Friday, December 21, 2012

The Chase...

I have to say, Specialized certainly did nail the add of the year.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Terrible NYC riding...

As seen on my ride today.  Such terrible riding here in NYC.  Sorry for the poor quality, Motorola needs to take a lesson from Apple on how to put a great camera in their smart phone.  Actually, I should have taken a real camera with me.

Henry Hudson Drive - 9 miles of paradise right across the GWB
 
We have switchbacks too...except I'll get a ticket if I go right unfortunately :-(
Booooooo!
 
Very parkwayesque, too bad there's only a 1.2 mile "mountain" at the end!
 
 
Hudson River peeking through the trees
 
Headed up Alpine climb
 
Henry Hudson Bridge...gateway to northern Manhattan
 
Manhattan skyline and GWB pre-hurricane as seen from the water...
err, Ross Dock (soon to be under water!)
 
GWB peeking through the trees on my way home
 
So I survived the pre-hurricane wind for one last ride to enjoy the fall colors before the hurricane destroys Henry Hudson Drive (known as river road to the local cyclists) and blows down what's left of the leaves.  Every time we get hit with a big storm, trees come down and there's usually a rock/mudslide or two closing the road for a couple weeks.  It truly is an amazing 9 miles of riding.

Friday, September 28, 2012

Lucky 13 - Race #13

Three weekends ago, I headed upstate for the Hunter Mountain Fall Classic with Etsu, the FGX team director and racer.  Heading into this race, my form was on an upswing and training was going well.  That being said, the race was 78 miles, 2 laps around a 39 mile course and the one thing I was still lacking was long miles.  Since I have been back to racing, I think I only have one 80 mile training ride.  So needless to say, I was a little worried about the distance but my teammate Ira reassured me it wouldn't be a problem with all the descending.  I wasn't convinced!  The course started off with a short climb early in the lap followed by a long descent down to the river valley.  We then headed up the river valley and hung a right on Route 42 for a long gradual slog back up toward Hunter, including another fast descent.  We then turned onto 23A for the final false flat grinder back into town.  Several teammates who rode the spring Hunter Spring Classic said the race was likely to end up in a field sprint for the win.  Regardless, there was one final factor to consider...the weather.  A massive storm front was closing in on eastern New York complete with all kinds of high wind, hail, and general severe weather warnings. 


Saturday morning we awoke to partly sunny skies, lots of wind, and cool temperatures.  We packed up and drove to the start area right down the road.  I debated wearing arm warmers and was a bit concerned with the possibility of rain and dropping temperatures in the mountains.  After my warm-up, I ended up going with just a jersey and shorts hoping for the best weather wise.  I lined up with two teammates, Etsu and Ira.  Much like me, Etsu is on the come back trail having suffered from a nasty infection which knocked him out for the middle part of the season.  Ira on the other hand has been on a tear this season and is super strong not to mention a very smart racer.  It was an easy decision who we were working for. 

The race started under threatening skies as we headed toward the first climb.  We crested the climb much quicker than I expected, partly due to our high speed along with the climb being shorter than I remembered.  Once over the climb, I drifted to the back of the peloton for the first time down the descent to play it safe.  The sharper corners toward the bottom of the descent ended up being a non-factor at speed making for a very non-technical descent.  That being said, there were some beat up patches of asphalt on the right side to avoid.  As we turned up the river valley, the rain started to fall every so gently, slowly building into a nice steady shower.  I stayed tucked in at the back playing it conservative for the first lap, hopefully I could save enough energy to make the distance with something left in the tank.  Numerous guys attacked and were reeled back as we made our way up the river valley and then back to hunter on Route 42.  Four guys finally got away and the peloton was content to ease up a little.  Unfortunately Etsu had a mechanical issue and dropped off on the gradual slog up Route 42 leaving Ira and me to do the honors for FGX in a field of 40-50 riders.  As we passed by 15, 20, and 25 miles of race, it was clear that it was going to be a long day for me.  My legs felt heavy and I was suffering but my power numbers were fine.  I was beginning to worry that I wouldn't have the legs to make it to the end.  The rain was proving a nice distraction however the shower passed as we neared 23A.  After turning onto 23A heading back toward Hunter, Ira attacked hard to bridge up to the break.  As the break turned onto Bridge Street in Hunter, I could see that Ira had closed the gap to the break to about 10 seconds.  Unfortunately he never was able to completely close the gap and he drifted back to the peloton shortly before we hit the short climb at the beginning of the second lap.  The wind was hammering anyone and everyone who dared sticking their nose out even the slightest bit on 23A and it took its toll on Ira.  As we made our way up the climb I began to move toward the front as the breakaway completely disappeared from view.  Despite Ira's best efforts attacking several times early on, covering other attacks, and attempting to bridge...he was still stuck in the peloton having missed the break that stuck.  Watching him the first lap began to inspire me more and more.  He was always perfectly positioned several riders back just out of the wind.  After we crested the climb and began the descent, I told Ira to sit in and I was going to try to get a couple BH guys to work with me to close the gap to the breakaway.  Warren, an acquaintance of mine on team BH was on the front and no one wanted to help.  I told him I'd work with them to help close down the break and we got down to business.  We hammered the second half of the descent as one or two other guys chipped into the chase.  Heading up the river valley, the good work continued until some young guy sat up on the front.  I had drifted back a bit with one of the BH guys to get a little rest.  As soon as the pace slowed, we both looked at each other and immediately made our way back to the front on either side of the peloton.  We lifted the pace back up only to have it drop again after our pulls.  Frustrated, the BH guy attacked and I instinctively jumped his wheel and we were off the front.  As I pulled through, he commented that maybe this will light a fire under their ass!  Amazingly it worked.  Several guys weren't very happy with us off the front and the pace rose sharply as they shut us down.  Once we were caught, the pace remained steady and several guys were working with us again.  I took a long pull onto Route 42 and kept the pace as high as I dared knowing the long gradual climb that was coming.  Funny to be worried about a gradual climb but when shutting down a break for a teammate, you leave just enough in reserve to not get dropped until the job is done.  On the way up, we caught a masters field and no shock, they mixed in with our field and wouldn't let us go.  After cresting the second climb, we ripped down the short descent and I topped out just north of 53mph.  At the bottom, there were a couple of attacks out of our field that I covered which ended up separating out the two fields finally.  As we turned onto 23A, the remaining two guys in the break were just up the road and the peloton quickly began to shut it down as the break battled the fierce headwinds.  By this point, I was pretty cooked and was hanging on near the back hiding from the wind as best I could...simply hoping to survive the last 7 miles.  The peloton closed to within 10 seconds of the break and everyone sat up content that it was over.  But it wasn't.  I watched the break start to stretch the gap back out as one rider attacked and bridged up, breathing new life into the break.  Before I knew it, they were over 30 seconds up the road and apparently the peloton was happy to race for fourth place.  I moved forward as gaps were opening further back, trying to find more steady wheels to follow.  Just then, Warren attacked and without a thought I jumped his wheel as we went shooting out the front.  I had no intention of trying to get away because I was suffering pretty badly now, rather I just wanted to cover the move to protect Ira.  I pulled through when Warren signaled and couldn't believe how strong the headwind was.  My legs were cooked and I didn't have much before I eased up and a third guy pulled through.  He wasn't much stronger and it quickly became apparent to Warren that this attack was going no where.  At least we managed to close the gap to the break down a bit.  I drifted back to around tenth wheel and was shocked to see everyone sitting up looking around as the break once again stretched the gap disappearing quickly up the road.  Now I was pissed.  How stupid can you be?  I knew Ira was probably a bit tired and trying to conserve for the finish since he packs a good sprint so I didn't expect him to work.  After watching Ira ride a great race, I was really annoyed with the stupid tactics playing out.  My frustration finally boiled over and I started making my way to the front to do something about it.  Unfortunately the top 6 or 7 guys had the entire lane blocked and I couldn't get through.  Angry as hell at these idiots for doing nothing but looking around at each other as the race slips away, I yelled "get out of my way" as I sliced through a tight spot between two of the riders.  I hit the front and drilled it for all I was worth.  I took note of the gap to the break which was around 50-60 seconds, put my head down and sank into the pain completely focused.  In two to three minutes of battling the headwind, I had cut the gap in half but I needed a break.  I flicked my elbow and amazingly someone pulled through...and then slowly eased off the pace not wanting to work too hard.  After a minute or two of rest and even more annoyed, I drove to the front again and buried myself one final time.  I knew this was it as we entered the outskirts of Hunter.  If I didn't get the peloton close enough, no one else was going to work and the race was over.  I sank deeper into the drops with my head slightly down focusing on turning the legs over as hard and as long as I could.  My legs were searing with pain but I kept going.  A quick glance at my power confirmed there was still something left as I hovered just over 300 watts.  Everything began to blur except for my focus on putting as much pressure on the pedals as possible.  It seemed like an eternity went by as I drilled the front and then I saw the parked cop car ahead and lifted my head as we approached Bridge Street...and there was the break!  I turned onto Bridge Street using every bit of the road so as to carry as much speed as possible.  I rose out of the saddle and accelerated with everything I had left and counted down the gap.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5...6 seconds!  Despite the burning of my legs, I hammered into the small rise after we crossed the river and pulled off to the far right and exploded, completely slouched over the bars...done.  I sensed the peloton flying by on my left as we rounded the final turn heading for the finish.  I tried desperately to grab onto the back of the peloton and did so briefly until they accelerated.  At 1K to go, I was spit out the back and didn't even care.  My job was done.  At 500M to go, I completely sat up craning my neck for a view of the sprint.  I saw Ira's white jersey go shooting out of the front as I pumped my fist in the air and yelled "GO!"  As the Peloton neared the line, I could no longer see what was going on and slowly pedaled in.  I crossed the line as Etsu and several of our 4's cheered me on.  I made my way up to Ira as he turned around to come back.  He had finished second, frustrated for mistiming his sprint.  Regardless, we were both ecstatic with the result and teamwork.  We pulled off to the side and talked with our teammates and a few other guys from our race, including the guy who bridged up to the break and almost won the race...had it not been for me.  Had I not taken those last two pulls, the break would have easily made it to the finish.  They were caught just inside of 500M to go.  The best part was rolling in off the back watching Ira go shooting out of the peloton for the sprint finish.  What a great feeling.  He deserved the shot at the win and he delivered with a great finish.  I was just happy I had something left to give him the shot at the win...especially after the race he rode.  Although I'm still not sure where it came from considering I was hanging on the back hoping to survive with 7 miles to go haha! 

