So a couple of weeks ago I sent in my application to upgrade to Cat 4 Road Racing. I have completed the necessary 10 mass starts required to get the upgrade and feel pretty good about hanging with the 4s given the effort I had in a previous 4/5 race which was mostly 4s. I've also done 2 training crits at Matteson in the 1/2/3 category and managed to hang with those guys as well....suprising even myself. Note to all wannabe crit racers: you don't have to have massive power to race crits. You have to be able to go anerobic for short bursts and handle the surges but don't think you have to lay down serious wattage for long spells. If you're smart about conservation you can find ways to be efficient. Of course, you will need serious power to win or place in the top ten but if you want to finish with the pack, get a great workout and have some fun then several weeks of intervals will have you there easily.
I got an email back from Steve Thordarson (the Illinois upgrade Czar) saying that he was in Canada coaching the national team and would get to my upgrade as soon as he returned. Well with the race appearing on the horizon and by the Wednesday prior, I still had not received word. I was luckily in town for the weekend and decided to try and race. The Cat 5 entries (both groups) were oversubscribed and Cat 4 was my only hope. I sent an email to Steve which he quickly returned saying I could race Cat 4 and tell the organizers to call him if they had any issue. Well I signed up online only to receive an email saying I was clearly myopic or incredibly over confident because I had signed up for the wrong race and they were putting me in Masters 30+ Cat 4/5. OK, great. I was OK to do that race but wanted to do the Elite 4s first. I emailed to this regard but heard nothing. I'll sort it out on race day is what I thought.
The day before was my little daughter's birthday and I decided (bad decision) to ride the 26 miles to see her, be there for her party and festivities and then return biking the remaining 26 miles. I would take it easy I thought. I won't go close to threshold and I would use this as sort of a base training warm up. It's always good to find out what doesn't work the day before a race. We're amateurs after all. All the other races where I've done well (against my goals), I have rested a lot. It turns out that this 'little' ride averaged
A couple of other 'learnings' from that day: Get great sleep and wave off that last glass of wine! I think it's ok to have two glasses the night before as long as you are well hydrated and get some good sleep. Scratch all of that!
So I get up (late) on race day, figure out that it's 12 miles to the race and that I would be riding. Quickly scoff down some cheerios, a bannana and some cytomax pre-race fuel which is carb intense and nice and chocolatey...perfect fo rthe morning. I followed this with a stiff Columbian brew and hopped on the bike to get on down to Sherman Park. Note to self: make sure you bring dry clothes, a towel and additional food! Dumbo.
The ride to the crit was easy enough. I had a great tail wind. Although, I did get concerned as the road and neighborhood closer to the race was a little dodgy.
Approaching the track I see the first Cat 5 race start to get going. Guys are lining up. I cross over the race track, ride through a deep pile of mud (which is probably still on my bike) and rode up to the registration. Here I went back and forth with the registrar about my upgrade and finally sorted everything out. One of the women behind the desk said, congrats on your upgrade! It was a nice little warming touch.
By now the coffee and food has kicked in and I needed to take a slash (to borrow a South Africanism) and send a fax (another beauty!). So I'm sitting on the can, trying to pin on my numbers and get business done when my phone goes off! Needless to say I didn't answer but sent a highly cryptic text in return. Something like: "On the can. Pinning numbers. Must get fax sent. Call later. T"
After answering the call I immediately headed over to the start/finish line. There was no warm up. I didn't get to see the track and rolled up to see my new Cat 4 buddies. Fortunately I saw Drew Kusnik from the Spidermonkeys and Moshe from RVB. So I at least knew I had someone there to follow. I also noticed Eric Christ who was a standout Cat 5 racer and someone to watch as well. I think there were close to 70 riders at the line.
