunk of people, perhaps 20 or 30. When we hit the...hole shot? I think that's the technical cyclocross term... there was immediately a crash that I managed to avoid, and it was in to the woods we went. I picked off a few guys here and there and was maybe in 30th place.
Then came the sand run. Some guy in front of me hit the sand and face planted. I thought it was hilarious and almost stopped and said so, but decided that would further reduce my tiny fan club when word got out. Running through the sand was an awkward experience. It was deep and very loose. I'd liken the action to cross country skiing. After a few of these, my legs would be screwed, I thought.
After some more trail action next came the dreaded barriers. I went around the corner, hopped off, jumped over them and hopped back on. What the hell? Why do people train for these? Anyways, next was a run up an amphitheater. Huge steps, perhaps a foot and half tall. A bit wider than my stride so I was forced to lope or double step it. I live in a walk up so these were no big deal, but they added some spice to the mix and had me struggling to catch my breath each time I hopped back on the bike.
Eventually I caught the lead group and rode behind them in 5th place. They were going kinda slow but I didn't really know if it was a good idea to go solo so just hung around on the back. We putzed around for a few laps, and it was in to a sharp corner and up the road for a sprint finish. Being in the in very back, I had no time to catch up to the 3 guys who really gunned it. I passed one guy for a stellar 4th place finish.
Woo hah.
Day 2. Still stuck in Jersey, this time a little closer to the city, at HPCX I drew an even more awesome position a few rows deeper in to the masses. 90+ guys lined up to ride around in circles on some grass in a fantastically gorgeous Jersey park. No sand this time. Only those not-so-fearsome barriers where the crowd mingled heckling the riders as they passed.
The gun blasted for the 2nd time in two days in my ears, and more of the same happened. Sprint, pass a bunch of guys, and ride very aggressively passing people as quickly as possible. By the second lap I was with the same lead guys as yesterday. I sat on the back for most the lap recovering and when we hit the small climb I passed all of them and kept the pace high. One guy came with me, and I managed to drop him a few minutes later. I rode the rest of the race solo besides one incident where I crashed going around a corner before the barriers. This enabled me to be caught for a bit but I quickly pulled away again. A few laps later I managed to crash in the exact same spot but was far enough away it didn't matter. After 45 minutes I cruised over the finish line for first place. Anti-climactic...I know.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Neil Pryde Alize Review
Over the past few years, I've ridden a lot of different bicycles. Some people might say too many bikes, and it's gotten to the point now where I just receive a roll of the eyes from the significant other when a big cardboard box magically appears in the home. I generally go through a few frames a year because I'm a total bike geek, and love trying the different and new products that endlessly stream on to the market. I've ridden every material out there and even a few blends. From cheap steel to high end custom steel to ultra butted custom titanium to aluminum or aluminum bonded to carbon tubes to full carbon frame sets. These days it's all about carbon, and I'm finally able to comfortably state that carbon is where it's at. The material is lighter, stronger, stiffer where it needs to be, and smoother riding than any material on the market, and thanks to the diversity of carbon available, it can be manipulated in to nearly any shape and stiffness for that ultimate customized ride.
Recently I received a bike from a new company in the bike market called Neil Pryde Bikes. The company itself is not new, but they are fresh on the bike scene with two models introduced this year named the Alize and the Diablo. Neil Pryde is a respected wind surfing company, and they decided to use their knowledge of carbon fiber and mastery of wind to create a top notch frame set that's ready to compete against the big name manufacturers currently on the market. Both frames appear upon first glance to be very well designed and thought out, and are also comprised of very different carbon tubes. The Alize is the aerodynamic model, and the Diablo is their all around racing model. Both frames were designed in collaboration with BMW USA's design team. They were also tuned in the wind tunnel for optimal aerodynamic performance with data for backup to their claims.
The Alize retails for $2250 and the Diablo $2500 for the frame sets which includes a seat post and headset, and both are available direct through Neil Pryde Bike's website. Either frame can also be purchased as a complete bike with Ultegra or Dura-Ace builds, and come with a strong 10 year warranty. I received my bike via DHL Express, and shipping was incredibly fast. The bike was very well packed as were all the components.
Picking between the two frames was a touch choice. The weight weenie within whispered get the Diablo, while the experienced, practical side said get what you know will help you in those breaks you typically find yourself in - every second counts! So, the aero Alize it is. But, after such a difficult decision there's still more to deal with. Which color do I pick?? Neil Pryde offers three choices for each frame set. One with hints of blue and black and white, another with some red and black and white, and another stealth mostly black. I felt the red, white and black would match nicely with my saddle and a few other choice components so the decision was made. I opted for Dura-Ace. The weight weenie could accept nothing less.
FRAME DETAILS
The Alize frame weighs a little more than the Diablo, roughly 70 grams, coming in at 1040 grams for a 56cm which was the actual weight I got on my scale. I applaud them for this. So many times I've been extremely disappointed with the claimed vs actual weights. The fork on the Alize is slightly heavier than the Diablo fork at 350 grams, a 10 gram weight penalty.
Starting with the head tube (HT), the Alize has a tapered HT going from 1 1/8" up top to 1 1/2" at the bottom. This is to increase stiffness and offer more precise handling. Not only is there tapering, but Neil Pryde has carved out excess material creating an hourglass like shape for the HT when seen from the front. The fork is full carbon, and utilizes something Neil Pryde calls Rib Technology which adds stiffness to the overall design. The Alize fork is an excellent looking design that's not your run of the mill carbon fork. As you will see, this will become a theme throughout the tubes on this bike. A quick glance is not enough to appreciate the fine curves. The front is rounded, then quickly tapers to a ridge in the rear. The lower half of the fork is shaped nicely curving inward to continue the ridge so there is a smooth transition from the top of the fork legs to the dropouts. Another interesting thing to note is the seamless transition from the HT all the way through the fork to it's end. It looks like one piece when looking from above.
The down tube (DT) is a sight to behold. It's shaped to optimize aerodynamics not only from the front but also from the side. It's slightly twisted looking from the HT then terminates in to a very stout looking bottom bracket. Both derailleur cables are routed internally through the DT starting near the HT.
The bottom bracket area is huge. I thought my two previous carbon bikes had beefy looking bottom brackets, but this one makes them look tiny in comparison. It is also nicely shaped and not just a fat, round tube. Just glancing at it you know it's going to be stiff.
The top tube (TT) is flattened on the top and curves to a ridge on the underside. It also tapers from the HT to the seat tube (ST), becoming thinner as it nears the ST. The rear brake is internally routed through the TT.
The seat tube (ST) is another highly manipulated tube. It hugs the rear wheel so air flows right past the tube, and over the tire and rim to carry on with limited resistance. The tube is also tweaked above and is angled and tapered giving the appearance it will slice right through the wind. The seat collar is integrated and works as it should. I've experienced no slipping of the seat post. A very thoughtful addition above the seat collar is something Neil Pryde calls "QFIT." Whenever the seat post is removed or adjusted, the grey rubber piece stays on the seat post where the post is currently set so you always have a point of reference to work with for saddle height. No more inaccurate measuring!