I received a lot of nice compliments from Ira and many other teammates.  For me, the satisfaction came from finally being competitive again.  Ira deserves all the credit for the race, he rode so smart the entire way and was super strong, taking chances to force the race in his favor.  Additionally, he always commented after my pulls "good job" or "nice work."  It was a great feeling to ride competitively and be able to impact the outcome of the race once again.  It has been a very long road back with many days of doubt and second guessing.  But lucky race #13 proved I was back.  After the suffering and pain subsided, I reflected on my born again love of racing.  I can't wait to get back out there!

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Some Things Never Change - Race #12

I received many comments from the team on my race report for my 12th race of the season.  Several made me think, a couple made me laugh.  Comments like "It is pure racing, pure and very dirty", "It has subtle appeal", "It's like herpes, you can never really get rid of it", and "Yep, that's Brooklyn for ya."  I guess "It's like Herpes - Race #12" probably wouldn't have been the best of titles haha.  This past Sunday morning, I raced my second Floyd Bennett Field race.  I can't remember ever being this excited to race.  Pure excitement, no nerves.  I'm still not sure how this place has such a grip on me in this short a time.  I guess it is the raw, brutal nature of the racing at Floyd.  It's not a pretty place that's for sure.  Rather it has a rundown, long forgotten about vibe.  There's really not much to do there on a bike but suffer.  I guess that's my attraction to this place, satisfying my inner masochist.  Maybe the herpes analogy really does make sense.  Anyway, here's a nicely done video by the guys at SixCycles of a race earlier this year at Floyd that gives you a better taste of this place.  Don't believe the title either, there's certainly no Kid's Race or Big Wheel Championship. 



If you noticed one thing, I hope it was the aggressive nature of the racing.  For whatever reason, the number of surges and attacks seems nonstop at times.  Now factor in the nasty wind.  Riding at 28mph on every straight, there's no easy way out.  It's gonna hurt no matter what.