We go through the usual official speeches and then we're off. And I mean OFF! It didn't start like a usual crit. Rather it was like a pack of Arabians leaving the gates with jockeys whipping their behinds in a blur of carbon tubes, race livery and slashing spokes. It got strung out f a s t! I was late to clip in and had to put some serious power down to catch up. I guess I was in about the last third of the pack as we rounded the first corner and then flew down a seriously bumpy stretch of road. All in all, the track was like a NASCAR oval - no turns to speak of, just flat out hammering with a slight lift (you car racing guys will get the term) for the slight downhill and a blast of gas on the gentle rise heading into start/finish. For the first several laps I think we averaged around 30 mph. It was certainly the fastest crit I have been in and it felt tough but for a reason I didn't expect: It was dangerous. And dealing with danger seems to sap energy. The riding was very skittish and getting boxed in was not fun. There was a distinct mayhem to the pack. It certainly was not very well organized. Managing this seemed easier and more controlable in the drops. And there I sat trying to figure out how to assert myself on this angry mob of riders going 30+ mph over very rough terrain not caring abotu anyone around them.
One of the keys to crits in my mind is asserting yourself in the front 10 riders at all times but especially at the end. In my previous races this was not terribly difficult to do. Things were smooth. But here, everytime I got into a good position it seemed like riders would swarm from either side and the middle would slowly implode leaving me to get sucked back into the pack. Not an overly comfy feeling! I kept trying to attack the outside and gain position that way and it worked. I should just have been more agressive to maintain it...but I felt like I didn't have enough gas in the tank and wanted to hold back and conserve.
About midway through the race I see a rider about 4 bikes ahead getting sideways, some yelling and screaming and he takes another guy out and they fall outwards and directly into my line. It was all happening in slow motion and I thought in an instant that this would be my first crit crash. Thoughts of trying to bunny-hop the flailing riders came to mind but instead I smoothly pulled around them on the outside. The noise was sickening. Dull thuds and crackling carbon was all I heard. Like elephants stamping through the bush. I didn't look back but by now most of the field had gone by. Not sure why but at that point I immediately thought: my race is done, I should just go in. And then I said: nope, chase on, you'll be fine. So I did and found cover in the pack.
This skittish, school of sardines, swaying one way and then swishing another kept the hammer down for most of the race. No one was getting away from the pack and the nervousness continued. Drew did slip away for the prime which was excellent and I thought he might stay away but he was eventualy consumed by the school which had morphed from sardines to Garricks. Teeth barring, mouths open, all consuming.
I'm not sure what happend or why I let this happen but on the final lap I didn't move up well enough like I was now used to. I guess I just blanked out or thought I had no business trying. This is such a wrong thought that it must be banished, deleted, purged, stamped out with intensity and never come back. There's only one reason you're in a crit and that is to win or place in the top ten. so why leave anything out there? It's just one minute of pain, one minute of legs bursting, of blood pumping and single mindedness. Unless you are injured, you have to do everything in your power to attempt to get to the front. I mean everything.
I'm used to sprinting early and trying to hold to the line. That's how I've achieved my best results. In most cases this means coming out of a corner at around 23 mph and sprinting to 33 or so. In this race, by the time we got to the sprint, we were already doing 33! I've never practiced sprinting from 33+ so this was new territory for me. All I could do was hang on, gnash my teeth and plod to the line.
I ended up getting 44th which is essentially a pack finish and OK for my first 4 race. I may have not featured but I learned a lot. Here are my key takeaways:
1. Rest, rest rest
2. Sleep well the night before
3. Warm up well
4. Take a gel before the race - I forgot this time
5. Race to win - assert yourself on the top 5 on the last lap or go home
6. Don't experiment with diet the week before - not sure if this contributed but it could have
7. With nervous packs, get to the front and stay there
Afterwards, I watched my mate Andre race and then we both went and had lunch and chatted about our mistakes. Next time we are there to compete not observe. I can't wait.
Power plot from the race:
Average Power: 199W
Normalized Power: 228W
Average while pedaling: 247W
Max Power: 835W (no, this was not in a sprint....damnit!)
Surges: 30 greater than 4 W/kg...which is really pathetic. More on this in another post where I'll compare several different crits.
1 min power: 341W
2 min power: 286W
5 min power: 268W
20 min power: 220W
And this which is interesting:
Given the above, this was really not a difficult race from a power point of view. But I felt horrible and took a while to recover. Obviously the +3 hr solo ride the day before sucked some out of me and with this and the overall nervousness of the bunch I guess I used up something I never thought of. We live and learn.
No comments:
Post a Comment