The seat stays are shaped similar to the fork being rounded in the front and tapering to the rear. Again, heavy manipulation of the tubing is apparent. The transition from the seat stay to the chain stay is yet another area that clearly looks like thought was put in to the design. Often, I see ugly connections here, but the Neil Pryde Alize is rounded and smooth and very clean looking.
The chain stays are very large and rectangular shaped near the bottom bracket and gradually taper as the tube approaches the dropout, but retains the rectangular shape throughout. Roughly halfway back on the chain stay, the tube is carved out on the bottom half leading towards the edge.
The frame set comes with Neil Pryde's own aero seat post. It's slightly setback and offers very simple adjustment similar to other posts I've seen with a bolt up front that adjusts the saddle angle while the rear tightens it down. The post is carbon and is aero shaped. It's blade-like in appearance and quite thin. Compared to other seat posts I've used, I see less flex in this particular design. I generally see a good amount of flex in most posts under heavy pedaling probably due to the fact I have a large amount of post showing compensating for my long inseam. Also included with the frameset is an FSA carbon fiber headset and matching carbon spacers.
Like I mentioned before, I chose the Dura-Ace 7900 build but opted for a few of my own substitutions. I'm using my own saddle - selle san marco mantra carbon fx, wheels - Hed c2 bastogne, and I also used my own cranks - sram s900 w/ quarq - since I use a power meter. The cockpit is comprised of FSA SL-K parts. The stem has a chunky looking carbon face plate and the matching bar is compact. The bar I find particularly nice. I've never used a bar with a slightly flatted top portion and find it very natural feeling and more comfortable than a round bar. Excellent for long climbs. The drops are round throughout, and offer an easy reach to the brake lever. The overall build came to just shy of 16 pounds.
The paint job on this bike is incredible. Every tube has something interesting going on and the more you study it the more you see they actually took time to make this bike good looking. There are pin stripes and panels and other minute details that create an overall eye catching tastefully done design. Everywhere I go on this bike I find people staring at it, and if they get the chance they inevitably start asking questions about the brand, and it's origin and design. I've ridden tons of bikes and this has never happened before on such a regular basis!
The Ride
None of the above matters if the bike doesn't do what it's supposed to do. I've had the pleasure of putting about 500 miles on this bike over the past week and a half. The pedigree of this bike quickly became evident over the first few miles. This bike is made to be ridden fast, taken over the biggest climbs then pointed straight down and tossed in to corners at incredibly high speeds, and, finally, exposed to huge wattage (not mine!) as you sprint for the finish. At all of the above does this bike perform exceedingly well, but to be fair, my sprint is a mere 1250w max so take that for what it's worth. The bike feels incredibly responsive and smooth and I've no regrets with my choice of the Alize.
The first thing I noticed on this bike is the handling in the front end area around the HT and fork. It feels noticeably stiffer and more precise handling than previous bikes I've ridden. This rigid precision inspires confidence during high speed descents and truly earns that coveted line "it corners like it's on rails!" I've had this bike running at speeds up to 60mph on curvy, high speed descents and it never felt like I was pushing it too hard. Extremely stable, always, and ready for even more.
Last Saturday I went for a 70 mile ride and was exposed to extremely gusty winds. The bike gives the impression it's slicing through the wind instead of being caught and picked up by it. And it wasn't something that just "felt" that way. I could even see a difference when my teammates would get blown around a bit more than I. We were all on shallow rim wheels with the same components and we are even roughly the same size at 6' tall and 150 to 160 pounds.
Yesterday on a beautiful fall day, I took the bike for a 100 mile ride with 6,000ft of climbing on the epic NYC ride to Bear Mountain. I finished in high spirits and in great comfort after pushing the Alize to it's limits on a big descent off Bear Mtn and over the rolling hills of New Jersey and New York.
Overall, it's been a joy to ride this carbon wonder bike, and I can't wait to terrorize the race circuit next year aboard the Alize. Every year technology advances, and some companies manage to embrace and utilize it properly. The Neil Pryde Bikes company is one of them. They deserve a strong consideration for your next bike.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Iron Cross VIII race report
This weekend my wife and I headed out to Pennsylvania for some camping and 'cross racing. The race was called Iron Cross and it's billed as "America's longest cyclocross race" at 63 miles. I didn't do much (none) research to confirm that claim, but since most races are usually an hour long there's a good chance this ~4hr minimum race is what it says it is.
We decided to camp for a final dose of nature before the cold winter settled in the Northeast so we stayed at Mountain Creek campgrounds about 1.5 miles from the start of the race. It was a mix of mostly motor homes and trailers with what appeared to be people actually living in the trailers year round - wasn't confirmed though - and a small tents only section on an island surrounded by a forked stream. Our little backpacking tent did not fit in but no one bothered us so all was good.
Stinky pink. That's the name of the color on my Specialized Crux cross bike I built up and finished Friday evening, the day before we headed to PA. I hoped it fit and functioned properly. I ride a 56cm road bike so bought a 56cm specialized frameset. Later, after ordering, I found out often times 'cross bikes are sized 2cm smaller. Oops. I decided to stick with the decision since I saw the geometry and it looked OK, and I have really long legs so even if it was more like a 58cm I'd be OK. Luckily Specialized sizes their 'cross bike by the TT length so the bike fit exactly as anticipated and minimal adjustments were needed to make it work. I moved most the parts over from the Champion System bike so it was decked out in full dura-ace 7900 with an ultegra crankset. I decided to convert the Ksyrium Elite wheels to tubeless with Vittoria XG pro tires even though I read lots of negative posts on forums regarding 'cross setups tubeless. I've always enjoyed jumping in head first to events like this with minimal preparation and learning to swim. In an event like this I'd manage to iron out any sizing, body, or bike kinks and be ready to kick some butt at those silly 1 hour 'cross races coming up.
Sunday AM at 9 was the designated start time for Iron cross rev VIII. It was a balmy 40F upon waking at 7am. I wolfed down some granola and half a PB&J then prepped my bottles and food for the race. By 8:30 I was idling about in the sunshine near the start, staying reasonably warm, and mentally preparing myself for what was sure to be an epic event. Shortly before 9am, the race announcer explained how we would be starting, and tried to convince the slowest riders to go in the back and allow the faster riders to start up front. It seemed to work. I was a few rows back on the gravel road and it turned out to be a non-issue. The start was unusual, to say the least. We went through "the death spiral" before heading out on the course. What the hell is a death spiral??? Yeah, well, it's the weirdest thing I've ever had to ride through and I hope I get to do it again. Near where the race started there's a large field, a bit smaller than a football field, and it was completely taped off with a giant spiral which started us from the outside and worked it's way to a small middle then spit us out the side and sent us on our way. To my amazement, it really worked. I expected mass mayhem, but it was fluid and surreal and really cool seeing hundreds of bikers going in all different directions all at the same time.