Well, that's exactly how Sunday went.  It hurt plain and simple.  At the start of the race, I rode near the front and covered the first two moves in the opening couple of laps.  After the second move was reeled in, I eased up thinking the peloton wasn't in any mood to let anything go...not to mention I was hurting a fair bit.  And just then it went, attack #3 stuck and I watched it slide off the front.  Initially I wasn't worried because I figured we'd run them down soon enough.  I couldn't have been any more wrong.  The move was greeted with a lot of looking around and hesitation.  A few of people tried to get to work on the chase as the gap stretched at an alarming rate.  About 4-5 of us started trying to work but gaps kept opening and the chase kept falling apart.  It took me a few minutes to realize what was going on.  Then it was all crystal clear.  Two riders from MangeSeed were screwing us every time we got organized.  They would get in the line and then let the gap open to the guy or two on the front.  OK, well now I know they clearly have a rider up the road!  We worked as best we could to keep things moving but after 4 or 5 laps of this with the break now out of sight, it was apparent our race was over.  None the less we kept trying and they kept disrupting anything and everything, unfortunately there simply weren't enough guys working to overcome them.  I gave up the chase and drifted toward the back to rest up in hopes of ditching some of these losers and slackers with a break attempt closer to the end of the race.  There's no better time to try moves you might ordinarily not try than from the second group with no chance of winning.  The back offered an interesting vantage point and at times the racing in our group was down right pathetic.  After 13 laps on the 2.3 mile circuit, the organizer shifted us onto the shorter 1.6 mile triangle circuit using another one of the runways.  This runway is beat to hell and easily the worst of the bunch.  It took a couple laps for the guys to find the smoother pavement so we took a little of a beating.  We were slated for 9 short laps to finish the race.  With around 6 or 7 laps to go, I moved up to the front just as things started heating up.  I was keeping an eye on the strong guys who attempted to work and noticed many of them back on the front.  I guess my idea wasn't so original haha!  I watched one attack go, counted the strong guys, and let them open a reasonable gap then I attacked hard and bridged up rather quickly.  I only had the rotation of three riders to recover and then I was on the front.  We quickly realized how hard getting away was going to be when we hit the short course runway directly into a strong headwind.  We slogged our way down the runway but the peloton wasn't having any of it and managed to organize a chase and shut us down.  A lap later, one of the riders in the first break attempt went hard again and I jumped.  We dragged out another strong rider but it ended in a similar fate with the peloton shutting us down on the headwind stretch.  The next lap, another attack went with a Kissena guy and then shortly after, his teammate bridged up.  This was the move I wanted but I was patient, I wanted to see the peloton's reaction.  Everyone seemed gassed.  Sure I was tired, hurting, and cross eyed at times but I wanted out of this group so badly.  I jumped hard again and swung wide left to ensure a delay in anyone thinking about grabbing my wheel.  I was clear and closing on the break.  I hit the back and rotated through to the front with little rest.  Everything was hurting and my lungs and legs felt like lead.  I hammered the front with all I had for my pull and rotated off.  We were working well together and managed to stretch this break a little longer but unfortunately the peloton wasn't letting anything go this close to the end.  Groupo Compacto.  I drifted toward the middle of the pack to get a little shelter and recover.  Just about then, the break lapped us.  The short course switch didn't help but ultimately it was the peloton's lack of ability to work together that brought this result, see my comment about the pathetic racing above.  Unfortunately some idiots decided to mix in and not let the break rightfully go.  Several of the guys in the break attacked to get away and I think 2 or 3 made the escape.  The rest were stuck.  On the next to last lap, there was a big attack by several strong guys (from the peloton) and this time I jumped immediately.  Unfortunately we only made it to the start/finish line for the last lap before the move was shut down.  I slid into the pack which now seemed much smaller than I recall.  Apparently all the attacks were doing some good in that they spit several out the back.  As we turned off the front straightaway, I was gassed and slipped off the back.  I watched the gap open but couldn't summon the strength to do anything about it.  And then the gap seemed to stabilize.  I looked back and could see a third group of rider we had shed over the previous laps.  I looked down, dug deep, and jumped out of the saddle.  I had no idea what was left but I knew I needed to dig.  I simply didn't want to face the short course runway alone into the headwind haha!  Plus, I really didn't want to finish off the back of another race...I had worked too hard this time to let that happen.  My legs burned and it felt like I could hardly breathe.  After a few seconds I looked up and the gap was shrinking.  Focus, keep digging...this isn't over yet.  Can't stop, won't stop (credit to pro Adam Myerson for that great saying).  I hammered my legs harder than I knew I could, looked up, and realized I was almost there.  I lined the corner up perfect and ripped it with a clean line not shedding one iota of speed.  Exiting the corner onto headwind hell straightaway I rolled up onto the last wheel.  I had maybe a minute to try to recover for the finishing sprint.  Unfortunately riding that stretch offered little recovery due to the beat up pavement and the sheer pace of the peloton.  All I could think was it's almost over.  I kept digging...recovering is a bitch when your churning out 300 some watts!  We turned onto the finishing stretch and there was an immediate acceleration as one guy went straight out of the corner.  I waited it out, not entirely interested in the finishing sprint for MAYBE top 20?  None the less, I kicked late from around mid-pack which was now really stretched out.  The front guys had already opened their sprint and were clear.  I managed to pick off numerous riders who went early, crossed the line and collapsed on the bars.  The funny thing is I would later find out that I finished 12th in the race.  Amazingly the officials managed to pick through the finishing video and get the results properly sorted out.  Cracking the top ten in a Floyd 1/2/3 race is a very respectable accomplishment considering the strongmen who routinely put everyone else in their place.  Apparently when the break mixed with the peloton, I didn't realize that all the attacks had shredded the peloton.  If I had only realized, I could have likely broken the top ten.  My first finish with the pack since getting hit and nearly cracking the top ten at that.  I think I'm finally getting back to being competitive...finally.

After the race, we discussed the breakdown of the race with Phil from Team BH.  Phil is one of those strong men who makes this race great...and very tough.  He told me "You have to go with every move at the start until the right one stays away.  Sure, it hurts but you just have to ride through it."  I guess I now have my strategy for my next Floyd.  Wait a second, why do I want to get into a break with the hard men of Floyd?  Haha, some things never change.  Oh, one more thing...this is what is meant by Floyd being "very dirty":

Sunday, September 2, 2012

The Legend - Race # 11


So what does an old, abandoned airfield have to do with cycling?  Well, this is the home of the best weekly races in the NYC area hands down.  What about Prospect Park you might ask, the infamous races where former local boy George Hincapie cut his teeth as an amateur?  I can't say much more than it is another park race much like the Central Park races.  True, the racing is often very fierce there but it is still a park race and sitting in can be accomplished relatively easy...assuming you don't get taken out.  You see, the thing about Floyd Bennett Field is that there is simply nowhere to hide.  It is flat, wide, open, dirty/dusty, and right on the water.  Sitting in here is severely complicated by the non-stop winds that blow in off the lower bay, not to mention the strongmen who absolutely kill these races.  And a funny thing about Floyd, you ALWAYS have a headwind of some variety for three out of the four straightaways.  Don't ask me how, I didn't believe it until I actually rode my first Floyd Bennett Field race this past Tuesday night.  Honestly, I'm still scratching my head over it a bit.  And then there's the pavement.  Old runways and taxiways that have deteriorated over the years leaving a worn, rough, concrete surface that has seen better days.  Luckily old man winter has been relatively gentile on all the concrete joints and there are only a few small treacherous areas.  So here's the course layout:

Simply put, Floyd Bennett Field is a hard man's race.  Naturally one might then ask why a spindly little climber like me would want to race Floyd.  Well, after hearing about the epic tales that this place spins out on a near weekly basis from the hardest men on our team, it is only fitting that this race should pique my interest.  Not to mention, I miss a good headwind.  Besides, I learned a long time ago that the best way to get faster is to ride with stronger, faster cyclists. 

