The streets did not clear until mid March, putting us about a month behind in road miles.
The good news is my winter program went well, I had some new weight goals and came in about 151 pounds on March 1 vs 167 pounds at the same time last year. Pretty happy with that I tell you. I learned the diet secret. Don't eat.
I was not planning on starting my race season until the new Bennington SR on May 1 but a window of opportunity arose and I snuck into the Battenkill-Roubaix road race on April 10. Knowing I was so far behind the mileage curve of the other riders, this would be an advanced training ride for me, ie, hang on to your ass and never put your nose in the wind.
B-R is a really tough race though, huge fields and lots of hard dirt sections, not really a 'ease into your season type of first race'. Oh well. Saddle up and get on it with.
Sunday headed to Cambridge NY for the biggest one day race in the US. 2500 or so riders. Holy crap, cars and bikes take over this little town on race day. Just a massive production. Kudos to Dieter Drake and his staff for being able to corral and control this monster. It all went pretty smooth from my vantage point.
Race day forecast was for 50's and showers but we lucked out. It was low 60's and mostly sunny, so no worries about mud. This course can be sketchy enough without slick dirt sections to deal with.
65 miles on tap, I was in the Master 50 plus. We started with 150 guys, just a massive group, so I went to the front 20 and stayed there.
First 10 miles, steady.
Onto the first dirt section, some chaos, bottles skidding this way and that, but no real carnage. Field thinned a bit.
OK to this point but I really had no idea how I was going to go on this day. I was lighter, but that ain't all there is to racing bikes, so it was with a bit of trepidation I approached the first real obstacle of the day, Juniper Swamp Road, a nasty little climb. I seem to remember John Funk taking off so the speed went up and I settled in pretty comforatbly at the back of a 15 man group. Over the top, no worries! I felt smooth and in control. hey, this lighter thing might work. The damage to the field though, was massive. I looked back and the 15 guys I was with was it. Holy crap. 120 or so guys just sawed off like that. Wow.
A group of 20-30 did bridge back, but the succeeding climbs would see them fall off again, then fight back, then get dropped until by mid-race, 35 miles or so, we were left with 15 guys in the front and that was the bike race. Everyone else was off in dribs and drabs and chasing. This course has a way of doing that.
Up and down, right and left, pavement and dirt, it just keeps coming and it wears on you.
My biggest worry was the 3rd hour. I thought I could handle the first two, and I did in good fashion. Legs were good, climbs were no problem. It was just not hard, and that was a good feeling.
However, the final 15 miles would be the bike race and it was. Little attacks and accelerations, cross winds, dirt climbs, soft sandy sections, guys careening this way and that, many, many guys standing by the road with forlorn looks holding wheels with flats, waiting waiting for the salvation of the obviously overworked support cars.
At about the 2:30 mark we were down to 12 and I could feel the deep dark pain starting to take over my legs. I knew it was time to really dig in and start racing bikes, shut it out and do what had to be done to keep up.
We careened across a long up and down section called Meeting House road and it got really hard. Strung out, gaps all over, trying to find a line through the dirt. I picked the guy with the biggest, most tan legs, locked on his wheel, squinted my eyes and held on. This was some hard shit. We were flying along at 30mph through the dirt, now 8 miles or so to go to the finish. I was hurting but holding on.
I knew if I could keep contact though the final set of dirt climbs, it was a 4-5 mile downhill/false flat pavement run-in to the finish, and I could cruise in from there.
Up we went for the last obstacles of the day. Ouch is all I can say. I was really hurting and really digging deep. OK on the first ramp, still here. OK on the second ramp, still here. Crap, another one, now gapped. I remember looking up and the sky seemed almost white and I could see sparkles. That is not good. That means you are getting dropped. CRAP!. So close and I am falling off! I dig for my life and keep the wheel in front of me maybe 10 meters. Still possible. Over and then, another ramp. I know my shoulders sagged, my spirit pretty much sagged as well. I knew there was no way I could hold it to the top. 8 guys were now pulling away, 5 miles to go. Damn.
Over the top, onto the pavement another rider catches me and we start working together. A chance? Maybe. We traded pulls and pushed hard. When you have been racing nearly 3 hours and are now in a flat out 30MPH chase in a two man rotation, legs screaming with each turn of the pedals, well, this is what bike racing is all about. Hard. Really hard. Flat out all you can do. We could see the leaders in front of us, but with a mile to go, they started ramping it up for the finish and disappeared from sight.
Finally the end appeared, the final 2 blocks in downtown Cambridge completely barracaded, people lining each side of the road cheering, I guess they were, my ears had nearly shut down from loss of fuel to run any system except the legs.
Crossed the line, 10th, a minute behind the front 8.
All in all quite a grand day for a guy with 7 days outside and less total road miles than I raced on this day.
No flats and all my skin.
 |
| Meeting House Road |