After the death spiral, we popped on to a gravel road. I was in the lead group of about 20 riders and we were going at a pace that's...not the same as what I've been experiencing in cat 1 road races. It felt lethargic and my itchy trigger foot wanted to GO! So eventually I decided to hop on the front and upped the pace to around my own FTP. It quickly chopped the 20 or so riders down to around 10. We then rode through a beach...yes, really, a beach that had water bordering it, and everything else a beach usually touts. We wobbled and slid our way through the sand for 100m and the few riders still with us on mountain bikes floated over the sand and pulled away. Fortunately, after that we were back on fire roads for what was to be the first climb of the day. At only a few miles climb, it was easy in comparison to what was to come, but the pace stayed high and riders fell off one after another. By the top, it was down to about 6 riders and two of them were on mtb's. One a full suspension 29er.
After the climb we had a ripping descent on gravel/road and had a few rolling hills on road through farm land. We were down to 5 by this time I think. It was then we hit one of the bigger climbs which was also the KOM/QOM of the day. This was a longer grind of 4 or 5 miles but not terribly steep. I broke away with one other guy and we kept a steady pace a little below my threshold and crossed the KOM together at the top. He sprinted right before the line so got the KOM - had I known it was the KOM at the time, I probably would've tried as well. He then immediately dropped off during the descent and when I noticed I was alone I thought I had maybe missed a turn. I stopped, checked the situation, turned around and started riding back down the trail, and then almost immediately saw the few others who had crested the climb near us. I turned back around and soft pedaled and let them catch me and hopped back in to the line.
We rode together for the next few miles before the notorious very technical single track descent called Lippencote trail. I had read on a few blogs that this trail was treacherous on a cross bike, and have to mostly agree. It was certainly challenging, and not ideal with skinny tires and poor brakes on a drop bar. The two guys on the mtb's blasted by us weenies on the cross bikes and we didn't see them again until a few miles later. I went down fairly fast, and felt comfortable until a really steep and rocky section. This is where I developed a new technique, for me anyways, of using the front brake on the hood with a few fingers, and having my right hand locked around the hood with a death grip not using the rear brake. The trail was very technical with no clear line through the rocks, and I was going too fast to control my bike, so I was forced to grab what little front brake I could in a desperate attempt to keep the bike's speed under control while the right hand kept me a bit under control and pointed in the proper direction. It worked and I didn't crash. I came very close a few times to doing a superman over the bars, though. After clearing this nasty section it was back to some nice, smooth asphalt.
I emerged with one other cross biker, a guy by the name of Gary Pflug who's apparently notorious for kicking butt on a single speed on the NUE 100 mile mtb series, and we worked together to catch those pesky mtb'ers. It was easy. After 5 or so minutes we were back together along with one other cross biker who had managed to catch up as well. And then another gravel road climb began. One of the mtb'ers appeared to have run out of steam and he dropped away never to be seen. And then there were four.
During the climb, we 'cross bikers managed to dump the last mtb'er, temporarily, and it was up to us three to hold it to the finish. After the climb, I recall another ripping fast gravel descent. We then hit a double track trail and I saw way up high some power lines and a wall of rock and I could only come to the conclusion that this was the famed "wigwam" run up. Run up is laughable, truly a joke, and if you run up this you are a better man than I or the three others with me. We walked. Pflug had a trick up his sleeve, literally, a small pad stuck to his shoulder, I learned later on and moved a bit faster than us but not enough to worry anyone. Me and the other crosser kept the same pace while the mtb'er fell behind due to his bulky bike. So, this trail was a true hiking trail. There's no way you could ride up it seeing it was around a 40% grade. It was nearly vertical with loose gravel, sand and rock completely exposed to the sun and nearly a half mile long. If you were having problems before this climb, I'm sure they were suddenly amplified by 10. Quads tight? Let the cramps begin! Dehydrated? now you are truly sweating! I ambled on up the hill feeling decent, but hot from the sun, and finally hit a section that was ridable. It descended a bit then hit some sand so I got to slide around a bit before hitting another walkup. Up top were some folks heckling us or cheering us a long, however your mood is probably how you perceived it, and it was also a checkpoint with a bag drop so I resupplied my ammo.
Me and the other cross bike guy high tailed it after Mr Pflug and caught him fairly fast. The three of us rode together descending a nice gravel section and eventually came to another single track secition.
Now, this is true single track we speak of. Not some wimpy, smooth cruise with grandpa on a groomed gravel path. This trail was ideal for a mountain bike. Not A 32c cross tire with a gearing of 38x26. The three of us plugged along at a grumpy pace weaving and dodging all the nasty terrain. I was number two in line behind Mr Pflug, and at some point we lost number three. I learned after the race his wheel got messed up and then he flatted. So, and then there were two. We trucked along through the single track getting bounced all over the place, climbing the majority of the time, and eventually popped out on a gravel road. Ahead of us was another wicked descent.
I followed my partner in crime for a little while, and the pitch really went DOWN so I let go of the brakes and flew past him. After a minute or so I turned around and he was gone. Hmm. I know I didn't miss a turn since I was still passing arrows marking the course, so I figured he got a flat or crashed. After the descent I saw my moto pace dirt biker and told him he disappeared. He quickly rode back up and found out he flatted while I continued on a rolling paved road through the middle of nowhere country farms. And then there was one.
So, I'm all alone out front in a cross race on a bike I've ridden never before in a position I definitely did not expect to be in. Before this race I was just hoping to finish, and if I finished I was hoping for top twenty. I had not ridden at all for nearly a month and was unsure how my endurance would stack up against guys training specifically for this race. Never mind the fact I hadn't been on a trail since last August when I broke my ribs. Anyways...
I failed to mention, about an hour before this point my legs felt like cramps were coming their way. They never came out in full force but were a presence off and on. As I rode along the rolling road, I felt twinges here and there but nothing significant manifested so all seemed OK. I could not go as fast as I would have liked, but what can you do?? At some point I came across a check point and refueled and was told I was in store for a five mile climb up a gravel road. O, Joy. This climb was a true grind with my gearing. It was really steep, repetitively, and I was spinning away at a ridiculously low leg press-like cadence. Near the top I was caught by the eventual winner. We rode together for a while until he pulled away, and I apparently kept him within about a minute of me till about 8 miles to go before that dreaded section of single track and that even nastier walkup (run up!) and that extra gravel climb and then that rolling....yeah. Get the point? truly epic!
Again, I was all alone, this time in 2nd place. All alone in the woods with nothing but a tiny yellow sign and black arrow pointing me which direction to go. Had they not been there, I'd have been totally lost. That's how dense these trails were. At some points, I had to get off my bike and look around as no discernible trail was in sight. Had a few others gone through, it probably would've been easier, but I was numero dos, and things were very clean still. I hopped around, suffered around, cleared a million logs, hopped off and jumped over a few logs, nailed a few billion rocks, rode through a few creeks and got wet and muddy. It was awesome.
At some point, I emerged from this moving experience, and came upon the final run up. I walked it. I was hot, miserable, and didn't really care at this point. I felt sick having developed a cough and my stomach was a bit queasy. I was passed by a cross biker, and then by the full suspension mtb'er before emerging from the jungle and near the home stretch. All that was left were some rolling gravel hills and a final road section and the game was over!
I pedaled along at a less than ideal pace, and eventually came to the road where I saw my wife cheering me along, a big surprise, what was she doing there?, and I hit the road. I did not try very hard to go fast as there was no one in site in either direction. I limped along at a respectable pace and finished alone four minutes behind first place and a minute behind 2nd and 3rd for a 4th place finish around 4 hours and 7 minutes.