I arrived early with a teammate, traffic was fairly reasonable for NYC.  I could have ridden out but that meant dealing with Flatbush Avenue which has been routinely described as a war zone during rush hour.  After the year I've had, I'll drive thanks.  As soon as I got out of the Jeep, I noticed the wind was howling right down the front straight away.  Howling as in a steady 20mph!  Strangely I was very relaxed before the race, a first for this year.  For some reason, this place drew me in as soon as I arrived.  We registered, got ready, and headed out for some warm up laps.  I was guided around the course by another teammate who is a Floyd veteran and strongman, Mike.  He gave me many pointers on positioning, wind, who to watch out for and what combinations of riders to not let get off the front, and how the race was likely to go down.  Soon the rest of our team arrived and it was race time.  After starting in the front, I drifted to the back during the first lap.  I wanted to see what this place was like at race pace before I got too involved.  The first several laps were fast and tough, much like a crit except here you don't dare let even a small gap open.  I made that mistake early on and before I knew it I was about five bike lengths off the back going backwards into a stout crosswind.  I ended up busting out nearly 500 watts to close that gap up!  I was careful to not let that happen again.  As the race wore on, I became more comfortable and settled into the pace and effort nicely.  Around the sixth lap I began to move toward the front without even trying.  Strange thing is that this seems to happen to me regularly in these short circuit races.  Over the next several laps, I worked on or near the front and closed down a couple break attempts in which we were not represented.  As the efforts took their toll, I began to drift back to get some rest for the finish.  Unfortunately I heard a move in the making from one of the strong guys and a co-conspirator.  As they accelerated I quickly assessed my teammates positions and realized they were poorly placed to cover the move.  I accelerated and grabbed the second guys wheel as we shot past the front of the peloton.  I was already 3/4's blown but I knew I had to give it a go.  As we settled into the effort, the first (strong) guy pulled off much earlier than I expected.  The second guy hardly even pulled before moving to the left and flicking me through.  I went to pull through however the second guy kept his pace trying to force me to accelerate to pull through.  Already riding at 33mph into a crosswind, I wasn't playing his game.  I wasn't born yesterday, I know that tactic.  Very soon the fourth guy who grabbed my wheel on the initial move begins yelling at me to pull.  Apparently he though I was trying to hold them up or something because the next words out of his mouth were "get out of the way."  Funny, there was a whole third of the width of a freaking airplane runway to my right protected from the crosswind in which he could have pulled through!  Besides, I couldn't move to the left because wheel #2 (now known as "short round" haha) was still trying to figure out how to rotate to the back of a paceline.  All this in a 1/2/3 race.  I'm not sure where some of these guys learned to race a bike or picked up their tactics but I am continually shocked at how stupid some people ride at this level.  Speaking of bad tactics, maybe the Schleck brothers were giving free clinics in the NYC area earlier this year?  Anyway, now I was pretty much blown as I tried to somehow extract myself from between these two clowns.  Once clear and attempting to latch on to the back, a quick glance back confirmed the peloton was in no mood for a break as everything was strung out.  With not much left in the tank, I sat up and tried to recover as the peloton caught me.  I grabbed onto the back again but was blown off a short while later when there was a hard acceleration...no doubt to answer another attack.  With three laps to go I was shelled and on my own.  I rode out the last three laps trying to hold as much power as I could to at least get a few more good miles in.  I can't lie, I was happy to cross the finish line.


Race photos by Victor Chan

After the race, we packed up and headed back into the city for dinner and drinks at Veselka, one of our sponsors.  Overall, I was very happy with my race.  It felt so good to be in the thick of a race again, it has been a while.  In fact, I forgot how much fun it is smack in the middle of the tactics, attacks, bridges, and counter attacks.  With a little better management of my efforts, I would have finished with what was left of the pack.  Not only that but it was clear that Floyd Bennett Field was a special place.  It is definitely a unique, challenging race...not something easily put into words.  And for once...instead of fighting for survival hanging on at the back, I was fighting at the front and rediscovered my love of racing all over again.  Who knew I was going to find that missing piece at an old abandoned airfield?  I think I just found another favorite race.
 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

ToC - Races #9 and #10

ToC...as in Tour of the Catskills that is!  After a tough prior two races, ToC was looming on the horizon.  Given my struggle to gain enough fitness to be competitive, I briefly contemplated dropping out of the ToC before it even started.  This is a tough three day stage race that normally I'd be very excited about, even peaking my form for the event.  This hasn't been a normal year however.  A three day race you say yet only races #9 and #10 in the title?  More on that in a bit.  Despite the fact that I still have a lot of work to do to be competitive again, I decided to go anyway and give it my best shot.

Friday's stage was an individual time trial around 12 miles.  This was my first time trial in a long time and it was actually pretty fun...although I did have to dust off the TT bike.  Hey, what can I say...I prefer racing directly against others.  I have never been pushed harder than some of the road races I have done in the past.  Plus you don't always control the situation adding to the fun and difficulty.  Despite my lack of form and training on the TT bike, I turned in a performance I was happy with.  I'm sure I left a good 30 seconds on the course because I was riding blind, no computer what so ever to measure anything.  I'll have that fixed by my next TT where hopefully the result will matter a little more than just training.

Finishing the TT.
Post TT deep thoughts.

Saturday brought a 65.5 mile road race which included the infamous Devil's Kitchen on a nice hot 90+ degree day.  Since many of you have never heard of Devil's Kitchen, let's just say it makes the Devil's Backbone back in Ohio look like...not even child's play, it doesn't even register compared to the Devil's Kitchen.  My goal was to stay with the peloton until the base of Devil's Kitchen and then simply survive.  Well, I achieved my goal but it was waaaay harder that I ever thought it would be.  Only a few miles in, we hit the first climbs of the day.  Nothing too serious but the peloton was in a serious mood causing many watts to be poured out even on the minor stuff.  About 6 or 7 miles in, I was taken out on a climb by some guy who rode into someones wheel and took a hard right turn directly in front of me.  I was even riding in the top third of the field!  I didn't go down but I did smack my left hand and brake hood and had to clip out, stop, and untangle.  I sorted things out quickly and chased back on without any major issue, fixing my crooked brake lever along the way.  From there things got worse as we climbed toward the first KoM of the day.  Gunning from the back is never ideal, especially on a climb which means constantly going around those getting gaped but I had no option thanks the crash.  Well, one moment's inattention was all it took and some guy gaped several of us a good 50 feet off the peloton and I was pinned in.  I finally broke free as a Cosmic rider went flying by to bridge up so I jumped his wheel.  We rejoined as the peloton made a left turn and the road kicked up for the final climb to the KoM.  By now I was in the red and couldn't hang onto the back as the cracks opened up.  Luckily the climb wasn't too terribly long and we had a nice descent to catch back on so I rode my pace to the top.  Once over the top, I had company from three teammates from another team who were chasing hard.  I let them work a while and then jumped in as one of them started to tire.  Shockingly it took longer than I figured and more energy than I expected to catch back on.  Once back, it was pure survival mode given the number of matches I had burned.  Heck, I think I stole someone else's matchbook because I didn't realize I had as many as I did with my limited fitness!  Regardless, once the descent slowed and the rollers started, hanging on was all I could do.  I managed to get a brief reprieve as the course completely flattens/bottoms out about 6-7 miles before Devil's Kitchen.  It was then that I knew it didn't matter, I was done.  56 miles in, I was immediately dropped at the base of Devil's Kitchen and after a couple minutes of climbing, stopped, dismounted, and began to walk.  Walk, really?  Well yes and I wasn't alone by any stretch of the imagination.  You see, Devil's Kitchen consists of 1.4 miles at 16% average and totals 2.1 miles of climbing depending where you measure from.  So yes, I walked.  This bitch makes Brasstown Bald look reasonable.  Both times I have ridden it I have been in complete shock at the gradient.  You cannot comprehend this climb until you have seen it and ridden up the beast plain and simple.  For a detailed write-up, check out this post I found from last year from some guy...

http://thedailygrind.robdamanii.com/2011/08/09/getting-fried-in-the-devils-kitchen/

And if you wonder why it is called Devil's Kitchen, it is because even on a cool day, the heat comes out of nowhere on that climb and cooks you.  It is always hot, searing hot on that climb.  So back to the race, I eventually made it to the top with a series of ride/walk intervals.  Once the road returned to civil gradients, I was immediately back on it and strangly feeling better.  I rode the final 7ish miles strong and finished 59th of 73, somewhere around 15 minutes back.

