Feeling Charitable
The first thing I did on Thursday morning earlier this week was to make an online donation to the Sierra Club in response to one of their recent pledge drives looking for money in response to the BP disaster. My next internet destination was BikeReg as the registration for one of my A-races had just opened up (Tour of the Hilltowns). Before I clicked on "submit" to close the deal through paypal, I decided to respond to yet another charitable call, and I donated to the Longsjo Classic Road Race.
I'm not racing there this year, but I gave them some money any ways. It seems like this venerable New England Stage Race has fallen on some hard times. Given that there seems to be a decline in the number of bigger races around here, and because I thought the race was so well run when I competed last year, I figured I'd chip in a little cash to help support New England's racing scene.
But my charitable streak didn't end there. I added to my cart one more BikeReg purchase -- an entry in the KB Crit in East Hartford. Based upon my lack-luster crit racing results (and more importantly my sub-par sprint) I knew I had a snowball's chance in hell of winning the race. So, when I made that last minute impulse decision to sign-up I more or less resigned myself to the fact that I was paying for what would amount to a glorified training ride for me. But, it's a race run by my former team and just the next town over, so I figured what the heck, charged yet another donation to my PayPal account.
So that's what it feels like!
Given that I had essentially resigned myself to mediocrity, I didn't bother resting up yesterday after a moderately taxing effort (but not taxing enough!) at the 3 Villages Race. I went out with the family to a town festival and enjoyed several Ten Penny Ales with teammate Dave J, and spent some fun but tiring time playing tickle monster with the girls. I stayed up late and woke up at the usual ungodly hour I normally wake up. Then, in a further act of disrespect for my chances at the crit, I road a good 14 miles of warm-up (including the 10 or so from my house) prior to the 20 lap race.
As I lined up with teammates Steve Y and Dave J, I was in good spirits. There was no pressure whatsoever on getting good race results, so I clipped in with a smile after the race official set us in motion. The smile slowly started to melt away in the heat of the first few laps. There was a pretty healthy turn-out for today's race, and I found myself towards the back-end of the pack. The accordion affect continually frustrated me with all of the wasted effort going into and coming out of each turn. By the 2nd prime completed, I had had enough, and decided that I was going to forget that I'm not a good crit rider, and my plan was now to attack!
As the bell rang at the start of the 3rd prime, I made my way up the outside between turns 1 and 2 and then tucked myself in near the front of the pack as everyone was scrunched together by the tight contours of turn 2. The steady headwind on the backstretch caused the leaders to tentatively look around and hope that someone else would come up and protect them. When I saw someone just ahead of me volunteer to press to the front, I dropped down a gear or two, put in a few explosive (explosive for me that is) pedal strokes, and then sat on his wheel as we skirted the short stretch between turns 3 and 4.
As we exited turn 4 and headed down the long straight away to the end of the lap, I came off of his wheel and eased left. The lead rider slowly disappeared off to my right, and after 13 seconds of all-out effort (810 Watt Avg) I crossed the finish line for my first ever Prime! In my oxygen deprived state I mentally celebrated thinking that I had just won $15 dollars (I learned later that it was a merchandise pack and not money). It wasn't much to win, but I never had won anything before today, and I had already chalked up today as a charitable $27 donation, so please cut me a little slack and don't laugh at the fact that I was beaming inside as I entered the next turn.
Be - Aggressive, B-E-Aggressive!
Now brimming with new-found confidence brought on by my Prime victory, I was further buoyed as I began to notice that my ability to recover and recharge was at a level I had never experienced before. Rather than just fall back in the pack to rest, I aggressively responded again and again to at least a handful of attacks.
The one incident that stood out most in my memory was after a two man break I had been in for nearly a full lap had been caught. As soon as the pack had closed the gap to us, three new guys countered and attempted to make their own attempt to go off the front. Without hesitation I slammed the shifter down and latched on to one of their wheels just in case they were able to get free (which they didn't). In the past there's no doubt I would have let them go and just hoped that someone else from the pack would close down their move as I rested. But not today! I don't know where it came from, but the combination of a seemingly newly minted pair of legs with a new-found level of assertiveness had me to the point of cockiness. I truly believed that I could battle my way at the front right until the end.
Well, unfortunately the combination of everything else I had listed above that I had done before the race plus some pretty good sprinters in the field put an end to my cockiness in the last two laps. As the pace cranked up, I found myself slowly moving back in the pack. I ratcheted up my own pace with as much of the reserves I could draw upon as we exited the final turn on the final lap, and I managed to pick off a few of the guys who had passed me earlier in the lap. But, by the time I crossed the finish line there were too many riders ahead of me to accurately count.
I'm guessing at least two dozen crossed the line before me in the bunch sprint, but I didn't bother trying to get a good count. My actual placing just didn't matter. I had completed what was without a doubt my most aggressive race, and I was pretty damn satisfied with how I had contested throughout. Plus, for the first time ever, I couldn't just leave the course right away and head home -- I had to wait around to collect a prize for the prime! The Giordana shirt, socks, and Wooden Bike Coffee I had won just barely fit into my jersey pockets, and it made for a really tight fit as I got back on the road for another 10 miles to get home, but at that point nothing bothered me. It turns out that my charitable donations came back and had paid me some unexpected dividends that I relived over and over again as I spun my way back to Glastonbury.
Me working with another rider in one of several short-lived break attempts, photo courtesy of Mrs SOC.
Looking to make another move , photo courtesy of Mrs SOC.
Final #s
- 0hr 43:04 (unofficial time from my PT, not race results)
- 18.54 miles
- 547 kJ
- Norm Power 255
- Avg Power 212
- Max Power 935
- Avg Speed 25.8
- Somewhere in the middle of a bunch sprint, same time as the winner (based upon what I counted, not official race results)