Overall, Iron Cross was a great experience. I hope I can do it again! The race organization was impressive from start to finish. The course markings were flawless, and the moto pacer was a huge help. If you like to suffer and own a cross bike make a note to DO THIS RACE next year. You won't regret it.
We decided to camp for a final dose of nature before the cold winter settled in the Northeast so we stayed at Mountain Creek campgrounds about 1.5 miles from the start of the race. It was a mix of mostly motor homes and trailers with what appeared to be people actually living in the trailers year round - wasn't confirmed though - and a small tents only section on an island surrounded by a forked stream. Our little backpacking tent did not fit in but no one bothered us so all was good.
Stinky pink. That's the name of the color on my Specialized Crux cross bike I built up and finished Friday evening, the day before we headed to PA. I hoped it fit and functioned properly. I ride a 56cm road bike so bought a 56cm specialized frameset. Later, after ordering, I found out often times 'cross bikes are sized 2cm smaller. Oops. I decided to stick with the decision since I saw the geometry and it looked OK, and I have really long legs so even if it was more like a 58cm I'd be OK. Luckily Specialized sizes their 'cross bike by the TT length so the bike fit exactly as anticipated and minimal adjustments were needed to make it work. I moved most the parts over from the Champion System bike so it was decked out in full dura-ace 7900 with an ultegra crankset. I decided to convert the Ksyrium Elite wheels to tubeless with Vittoria XG pro tires even though I read lots of negative posts on forums regarding 'cross setups tubeless. I've always enjoyed jumping in head first to events like this with minimal preparation and learning to swim. In an event like this I'd manage to iron out any sizing, body, or bike kinks and be ready to kick some butt at those silly 1 hour 'cross races coming up.
Sunday AM at 9 was the designated start time for Iron cross rev VIII. It was a balmy 40F upon waking at 7am. I wolfed down some granola and half a PB&J then prepped my bottles and food for the race. By 8:30 I was idling about in the sunshine near the start, staying reasonably warm, and mentally preparing myself for what was sure to be an epic event. Shortly before 9am, the race announcer explained how we would be starting, and tried to convince the slowest riders to go in the back and allow the faster riders to start up front. It seemed to work. I was a few rows back on the gravel road and it turned out to be a non-issue. The start was unusual, to say the least. We went through "the death spiral" before heading out on the course. What the hell is a death spiral??? Yeah, well, it's the weirdest thing I've ever had to ride through and I hope I get to do it again. Near where the race started there's a large field, a bit smaller than a football field, and it was completely taped off with a giant spiral which started us from the outside and worked it's way to a small middle then spit us out the side and sent us on our way. To my amazement, it really worked. I expected mass mayhem, but it was fluid and surreal and really cool seeing hundreds of bikers going in all different directions all at the same time.
After the death spiral, we popped on to a gravel road. I was in the lead group of about 20 riders and we were going at a pace that's...not the same as what I've been experiencing in cat 1 road races. It felt lethargic and my itchy trigger foot wanted to GO! So eventually I decided to hop on the front and upped the pace to around my own FTP. It quickly chopped the 20 or so riders down to around 10. We then rode through a beach...yes, really, a beach that had water bordering it, and everything else a beach usually touts. We wobbled and slid our way through the sand for 100m and the few riders still with us on mountain bikes floated over the sand and pulled away. Fortunately, after that we were back on fire roads for what was to be the first climb of the day. At only a few miles climb, it was easy in comparison to what was to come, but the pace stayed high and riders fell off one after another. By the top, it was down to about 6 riders and two of them were on mtb's. One a full suspension 29er.
After the climb we had a ripping descent on gravel/road and had a few rolling hills on road through farm land. We were down to 5 by this time I think. It was then we hit one of the bigger climbs which was also the KOM/QOM of the day. This was a longer grind of 4 or 5 miles but not terribly steep. I broke away with one other guy and we kept a steady pace a little below my threshold and crossed the KOM together at the top. He sprinted right before the line so got the KOM - had I known it was the KOM at the time, I probably would've tried as well. He then immediately dropped off during the descent and when I noticed I was alone I thought I had maybe missed a turn. I stopped, checked the situation, turned around and started riding back down the trail, and then almost immediately saw the few others who had crested the climb near us. I turned back around and soft pedaled and let them catch me and hopped back in to the line.
We rode together for the next few miles before the notorious very technical single track descent called Lippencote trail. I had read on a few blogs that this trail was treacherous on a cross bike, and have to mostly agree. It was certainly challenging, and not ideal with skinny tires and poor brakes on a drop bar. The two guys on the mtb's blasted by us weenies on the cross bikes and we didn't see them again until a few miles later. I went down fairly fast, and felt comfortable until a really steep and rocky section. This is where I developed a new technique, for me anyways, of using the front brake on the hood with a few fingers, and having my right hand locked around the hood with a death grip not using the rear brake. The trail was very technical with no clear line through the rocks, and I was going too fast to control my bike, so I was forced to grab what little front brake I could in a desperate attempt to keep the bike's speed under control while the right hand kept me a bit under control and pointed in the proper direction. It worked and I didn't crash. I came very close a few times to doing a superman over the bars, though. After clearing this nasty section it was back to some nice, smooth asphalt.
I emerged with one other cross biker, a guy by the name of Gary Pflug who's apparently notorious for kicking butt on a single speed on the NUE 100 mile mtb series, and we worked together to catch those pesky mtb'ers. It was easy. After 5 or so minutes we were back together along with one other cross biker who had managed to catch up as well. And then another gravel road climb began. One of the mtb'ers appeared to have run out of steam and he dropped away never to be seen. And then there were four.
During the climb, we 'cross bikers managed to dump the last mtb'er, temporarily, and it was up to us three to hold it to the finish. After the climb, I recall another ripping fast gravel descent. We then hit a double track trail and I saw way up high some power lines and a wall of rock and I could only come to the conclusion that this was the famed "wigwam" run up. Run up is laughable, truly a joke, and if you run up this you are a better man than I or the three others with me. We walked. Pflug had a trick up his sleeve, literally, a small pad stuck to his shoulder, I learned later on and moved a bit faster than us but not enough to worry anyone. Me and the other crosser kept the same pace while the mtb'er fell behind due to his bulky bike. So, this trail was a true hiking trail. There's no way you could ride up it seeing it was around a 40% grade. It was nearly vertical with loose gravel, sand and rock completely exposed to the sun and nearly a half mile long. If you were having problems before this climb, I'm sure they were suddenly amplified by 10. Quads tight? Let the cramps begin! Dehydrated? now you are truly sweating! I ambled on up the hill feeling decent, but hot from the sun, and finally hit a section that was ridable. It descended a bit then hit some sand so I got to slide around a bit before hitting another walkup. Up top were some folks heckling us or cheering us a long, however your mood is probably how you perceived it, and it was also a checkpoint with a bag drop so I resupplied my ammo.
Me and the other cross bike guy high tailed it after Mr Pflug and caught him fairly fast. The three of us rode together descending a nice gravel section and eventually came to another single track secition.