Chilling before the start.  FGX was well represented, Ira almost won stage 2 and Jimmy took 6th overall

After recovering a little and taking in what seemed like a ton of fluids, it was clear I was pretty beaten up...mentally and physically.  After three consecutive race weekend beatings, by the time Sunday rolled around the weekend had stopped being fun.  The though of fighting just to cling to the back of the peloton yet again was extremely demoralizing.  A minor point was that Stage 3 was the hardest of the race and generated plenty of buzz among the top riders regarding difficulty.  By the time the start rolled around, I packed up and called it a weekend.  Mentally, I was cooked.  It has been a long, challenging road back to health and riding/racing and there's way more to it than I've ever written about here. Not that that is an excuse, but I gave it my best shot and failed.  While some cannot accept or even admit failure, that Sunday it wasn't very tough to accept and admit failure.  Being the competitive person I am, I did beat myself up a bit over my decision...quitting is never easy.  But hindsight being 20/20, the real failure would have been not attempting something so challenging for me for fear of not finishing.  It took me a few days but I'm proud of what I accomplished that weekend.  Those close to me know just how much of a victory that failure actually was.  Maybe next time I'll plan a less grueling comeback haha. 

 

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Mt. Greylock

My posts are a little out of order but that's what happens sometimes when you are playing catch-up.  For Tour of the Hilltowns, my wife and I stayed in Williamstown MA and decided to make a weekend out of the race.  On Sunday, we rode Mt. Greylock...the highest peak in MA tucked up in the northwestern corner.  We started out Sunday morning and climbed the north face first, descended the south face, turned around and climbed the south face, and then descended the north face back to Williamstown.  It was an absolutely beautiful day and afforded me the opportunity to get some more steady climbing into my legs.  Mt. Greylock tops out at 3,491 feet and the northern ascent is about 7 miles in length while the southern ascent comes in around 10 miles.  Both are beautiful but I enjoyed the northern ascent the most.  The view from the top was outstanding and given the clear conditions, we could see four states.  Here are a few pictures from the day...









Now I can check one more state's highest peak off my list!


Race #8 - Capital Region Road Race

After getting my ass handed to me at Tour of the Hilltowns, I decided to jump into another hard road race the following weekend...Capital Region Road Race.  Brillant idea I know!  FGX lined up with six in the Cat 3 race as the rain began to fall.  We had a pretty good line-up with three strong riders, Jimmy, Ira, and Alexi and three on the rebound, Etsu, Darius, and myself.  For me it was another training race and I simply hoped to stay with the peloton as long as possible.  Soon we were under way as the rain began to pick up a bit.  We headed through the feed zone neutral then the pace car sped off and the race was underway.  The pace immediately picked up and seemed to stay at a fairly high level.  The course rolled for the first 6 miles until we hit the first serious climb, a 2-mile stair step climb that seemed to never end.  I slid backward as we climbed but I did manage to hang onto the back of the peloton.  I was again surprised at the wattage the Cat 3 peloton climbs at as the pace seemed aggressive.  My next focus was to recover as quickly as possible because the second kicker of a climb was only a couple miles later.  Before I knew it we were already there and we turned off onto a small side road that seemingly shot straight up and bent around a turn.  I was immediately in trouble as I had yet to recover and I began to slip away from the peloton, a familiar feeling these days.  After I rounded the bend, the road continued upward in excess of 10%.  The top was so close yet so far.  After I crested the climb, I was able to quickly pick up the pace and eventually collected a few other riders.  We worked together for the most part until we hit a main road with some gradual rollers.  On the first roller I heard a yell from the back and we had dropped a rider.  We eased up and waited figuring it was best to remain together.  This happened on the next two rollers and by the third time, I kept the hammer down and never looked back.  At that point, I could see the cars trailing the peloton...I'll be damned if I was waiting again.  A total of three of us hammered ourselves back into the peloton over the next few miles.  I sat in and tried to recover as best I could knowing more climbs were only a few miles away.  As we hit the feed zone climbs, I was shot and dropped away, this time for good.  I continued on after a short debate on dropping out.  I wanted to get at least another good lap in before I'd consider anything.  About 6 miles into the second 20 mile lap, the skies completely opened as I soldiered on.  I didn't seem to mind, in fact it was nice to be out there alone in the pouring rain.  I hooked up with another rider for the last half of the lap and we started rotating.  Unfortunately the sensations weren't right for me, something was off.  I was completely fatigued.  At the end of the second lap, I pulled out of the race.  As I headed back to the car I ran into Darius headed back to the finish line to cheer on the rest of the FGX guys.  I grabbed my rain jacket and did the same.

Afterward, I learned that both Darius and Etsu were dropped before I was.  Neither of them had a good day either quite obviously.  I did manage to take the race for what it was, more training, and not beat myself up too much.  I knew I still had a ways to go to be competitive again.  My goal now became gathering as much fitness as possible and then rest up before Tour of the Catskills.  ToC would be another gamble of a race for me but I was committed to at least giving it my best shot...but that's another post.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

City Nights

For all the ups and downs I've had in this city, and the good and bad that urban living brings...some times you simply can't beat this place.  Tonight was one of those nights where the ride home was simply amazing.  After gathering with teammates at Veselka downtown for post ride/race eats, three of us headed back uptown on 3rd Ave. The iconic Chrysler Building loomed up ahead, beautifully lit while every now and then I'd catch a glimpse of the Empire State Building off to my left.  The city was so alive as we cruised along, everyone seemingly out having a good time.  It was a scene out of a movie or a picture from a post card, likely something you wouldn't understand until you've at least visited here.  It has been over two years that I've lived in the city and at least once every week, this place still leaves me with a lasting impression you simply can't get anywhere else.  Typically best experienced from a bicycle...

Lucky #7? Tour of the Hilltowns

This past weekend I headed up to northwest Massachusetts for my first road race back since getting hit. In all honesty, I was quite apprehensive about doing this race since I knew my fitness was questionable.  I’ve had many ups and downs since coming back to training, some physical (sickness) and some mental/motivational as a result of getting hit.  But mostly it has just been a struggle to move on.  Further medical treatment has now been denied after a farcical “evaluation” by a supposed “independent” doctor for the state’s insurance company.  I have half a notion to file suit for medical malpractice considering the doctor never did 95% of the evaluation tests she claims she did during my appointment leading to this outcome.  It makes me sick how corrupt the system is every step of the way.  Now to see what they decide to pay out for my damaged bike.  But this post isn’t about that crap, it is about moving on and racing my bike again.