Now, this is true single track we speak of. Not some wimpy, smooth cruise with grandpa on a groomed gravel path. This trail was ideal for a mountain bike. Not A 32c cross tire with a gearing of 38x26. The three of us plugged along at a grumpy pace weaving and dodging all the nasty terrain. I was number two in line behind Mr Pflug, and at some point we lost number three. I learned after the race his wheel got messed up and then he flatted. So, and then there were two. We trucked along through the single track getting bounced all over the place, climbing the majority of the time, and eventually popped out on a gravel road. Ahead of us was another wicked descent.
I followed my partner in crime for a little while, and the pitch really went DOWN so I let go of the brakes and flew past him. After a minute or so I turned around and he was gone. Hmm. I know I didn't miss a turn since I was still passing arrows marking the course, so I figured he got a flat or crashed. After the descent I saw my moto pace dirt biker and told him he disappeared. He quickly rode back up and found out he flatted while I continued on a rolling paved road through the middle of nowhere country farms. And then there was one.
So, I'm all alone out front in a cross race on a bike I've ridden never before in a position I definitely did not expect to be in. Before this race I was just hoping to finish, and if I finished I was hoping for top twenty. I had not ridden at all for nearly a month and was unsure how my endurance would stack up against guys training specifically for this race. Never mind the fact I hadn't been on a trail since last August when I broke my ribs. Anyways...
I failed to mention, about an hour before this point my legs felt like cramps were coming their way. They never came out in full force but were a presence off and on. As I rode along the rolling road, I felt twinges here and there but nothing significant manifested so all seemed OK. I could not go as fast as I would have liked, but what can you do?? At some point I came across a check point and refueled and was told I was in store for a five mile climb up a gravel road. O, Joy. This climb was a true grind with my gearing. It was really steep, repetitively, and I was spinning away at a ridiculously low leg press-like cadence. Near the top I was caught by the eventual winner. We rode together for a while until he pulled away, and I apparently kept him within about a minute of me till about 8 miles to go before that dreaded section of single track and that even nastier walkup (run up!) and that extra gravel climb and then that rolling....yeah. Get the point? truly epic!
Again, I was all alone, this time in 2nd place. All alone in the woods with nothing but a tiny yellow sign and black arrow pointing me which direction to go. Had they not been there, I'd have been totally lost. That's how dense these trails were. At some points, I had to get off my bike and look around as no discernible trail was in sight. Had a few others gone through, it probably would've been easier, but I was numero dos, and things were very clean still. I hopped around, suffered around, cleared a million logs, hopped off and jumped over a few logs, nailed a few billion rocks, rode through a few creeks and got wet and muddy. It was awesome.
At some point, I emerged from this moving experience, and came upon the final run up. I walked it. I was hot, miserable, and didn't really care at this point. I felt sick having developed a cough and my stomach was a bit queasy. I was passed by a cross biker, and then by the full suspension mtb'er before emerging from the jungle and near the home stretch. All that was left were some rolling gravel hills and a final road section and the game was over!
I pedaled along at a less than ideal pace, and eventually came to the road where I saw my wife cheering me along, a big surprise, what was she doing there?, and I hit the road. I did not try very hard to go fast as there was no one in site in either direction. I limped along at a respectable pace and finished alone four minutes behind first place and a minute behind 2nd and 3rd for a 4th place finish around 4 hours and 7 minutes.
Overall, Iron Cross was a great experience. I hope I can do it again! The race organization was impressive from start to finish. The course markings were flawless, and the moto pacer was a huge help. If you like to suffer and own a cross bike make a note to DO THIS RACE next year. You won't regret it.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Capital Region Road Race Report
Another race of attrition is under the belt, this time with a dropout rate of greater than 50%. Why? The race was only 83 miles with about 5k of climbing. It wasn't very hot, around 85F peak, and humidity was tolerable. The wind...I hate the...yeah, well it was there and very noticeable for half the race course. The hills were steep and packed tightly together during the first 7 miles of the course. A twenty mile loop took us on a tour of the northern Catskills near an industrial looking town named Ravena in New York. We were north of the big mountains but there were hills aplenty, and we managed to hit a few of the good ones. One climb was a 15% switchback for about a half mile that we had to go over 4 times during the course of the race. The other notable climb was not as steep but still no cakewalk, and was twice as long as, if not even more than, the steep one. They came one after another leaving no time for recovery. The second half of the course was wide open and rolling with a stiff headwind blowing straight in our faces. What could've been a very fast and somewhat easy second half turned out, for me at least, to be even more difficult than the hills.
I toed the line with a few of the usual suspects, a smaller group than normal with about 40 starters, but the ones there were all solid racers. Roger Aspholm was the obvious choice for who to watch and follow. An incredible cyclist at the age of 42, he is consistently cleaning up at any race where endurance reigns supreme. I chatted with him for the first few miles about cyclocross racing and his future race plans, and after the 3 mile neutral start we were off. The group stayed together for the first lap but it was clear when and where everything would fall apart, at least to me. Roger said we should attack on the two big hills on the 2nd lap to ween the pack some and I agreed. Coming in to the longer climb, the first of the two tougher ones, I stood up and cranked up the power for about one minute then eased back to a still high pace but sustainable for a longer period of time. About 10 others came with me including Roger while the rest of the pack dropped away. We quickly built a gap, and going in to the 2nd climb we upped the pace again. This shed about 5 more riders leaving 5 in total.
We worked together for the remainder of lap two with the exception of one guy who tried to get a free ride in the rear. Going in to lap three Roger attacked on the hills. He went away with one other guy but didn't get far away from the rest of us. I was thinking maybe he should get away and he'll get tired and since we had the numbers we would catch him later on. Going in to the second climb, the other guy with him fell off and back to us so Roger was on his own. I really didn't think he'd be able to stay away for over a lap by himself. We worked together well for most the 3rd lap then it all started to fall apart. We still had the guy not wanting to help, and now everyone else, including me, was starting to feel the wear and tear of hard climbing and windy rollers. The chase fell apart with Roger off the front by over a minute. Going in to the 4th lap's 2nd, steeper, hill I turned around and saw another chase group of about 6 riders. They looked fresh compared to us, and quickly caught up. We rode together as a nice group of 10 riders and now I thought Roger would be caught. Going in to the rollers 3 broke away while I was at the very rear of the group. My legs were pretty beat at this point, dehydration was taking it's tool, and it didn't seem like I'd catch them so I decided to just stay where I was. A few miles later 3 more went off leaving four of us. We limped our way to the finish and gave a half hearted sprint at the line and crossed at roughly the same time about two minutes behind Roger who managed to solo and take the win. Very impressive!
This race was tough. From registering to racing to results the event was handled perfectly. The power meter software says the effort required was even greater than the previous weeks Tokeneke race.