Over the past week, I slowly convinced myself to enter the Tour of the Hilltowns…primarily since it had a 4 mile climb.  I figured this would play into my favor even if I wasn’t in great shape.  The day of the race turned out to be absolutely beautiful with a high of 80F and only a few clouds in the sky.  At 10:30AM we rolled off on the 56 mile course which consisted of 12 rolling miles followed by a several mile descent.  Around mile 22, we hit the 4 mile climb followed by approximately 25 miles of gradual rolling roads.  The last few miles had a few climbs, nothing too serious gradient wise but still enough to split the remaining groups up even more. 

Prior to the start, the promoter warned us about the steep descent at mile 12 due to rough pavement and many cracks in the pavement that ran parallel to the road.  Given this information, I rode the first part of the race in the top 10-15 riders to ensure I was well positioned for the descent.  It was good to be back in the peloton, it felt like I never missed a race.  I probably spent a little more energy on positioning rather than hiding in the peloton but after rolling a few of the short descents in the first 12 miles at 45mph+ in a peloton of 60-70 riders, I was willing to fight a little for good positioning.  Before I knew it, we turned onto the old narrow road and we began to plummet down toward the river.  The road was in reasonable shape with only a few pot holes here and there however the cracks were quite a bit more worrisome.  They were rather wide cracks that ran nearly parallel with the road mostly in the center of the lane.  And yes, the centerline rule was in effect forcing the peloton to deal with the cracks.  I descended on the left side of the peloton and left a little room to the rider in front of me so I had a clear view of the pavement.  I would say it was never racking but really I was too focused to be nervous.  Over the worst part of the descent, we rarely dipped below 40mph with a maximum speed of 47mph riding inches apart.  Most everyone rode smart which impressed me quite a bit, although there are always one or two idiots who think the race is won on the descent.  I did see two almost crashes. The first guy that almost went down hit a pot hole triggering him to clamp on his front brake and doing an endo in the middle of the peloton and the second guy hooked his tires on a crack.  Both escaped going down at high speed either due to skill or luck, maybe a little of both!  While the descent seemed to last forever, it wasn’t long afterward that we turned left up E. Hawley Road and hit the 4 mile climb.  The first kick was fairly steep and I was slightly shocked when I looked at my powermeter nailed around 400 watts.  It only let up slightly after the first step and picked right back up on the second step of the climb.  This is where I started to slide backwards wondering how long they could hold this pace.  Well, apparently long enough to spit me right out the back.  At least I wasn’t alone but I was suffering.  I fought as best I could but the power wasn’t there.  The peloton hung just in front of me for a while and I thought I might have stabilized the gap but then we rounded a bend and they started to pull away yet again.  The steps eventually evened out to a steadier climb and I seemed to find a rhythm and started reeling in other dropped riders.  I crested the climb with two fighting to hold my wheel and I immediately brought the speed back up.  For quite a while, I held a good pace but knew I couldn’t maintain it.  I pulled off and the other guys pulled through as we reeled in another rider.  We rotated through a couple times and then one guy drills it up a short climb and I was gapped.  Yet another stupid Cat 3 racer that has no clue about tactics.  Once dropped, it's best to work together with as many as possible to stabilize and maybe close back up on others.  At this point, it was clear I wasn’t going to close the gap.  My stomach had been giving me some issues since the climb and I simply didn’t have it.  I was looking at nearly 30 miles solo with a bad stomach.  Food and drink mix were not sitting well which is unusual for me.  All I wanted was water but I still had another 8 miles to the feed zone.  I slugged my way through to the feed zone and luckily got a bottle of water from some stranger, skipping the drink mix bottle my wife had for me.  The remainder of the race was uneventful as I struggled along.  I rode reasonably well until a little after 2 hours when my lack of endurance kicked in.  When I hit the final few climbs coming into the finish, I managed to resurrect some reasonable watts…mostly because I wanted to be done.  I caught five other dropped cat 3 riders and went straight to the front and kept my pace.  They jumped on my wheel and we rolled in over 20 minutes down.  I finished 46th out of the 56 finishers.  This certainly wasn’t lucky #7.  Well, maybe it really was lucky #7 in the sense that I was once again racing. 

After the race, I talked with my teammate Jimmy who finished sixth, getting dropped from the winning break within a couple miles of the finish.  He mentioned this was the toughest race he has done all season and he's done some rough races.  He also expressed some shock at how quickly they flew up the 4 mile climb.  That’s something coming from Jimmy who is super strong this season.  Post race analysis of my data shows I climbing 30-40 watts off where I should be which explains a lot.  Well, I knew I wasn’t in great form and that was confirmed.  But at least I was back out there racing, even if my fitness has a long way to go.  It would be easy to hide until my form comes back around and then race, but what fun would that be?

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

The long road back

I know, things have been quiet on this blog for a while now.  I've been focused on getting back to 100% mentally and physically and I'm getting close I think.  Physically I'm still fighting a painful strenoclavicular joint with some limited range of motion.  More stretching and exercises to hopefully restore things back to normal.  The partially torn ligament seems to be nearly better but maybe still a little weak.  Mentally thing have been much more challenging.  I'm back on the bike however it took weeks to get the gumption together to head out across the GWB on my own.  I spent nearly two weeks just riding in Central Park and was paranoid of every car that came near me and angry at every driver that got a little too close or zipped by a little too fast.  Not good when you ride in a city of over 8 million people.  Then I took a few rides across the GWB with teammates, strangely and coincidentally avoiding the intersection where I was hit every time.  Then I committed to a Tuesday evening ride last week and was meeting my teammates at the GWB at 4:30PM.  This meant I was riding to the bridge alone close to the time of day I was hit which usually means heavy traffic.  Shockingly traffic was light and I rode through the intersection for the first time.  Ironically I saw a white full size Ford work van parked on the side shortly before I came to the intersection.  Riding alone like this may not seem like a big deal to most people...unless you've actually been plowed over by some inattentive, rushed driver.  It's OK though because he didn't see me.  For me it was a small victory but I still have reservations about traffic.  Then my teammate Darius talked me into racing Thursday night in Rockleigh NJ which meant another late afternoon trip to the GWB to meet teammates at 4:45PM.  This time, there was quite a bit more traffic than Tuesday and I was running a few minutes behind.  While definitely having a heightened sense of the cars around me, I made my way to the GWB and hardly thought about that day at the end of March.  So I think I'm back on the mental side for the most part.