Stats copied from Golden Cheetah software:
Totals
Duration: 3:37:48
Time Riding: 3:36:24
Distance (miles): 81.9 (forget to start it until a bit in to the neutral beginning)
Work (kJ): 3548
Elevation Gain (feet): 4724
Averages
Speed (mph): 22.7
Power (watts): 272
Cadence (rpm): 93
Metrics
xPower (watts): 311 (similar or same as normalized power)
Relative Intensity: 0.840
BikeScore™: 256
Daniels Points: 181
I toed the line with a few of the usual suspects, a smaller group than normal with about 40 starters, but the ones there were all solid racers. Roger Aspholm was the obvious choice for who to watch and follow. An incredible cyclist at the age of 42, he is consistently cleaning up at any race where endurance reigns supreme. I chatted with him for the first few miles about cyclocross racing and his future race plans, and after the 3 mile neutral start we were off. The group stayed together for the first lap but it was clear when and where everything would fall apart, at least to me. Roger said we should attack on the two big hills on the 2nd lap to ween the pack some and I agreed. Coming in to the longer climb, the first of the two tougher ones, I stood up and cranked up the power for about one minute then eased back to a still high pace but sustainable for a longer period of time. About 10 others came with me including Roger while the rest of the pack dropped away. We quickly built a gap, and going in to the 2nd climb we upped the pace again. This shed about 5 more riders leaving 5 in total.
We worked together for the remainder of lap two with the exception of one guy who tried to get a free ride in the rear. Going in to lap three Roger attacked on the hills. He went away with one other guy but didn't get far away from the rest of us. I was thinking maybe he should get away and he'll get tired and since we had the numbers we would catch him later on. Going in to the second climb, the other guy with him fell off and back to us so Roger was on his own. I really didn't think he'd be able to stay away for over a lap by himself. We worked together well for most the 3rd lap then it all started to fall apart. We still had the guy not wanting to help, and now everyone else, including me, was starting to feel the wear and tear of hard climbing and windy rollers. The chase fell apart with Roger off the front by over a minute. Going in to the 4th lap's 2nd, steeper, hill I turned around and saw another chase group of about 6 riders. They looked fresh compared to us, and quickly caught up. We rode together as a nice group of 10 riders and now I thought Roger would be caught. Going in to the rollers 3 broke away while I was at the very rear of the group. My legs were pretty beat at this point, dehydration was taking it's tool, and it didn't seem like I'd catch them so I decided to just stay where I was. A few miles later 3 more went off leaving four of us. We limped our way to the finish and gave a half hearted sprint at the line and crossed at roughly the same time about two minutes behind Roger who managed to solo and take the win. Very impressive!
This race was tough. From registering to racing to results the event was handled perfectly. The power meter software says the effort required was even greater than the previous weeks Tokeneke race.
Stats copied from Golden Cheetah software:
Totals
Duration: 3:37:48
Time Riding: 3:36:24
Distance (miles): 81.9 (forget to start it until a bit in to the neutral beginning)
Work (kJ): 3548
Elevation Gain (feet): 4724
Averages
Speed (mph): 22.7
Power (watts): 272
Cadence (rpm): 93
Metrics
xPower (watts): 311 (similar or same as normalized power)
Relative Intensity: 0.840
BikeScore™: 256
Daniels Points: 181
Monday, August 9, 2010
Tokeneke Road Race Report 2010
Starting with this past weekend, and for the next few weeks, I'm in experimental territory, or perhaps it's normal (this is all new to me!) and I'm just fine tuning for the Green Mountain Stage Race coming up over labor day weekend. This weekend started out with a a 2.5 ride on Saturday with 2x10 at what we think is my threshold (since learned it's a bit higher) and then 1 hour at 320-330 watts with a few breaks mixed in to make the hour a bit more enjoyable. On Sunday, I headed up to East Hartland, CT for a race where I was supposed to break away early and hammer away until I couldn't hammer any longer - hopefully that's at the end of the race!
The distance was 66 miles with about 6,000ft of climbing on roads ranging from smooth to very bumpy. Fortunately the bumpy roads were mostly climbs. It seemed to me like the race would be very similar to the Pawling Mtn Road Race I did about a month ago, but with a deeper, stronger field. The course was basically down a hill then up a smaller hill then back down then up a bigger hill then back down then up a big hill then back down. Repeat 3 times.
My lovely wife, looking dapper in her new hat, was there to feed me bottles so I was able to have a nice, cool, fresh bottle each lap! Very much appreciated and it’s noticeably more refreshing to have a cold liquid entering the system. The race started with the sun at its hottest, around 12:55 with temps in the low 80s. I was near the front from the beginning, and had plans to up the pace at the first big climb and see who decided to come along with me. When we hit the first long climb I cranked it up to about 450 watts, in retrospect probably too high, and quickly separated the field. A four man break was formed with me, Emerson Oronte from Team Ora, Justin Lindine from BikeReg, and Jeremy Powers from Jelly Belly. I’ve raced against all these guys a few times now and Emerson I knew to be as strong or stronger than me over a long, hilly endurance based course. Jeremy I knew would eventually drop off – something I should’ve dwelled upon a bit during the start of the break – and Justin was the wild card although I knew he was a strong rider in the hills.
We worked well together, non-stop cranking out the power, and Jeremy was the first to pop leaving us after the first lap. That left the three of us so almost no time for recovery and the course was such that it required nearly constantly pedaling even on the descents. The pace was incredibly high. My average watts for the first 44 miles, about two hours, was 373! I was pretty sure I could not maintain that pace for much longer, and was also wondering how the hell the two of them were managing it, too. Emerson seemed strong and Justin I could not tell. I was beginning to struggle to maintain the pace and was wondering how long I could hold on. Sure enough about eight miles in to the last lap we hit the steep, short hill and my legs said no mas. I was still able to hold about 300+ watts ascending, but I needed 400+ to stick with the two of them. They quickly pulled away and I was on my own. After about 5 minutes I was caught by the chase group of roughly 10 guys. I hopped on the back and was looking for a free ride to the finish. I felt like crap. I managed to stick with them and had enough time to recover so when they quickened the pace I could still hold on. We hit the last climb and there appeared to be no one in site behind us so I just plugged along at a comfortable pace not contesting for 7th place. I’m not sure I could’ve had I wanted to, but I didn’t try. I was shelled. A few guys dropped off but the majority were relatively fresh and pulled away a bit. I finished. That’s about all I can say about that! I was glad it was over.
In retrospect, I see a few things I should’ve considered during the race, and think I could’ve done better had things gone differently. One, when I saw Jeremy was one of the guys in the break I should’ve thought ahead and known he would not be able to hang with us in the hills, so did I want to ride with just two others for 50+ miles at a very high pace? I think it may have been better to ride with them a bit to set them up enough where they would not want to drop back then just fall off the pace and return to the chase group. There I could’ve drafted most the race and really cranked it up in the last 10 miles. We almost caught the two of them near the end so I think I may have been able to do more damage and even pass them for the win. But, it didn’t happen and of course this is only speculation so who knows how it would’ve turned out. Two, I have this fancy power meter so I should pay more attention to it. I know what I’m capable of for an hour at full speed, although perhaps that needs a minor adjustment after yesterdays performance, but, anyways, when I’m running at 100%+ going on two hours I should sit back and think, hey, wait a second, you can’t do this for another 45 minutes!! After the first lap average of 380w, and still only a less than two minute gap on the chase group, I think, again, it would’ve been smart to just fall back to the chase group. With just the two of them out front they would’ve had to work even harder to stay away. And, finally, a major factor to my petering out, perhaps even the factor, was my nutrition. I did not consume enough calories the day before the race for a few reasons, and then I did not consume enough for the first hour of the race. I must focus on calorie consumption in the future!