Speaking of this past Thursday night, I failed to mention that the race was 21 miles away and it was pushing 100F when I left.  I raced the 1/2/3 category and was hoping to simply hang onto the peloton given my lack of fitness and the heat.  The race was an hour long plus two laps on a mile course consisting of a road around a church and a retirement home.  At 6PM sharp, we lined up and were off.  The first 20 minutes were rough as attacks continually went off the front and the peloton surged to shut things down.  Eventually the pace settled into a more steady rhythm and I focused on getting more comfortable cornering again.  The heat was taking its toll as the race wore on and I was ready for it to be over.  Of course the pace picked back up for the last 3-4 laps as guys continually tried to get a gap.  I hung on at the tail of the peloton and finished near the back, my first race back was now in the books.  Not much to write about in all honesty...sitting at the back of the peloton for an hour.  None the less, it was a start.  After the race, four of us from FGX Racing headed back to the city to call it a day.  We stopped at a food market on the way and proceeded to drink as much as we could tolerate.  The heat was still brutal and only dropped to 92F by the time I returned home after 9PM.  The ride back into the city across the GWB and down Riverside Drive was nice as the city lights started to pierce the growing darkness as the twilight faded.  It was a nice, brief distraction from the heat but I immediately resumed counting down the miles until I was home.  I rolled in with 72.4 miles on the day and immediately proceeded to lay directly in front of the air conditioner for the first 15 minutes.  I was cooked from the heat but amazingly my legs tolerated the long day better than I had expected. 

This past Saturday, I rode with several teammates to Nyack via Clausland Mountain Road and Bradley Tweed Road to be sure we had enough climbing on the day.  For me it was a pretty tough ride since the guys held a spirited pace a good chunk of the way.  Unfortunately I don't think it was so hard for the boys though.  I see rare glimpses of what could be again and many, many reminders of where I actually am today.  It is amazing how much two months will set your training back.  Right now, my cumulative training load is approximately where I was in late January or early February...and I'm trying to compete with guys right in the thick of their season.  It is a frustrating time to make a comeback but the late season form will be nice when everyone is burnt.  Plus there are a couple of late season climbing intensive races that I'm shooting for.  I'm even going to have to dust off the TT bike!  Hopefully I can end this season on a high note.  But for now it is back to the job at hand, making the long road back just a little shorter.

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Maybe one day...

...when this city/country finally gets its head out of its ass, things will change.  Maybe.


Hmm...all we need is an oil crisis, a protest, and the will to change.  Oh, and the realization that human life is more important than the automobile.  Sadly, we have a long way to go as it seems we are headed in the complete opposite direction.

Rebuilding

This past Friday marks the start of the road back to the bike with my first "ride" since I was hit.  I was cleared by the doctor to start spinning as my ankle allows so I attempted my first "workout" on a spin bike.  After an easy and lengthy warm up, I added a little resistance to see how things felt.  I made it 15 minutes before I started having pain in the front of my ankle, forcing me to back the resistance down.  Despite only being able to ride 45 minutes, it was nice to be doing something again...moving forward so to speak.  Unfortunately the spin bike wasn't completely comfortable due to my other injury, my left collar bone/sternum.  I was forced to support myself mostly with my right arm or ride sitting up.  I'm a long way from being back and I can't even imagine riding a real bike until my collar bone/sternum are in better shape.  I can imagine the pain the first time I hit a bump.  Two more weeks of physical therapy before the doctor decides to move into more aggressive treatment.  I'd be ecstatic to not need any additional treatment however progress seems to have stopped with the collar bone/sternum.  At least the ankle seems to be healing so I have the spin bike to keep me entertained in the meantime.  I guess the up side is that I'm on the Vince Clune training timeline now.  I should be ripping by August/September haha!

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Why Tour of the Battenkill is so awesome...

For two years now I have repeatedly blogged about riding in the Battenkill valley, racing the Tour of the Battenkill, and Cambridge NY in general.  Unfortunately it probably isn't something you can put into words, you really have to experience the roads first hand.  Having ridden a fair amount in Europe and the eastern US, the Battenkill valley is one of my most favorite places to ride, and the Tour of the Battenkill is definitely my favorite race by a long shot.  After a strong finish last year, I had high hopes for this years race.  The new course was good with a punishing final 18 miles and I was closing in on my best form in quite some time.  Unfortunately it wasn't to be, the universe had other plans for me.  None the less, my wife and I still headed up to Cambridge for the weekend to support my teammates, much better than sitting on the couch being depressed.  For me, it was a very tiring weekend physically.  Although I am making significant progress healing up, I am still nursing injuries and this was the first real venture out of any significance. 

The amateur races were held on Saturday and our boys did the team proud.  Ben won the cat 4 race and Jimmy finished 5th in the cat 3 field.  I knew Jimmy was going to be strong when we reconned the new course a few weeks earlier and he was climbing really strong when we hit the last kick in the groin, aka Stage Rd.

FGX Racing Cat 4 Tour of the Battenkill crew (Ben holding the winner's chocolate milk)

Sunday brought the UCI 1.2 Tour of the Battenkill professional race.  Since I know the roads rather well from all my trips up to Cambridge, we hopped in the Jeep and headed out on the course for a better view.  Wow were we in for a treat.  Upstate had not had rain for two weeks and this was the driest I have ever seen the course which meant one thing...dust, and lots of it!  Our first stop was at the top of the first Meeting House Rd. climb some 45ish miles into the race.  What a sight, that's all I can say.  It was good to see the pros working just as hard as us wannabes.  The race and its caravan was impressive, very cool to see a professional race on the same roads I ride and race.  Our second stop was on the opposite side of the course, a serious kicker of a climb (somewhere around 20%...on dirt!) known as Juniper Swamp.  No racer refers to it as "Juniper Swamp Rd." but rather simply Juniper Swamp, the infamous climb that has been walked up in races similarly to the Koppenberg in the Tour of Flanders.  We just barely beat the peleton there and hung out as the long dropped riders came through.  Once the race was through, I decided to drive Juniper Swamp to head back to Cambridge for the finish. Two dropped pro riders were struggling up the base of the climb as we were heading up and when they moved over I pulled along side and put both front windows down and offered a ride.  It was funny to see their white teeth shining through their dirt covered smiling faces as they latched on, one on each side.  We talked on the way up and unfortunately they both had bad luck some 20 miles back.  They were likely cutting the course back into town since there was no way they were finishing, they didn't want to make their teams wait.  When we reached the top, they thanked me over and over and I wished them well.  Unfortunately I didn't think to offer them a ride back to town until we were well on our way.  I was more focused on getting them safely up the climb.  Hopefully their ride back was as comfortable as possible.  Once we were back in town, we watched the finish and called it a day.  While I kept the walking and physical activity to a bare minimum, it was an exhausting few hours for me since my body was still recovering.  We retired to the hotel for burgers and drinks.  Amazingly, the hardest day for me to watch was Sunday, the pro race.  The beauty of the sport definitely struck a chord that day.









Saturday, April 21, 2012

A little behind...

Thomas Eddison Films, 1899???  It looks like those fixed grear hipsters were a little behind the times haha!  What a piece of history.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

In the blink of an eye...