So that’s it. I’m glad I went, I learned more, and got a great workout that should only make me stronger. Normalized power of 330 watts for 3 hours. 50 watt drop due to the last 45 minutes of poking around the roads of East Hartland, drafting, struggling to maintain even that connection to the guy in front!
An addendum to this, a few hours after writing the bulk of this report, after speaking with my coach, it's been pretty much confirmed nutrition was my downfall and not my legs or the high, constant power output.
The distance was 66 miles with about 6,000ft of climbing on roads ranging from smooth to very bumpy. Fortunately the bumpy roads were mostly climbs. It seemed to me like the race would be very similar to the Pawling Mtn Road Race I did about a month ago, but with a deeper, stronger field. The course was basically down a hill then up a smaller hill then back down then up a bigger hill then back down then up a big hill then back down. Repeat 3 times.
My lovely wife, looking dapper in her new hat, was there to feed me bottles so I was able to have a nice, cool, fresh bottle each lap! Very much appreciated and it’s noticeably more refreshing to have a cold liquid entering the system. The race started with the sun at its hottest, around 12:55 with temps in the low 80s. I was near the front from the beginning, and had plans to up the pace at the first big climb and see who decided to come along with me. When we hit the first long climb I cranked it up to about 450 watts, in retrospect probably too high, and quickly separated the field. A four man break was formed with me, Emerson Oronte from Team Ora, Justin Lindine from BikeReg, and Jeremy Powers from Jelly Belly. I’ve raced against all these guys a few times now and Emerson I knew to be as strong or stronger than me over a long, hilly endurance based course. Jeremy I knew would eventually drop off – something I should’ve dwelled upon a bit during the start of the break – and Justin was the wild card although I knew he was a strong rider in the hills.
We worked well together, non-stop cranking out the power, and Jeremy was the first to pop leaving us after the first lap. That left the three of us so almost no time for recovery and the course was such that it required nearly constantly pedaling even on the descents. The pace was incredibly high. My average watts for the first 44 miles, about two hours, was 373! I was pretty sure I could not maintain that pace for much longer, and was also wondering how the hell the two of them were managing it, too. Emerson seemed strong and Justin I could not tell. I was beginning to struggle to maintain the pace and was wondering how long I could hold on. Sure enough about eight miles in to the last lap we hit the steep, short hill and my legs said no mas. I was still able to hold about 300+ watts ascending, but I needed 400+ to stick with the two of them. They quickly pulled away and I was on my own. After about 5 minutes I was caught by the chase group of roughly 10 guys. I hopped on the back and was looking for a free ride to the finish. I felt like crap. I managed to stick with them and had enough time to recover so when they quickened the pace I could still hold on. We hit the last climb and there appeared to be no one in site behind us so I just plugged along at a comfortable pace not contesting for 7th place. I’m not sure I could’ve had I wanted to, but I didn’t try. I was shelled. A few guys dropped off but the majority were relatively fresh and pulled away a bit. I finished. That’s about all I can say about that! I was glad it was over.
In retrospect, I see a few things I should’ve considered during the race, and think I could’ve done better had things gone differently. One, when I saw Jeremy was one of the guys in the break I should’ve thought ahead and known he would not be able to hang with us in the hills, so did I want to ride with just two others for 50+ miles at a very high pace? I think it may have been better to ride with them a bit to set them up enough where they would not want to drop back then just fall off the pace and return to the chase group. There I could’ve drafted most the race and really cranked it up in the last 10 miles. We almost caught the two of them near the end so I think I may have been able to do more damage and even pass them for the win. But, it didn’t happen and of course this is only speculation so who knows how it would’ve turned out. Two, I have this fancy power meter so I should pay more attention to it. I know what I’m capable of for an hour at full speed, although perhaps that needs a minor adjustment after yesterdays performance, but, anyways, when I’m running at 100%+ going on two hours I should sit back and think, hey, wait a second, you can’t do this for another 45 minutes!! After the first lap average of 380w, and still only a less than two minute gap on the chase group, I think, again, it would’ve been smart to just fall back to the chase group. With just the two of them out front they would’ve had to work even harder to stay away. And, finally, a major factor to my petering out, perhaps even the factor, was my nutrition. I did not consume enough calories the day before the race for a few reasons, and then I did not consume enough for the first hour of the race. I must focus on calorie consumption in the future!
So that’s it. I’m glad I went, I learned more, and got a great workout that should only make me stronger. Normalized power of 330 watts for 3 hours. 50 watt drop due to the last 45 minutes of poking around the roads of East Hartland, drafting, struggling to maintain even that connection to the guy in front!
An addendum to this, a few hours after writing the bulk of this report, after speaking with my coach, it's been pretty much confirmed nutrition was my downfall and not my legs or the high, constant power output.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Tour of the Catskills report
My first stage race with the big boys in the pro 1 2 field took place this past weekend. My wife and I headed to Hunter, NY Friday AM for the Tour of the Catskills. The Tour consisted of an individual time trial on Friday followed by two ~80 mile road races over the weekend. I was facing my biggest challenge yet with some stiff competition from various parts of the country along with some foreigners from Canada and Europe. Floyd Landis was also rumored to be attending, and attend he did. My biggest concern was the Canadian team Garneau. They’ve been cleaning up at most of the big events in the NE, and their leader is a former Tour de France racer.
I didn’t ride at all two days prior to the prologue time trial. I felt pretty good when warming up, and had an average watts goal to shoot for during the TT. The TT was short, only 2.3 miles, with a steep, short 10% grade at the beginning followed by a false flat uphill. It took me 7 minutes to complete. I did not hit my average watts and really felt spent, like my lungs were lacerated, after finishing. I didn’t really understand what was wrong, but since then I think I’ve figured it out with the help of my coach, and hopefully will not under perform again for such an important event. My time still landed me in 12th position of 102 riders going in to the first road race, and I was 26 seconds behind the leader Passeron from the Garneau team and aforementioned TdF rider. He cleaned up, beating the 2nd place rider by 16 seconds. I was pretty satisfied with the overall results, know I could’ve done better, but that’s how things go sometimes and since there was a wicked climb at the end of the last day I was confident I could make up some time.
Going in to day two’s road race I just wanted to finish with the lead group. I didn’t expect any breaks to stick, but knew the field would be whittled away with all the climbing so just focused on staying near the yellow jersey. The route Saturday went around the Windham, NY area and had a little less than 7,000ft of climbing over 82 miles. I found Saturday to be the hardest day. Lots of climbing, and with every climb came attacks from various teams and individuals. So, basically it went from difficult to very difficult over and over again for a little over three hours. The finish was especially fast with everyone battling it out hoping to squeeze a few seconds off their time deficit to the leader. No such luck. After the 2nd big climb of the day roughly 60 miles in to the race the lead group had been reduced to about 30 riders including me. All the heavy hitters were still present, and the overall leader had great support from his team. It looked like it would be a pack finish in downtown Windham and we didn’t disappoint. Our average speed was probably 30mph or greater for the last 10 miles over slightly rolling terrain. I felt strong throughout but was definitely approaching my limits for how long I could tolerate such a high speed coupled with even greater accelerations every minute by people trying to escape. So, we finished together after an intense battle and all went in to stage three with the same times. All the guys who were above me after the TT were in the group so I stayed in 12th position. Passeron won again so added a 10 second time bonus to us mere mortals.