It was over in a matter of a few seconds. The shock however lingered for weeks. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the great start to my 2012 season was over. My form that was approaching and likely to eclipse my best season ever (2008) was gone, over. The never ending legs that I could simply ask for more no longer mattered. Suddenly the things that seemed so critical were no longer important.

On Friday, 30 March, I set out for a training ride much like any other day. Except on that beautiful day, I took off work early to get a long hard ride in on the other side of the Hudson River. All I wanted to do was suffer through some hill repeats and enjoy the beauty that is Henry Hudson Drive and the Palisades Park. Unfortunately I never made it there. I came to an intersection, the light was green and the intersection was clear so I proceeded straight through the intersection...except I never made it to the other side.  Instead, a full size work van traveling the opposite direction made a left turn and sped across the intersection hitting me on my left side, what cyclists know as a "left cross."  Moments before the impact, I saw the van speeding toward me however there was no escaping the inattentive driver this time, he was simply going too fast to give me any option other than a direct hit.  And a direct hit it was, throwing me well clear of the accident up the side street.  Weeks later, it is a memory I have yet to shake.  To add insult to injury, I was also a victim of the "I never saw you" excuse...except that I was right there in plain sight in broad daylight for all to see in a bright white jersey.  "I never saw you" is an admission of negligence, not that that amounts to anything in this country.  Miraculously, I suffered no life threatening injuries.  I have suffered injuries however this is not the place nor the time to go into it, I'll let the doctors and lawyers deal with that.  I'm lucky, it could have been so much worse.

Since the accident, every day has presented its own set of challenges.  Initially it was the constant physical pain, then the mental toll had to be dealt with once everything settled in.  Now I am left with the lingering after effects.  Unhealed injuries, doctors, physical therapy, lawyers, missed work, and on and on.  The disappointment has been overwhelming at times on so many different levels.  The lack of rights a victim has as a result of "the system" is staggering, sickening.  And in the end it almost equates to more punishment for the victim.  Maybe one day I'll go into the full story because it is an eye-opener, but for now I'm simply trying to move on.  I'm thankful every moment of every day that I'm still here and in one piece.  And the craziest thing of all is why I am even in this situation in the first place...because one careless person was in a big ass hurry to get to where, the next red light a few hundred feet up the road?  Yep, that's what it amounts to.
Be safe out there.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Unstoppables

Here's some serious motivation for training...

Unstoppables from black train films on Vimeo.

POWER!!!

With powermeters being used throughout the pro peloton, it is interesting to hear about and see what the pros are exactly capable of and it is unbelievable.

Example #1: Taylor Phinney, 2012 Omloop Het Nieuwsblad, 400 watts for 3 hours, 371 watts normalized power for the entire race!

Example #2: Simon Gerrans, 2012 Milan-San Remo, 1,188 watts to hold Cancellara's and Nibali's wheels up the Poggio, 400 watts over the final 2km while sitting behind Cancellara (who was probably somewhere north of 550 watts), topped off with  a 1,300-watt sprint at 60kph after 300km to take the win!

For those of us amateurs out there with powermeters, these numbers are astronomical.  Sure, no problem to win a pro race, right?  Easy peasy.

Ronde van Vlaanderen Recon

Here's a nice little recon video for the Tour of Flanders tomorrow.  Pretty amazing comparing the pros to us mere mortals.

Monday, March 19, 2012

A dark day

This past weekend marked race numbers 4 and 5, again at the Bethel CT Spring Series.  Despite the beautiful day, it turned out to be anything but.  The 3/4 race got under way like normal with our team defending the yellow jersey being worn by Darius.  I was coming off two weeks of being sick (some sort of nasty head/chest cold that's going around the NE) and was unsure of how I'd ride.  As the race got underway, I rode conservatively but always stayed near the front on the inside, my favorite place to be.  There was more wind this weekend making it a little tougher toward the front.  Darius stayed hidden in the peloton while Etsu, Josh, and I tended to things at the front, always keeping an eye on Darius' rivals.  Turns out I was feeling reasonable and started engaging in the race, running down a few attacks and sitting on.  Hey, I have a yellow jersey to defend...can't let a serious threat go away.  As we wound down the laps, we were coming around the back stretch and there it was, that horrendous sound of a crash.  It happened about 3-4 bike lengths behind me on the other side the best I could tell.  I immediately pulled far right into the wind and clear of the peloton and started looking for Darius and other teammates.  Shortly there after, Darius came rolling up.  At first the race resumed normal and went neutral as we passed the crash site.  There was still one rider down but I don't think anyone thought too much of it just yet.  We kept pace with no one seemingly sure what to do.  The second time past the crash neutral, there was still a rider down and he hadn't moved an inch.  I was still in the front 3 or 4 and we just rode easy and never resumed racing.  Heading down the hill, Etsu (our director) rolled up and suggest we formally go neutral to which we all agreed.  Right after that, two guys rolled up questioning why we weren't racing and which official had neutralized the race which they argued was still on.  That was all it took and the front of the peloton collectively went off on them and they quickly folded under the pressure.  We rolled by once more and the rider was still motionless.  As we crested the hill the officials stopped the race and told us to sit in the corner of the parking lot.  It was a surreal atmosphere with everyone fearing the worst.  A while later the ambulance rolled away and we heard he was still unconscious but had a pulse, everyone hoping for the best.  After a short delay, they lined up the 1/2/3 race and we all had to get our heads back into the game.

At this point of the story, the 1/2/3 race doesn't really matter anymore.  Late this morning, we learned that the guy passed away from head injuries.  Needless to say, the racing community here is in a state of shock and I know of several teammates taking long solo rides to think things through.  Actually, one of those would probably be quite therapeutic right about now.

Regardless, the real reason I wrote this post it twofold.  First, shit can happen...and sometimes it is bad shit.  We spend hours in the saddle and a moment's inattention can be all it takes.  Never take your safety for granted and always pay attention to what is going on.  Second, when the accident happened yesterday, they only had one "In Case of Emergency" number that turned out to be an ex-wife.  For whatever reason, she wanted nothing to do with the situation.  It turns out the guy was from Germany and the rest of his family was in Germany.  None of his teammates had any contact information available.  We never like to think it can happen to us or someone we know...but it in fact can happen.  Luckily it rarely has an outcome this devastating.  But what would you do?  Do you know where to find emergency contact info for fellow riders while on a ride?  Is their/your phone locked with a password?  Where do you keep your information?  Would someone know where to find it?  What if you are riding alone or on the trails?  Does anyone know where you went or when to expect you home?  Personally, I've always been a believer in Road ID, especially after getting stoned in the park.  We are selfish enough with the hours we spend in the saddle for our pleasure, there's no need to be any more selfish and not think of loved ones...just in case.

For the better part of my life, I've lived life on my terms.  Many memories still plaster my face with a big smile, thinking of great times gone by.  I don't intend to change living life on my terms now at my old age haha.  There are simply too many great experiences waiting out there.  So tomorrow, just like today, I'll strap on my shoes and helmet and saddle up.  Just be smart, stay safe, and enjoy the ride...because this little ride we call life is a precious commodity.