Day Three. The feared climb 66 miles in to the race had everyone nervous and questioning their gear selection and/or sanity before the start of the stage. The climb has a name, Devil’s Kitchen - a three mile battle straight up the side of a mountain with 15-22% grades all the way up. The race leading up to the climb was relatively easy, a walk in the park some might say, and I found it to be the perfect 2.5 hour warmup for a really hard effort. Leading up to the climb, we were on a narrow country chip and sealed road with unfinished gritty edges. I was roughly mid-pack, perhaps a bit towards the front, and knew that was not the place to be at the start of the climb, but didn’t really see how I’d weasel my way up without a serious fight. Luckily I did not have to deal with the situation, and my teammate Tom Bencivengo took control, had me hop on his wheel, and did one hell of a job depositing me right at the front of the race just when the climb began. When the grade went to 15% Tom rolled off the front and said something like good luck or don’t fall off your bike, or something like that, and off I went. Peter Hurst from Axa set a stiff pace at the beginning, and I followed at his heels along with a few others. The field was shattered in a matter of seconds. Peter eventually petered out along with the yellow jersey, and fell off the front and was replaced by me. I was then passed by Cameron Cogburn who maintained a five or ten second gap over me for the remainder of the climb. So Mr Cogburn cleared the infamous climb first and turned it over to TT mode – something he’s extremely good at – and was probably pipe dreaming a solo win right about then. I gave chase riding at and slightly below my 1 hour threshold throwing an occasional glance over my shoulder to see who might be nipping at my wheel. Sure enough after a few minutes the yellow jersey train, about 5 guys in total, was slowing approaching and it looked inevitable I was going to be caught. I throttled down a bit and let them catch up quicker so I could take advantage of the drafting. After I was swallowed we set our sights on Cameron. We caught him just as easily as they caught me and we were a nice wholesome happy pack of 7 riders heading towards the finish. Pretty much all the guys I expected to be there were with one notable exception being Floyd Landis. The last 10 miles were a bit anti-climactic after such a tough climb – too bad it couldn’t have ended there – we’d have seen some gut-wrenching battles! Passeron won again. Surprise! I finished with the lead group and moved up to 6th position overall in the GC.
Overall, I’m very pleased with the results especially considering the competition, and can’t wait for the next big event in a month – the green mountain stage race in VT.
My coach, Chad Butts, took the time to create some cool info using my power data from the races. Check it out here.
I didn’t ride at all two days prior to the prologue time trial. I felt pretty good when warming up, and had an average watts goal to shoot for during the TT. The TT was short, only 2.3 miles, with a steep, short 10% grade at the beginning followed by a false flat uphill. It took me 7 minutes to complete. I did not hit my average watts and really felt spent, like my lungs were lacerated, after finishing. I didn’t really understand what was wrong, but since then I think I’ve figured it out with the help of my coach, and hopefully will not under perform again for such an important event. My time still landed me in 12th position of 102 riders going in to the first road race, and I was 26 seconds behind the leader Passeron from the Garneau team and aforementioned TdF rider. He cleaned up, beating the 2nd place rider by 16 seconds. I was pretty satisfied with the overall results, know I could’ve done better, but that’s how things go sometimes and since there was a wicked climb at the end of the last day I was confident I could make up some time.
Going in to day two’s road race I just wanted to finish with the lead group. I didn’t expect any breaks to stick, but knew the field would be whittled away with all the climbing so just focused on staying near the yellow jersey. The route Saturday went around the Windham, NY area and had a little less than 7,000ft of climbing over 82 miles. I found Saturday to be the hardest day. Lots of climbing, and with every climb came attacks from various teams and individuals. So, basically it went from difficult to very difficult over and over again for a little over three hours. The finish was especially fast with everyone battling it out hoping to squeeze a few seconds off their time deficit to the leader. No such luck. After the 2nd big climb of the day roughly 60 miles in to the race the lead group had been reduced to about 30 riders including me. All the heavy hitters were still present, and the overall leader had great support from his team. It looked like it would be a pack finish in downtown Windham and we didn’t disappoint. Our average speed was probably 30mph or greater for the last 10 miles over slightly rolling terrain. I felt strong throughout but was definitely approaching my limits for how long I could tolerate such a high speed coupled with even greater accelerations every minute by people trying to escape. So, we finished together after an intense battle and all went in to stage three with the same times. All the guys who were above me after the TT were in the group so I stayed in 12th position. Passeron won again so added a 10 second time bonus to us mere mortals.
Day Three. The feared climb 66 miles in to the race had everyone nervous and questioning their gear selection and/or sanity before the start of the stage. The climb has a name, Devil’s Kitchen - a three mile battle straight up the side of a mountain with 15-22% grades all the way up. The race leading up to the climb was relatively easy, a walk in the park some might say, and I found it to be the perfect 2.5 hour warmup for a really hard effort. Leading up to the climb, we were on a narrow country chip and sealed road with unfinished gritty edges. I was roughly mid-pack, perhaps a bit towards the front, and knew that was not the place to be at the start of the climb, but didn’t really see how I’d weasel my way up without a serious fight. Luckily I did not have to deal with the situation, and my teammate Tom Bencivengo took control, had me hop on his wheel, and did one hell of a job depositing me right at the front of the race just when the climb began. When the grade went to 15% Tom rolled off the front and said something like good luck or don’t fall off your bike, or something like that, and off I went. Peter Hurst from Axa set a stiff pace at the beginning, and I followed at his heels along with a few others. The field was shattered in a matter of seconds. Peter eventually petered out along with the yellow jersey, and fell off the front and was replaced by me. I was then passed by Cameron Cogburn who maintained a five or ten second gap over me for the remainder of the climb. So Mr Cogburn cleared the infamous climb first and turned it over to TT mode – something he’s extremely good at – and was probably pipe dreaming a solo win right about then. I gave chase riding at and slightly below my 1 hour threshold throwing an occasional glance over my shoulder to see who might be nipping at my wheel. Sure enough after a few minutes the yellow jersey train, about 5 guys in total, was slowing approaching and it looked inevitable I was going to be caught. I throttled down a bit and let them catch up quicker so I could take advantage of the drafting. After I was swallowed we set our sights on Cameron. We caught him just as easily as they caught me and we were a nice wholesome happy pack of 7 riders heading towards the finish. Pretty much all the guys I expected to be there were with one notable exception being Floyd Landis. The last 10 miles were a bit anti-climactic after such a tough climb – too bad it couldn’t have ended there – we’d have seen some gut-wrenching battles! Passeron won again. Surprise! I finished with the lead group and moved up to 6th position overall in the GC.
Overall, I’m very pleased with the results especially considering the competition, and can’t wait for the next big event in a month – the green mountain stage race in VT.
My coach, Chad Butts, took the time to create some cool info using my power data from the races. Check it out here.
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