Trainer Confessions

Announcing Awesome Autumn Adventures (AAAA)

 I initially entitled this post "Fall, Family, Friends, and Fun" as it got more to the point of this post, but FFFF didn't seem to be as upbeat of an ancroynm as AAAA.

My last post (Cat Up or Not) might have given some readers the impression that I rigidly live and breath intervals, work-outs, WKO+, and schedules.  However, my planning prowess can also be used for activities that might appeal to you non-sadists out there.  By the time my off-season was just a scan six days old, I already had something fun and interesting planned out right through November.

But this isn't a post for me to "wow" you with my organizational skills.  Instead, I'm hoping that in sharing my look ahead here at the Trainer Confessions, I might be able to drum up a little extra participation at some events that are sure to be a blast and will allow you to chaulk up some lasting memories.  But I'm also sharing this for a selfish reason -- I'm hoping to get a bunch of friendly faces to populate the field to increase my off-season fun factor.

Family

I already kicked off the off-season fun this past weekend with what I hope was the first of many "Spooky rides" (that's what my two little ones called it).  Mrs D and I both had our headlights on by the end of our hour long family rail trail ride on Sunday evening, but within a few weeks our rides will get a little scarier as we'll likely be barrelling down the Airline trail absent of any light aside what we're projecting from our handlebars.

Pulling over to turn the lights on

 
Good causes

Sticking with the family theme, Mrs D, the Train & the girls, and I will all line up for the 35 mile option at the Oct 1st Pedal for Paws (they also have a 25 mile and a 50 mile option).  Last year the girls got their first taste of pack riding (we even challenged Dave J for a town line sprint!) and they got such a thrill when the Expo contingent overtook us while loudly cheering for the girls.  And Mrs D got her first, second, and third tastes of what could have been the best-ever post ride dessert table, so there's something in store for all of the Desmarais family when we line up to help raise money for homeless cats.

 
But before the Desmarais clan heads to Old Saybrook, I will be headed down to New Haven this Saturday for a rally called Moving Planet.  Right now I plan to ride the 36 miles down to the 4 PM event alone (and likely be headed back again alone, but in the dark) so if you're interested in showing your support, please let me know.  Here's a short snippet on what the hole thing is about: "Moving Planet is a worldwide rally to demand solutions to the climate crisis. Come on bike, on skates, on a board, or just on foot."

Speaking of showing support, at the tail end of October I'll be lending a hand at the Expo Wheelmen's first ever Silk City Cyclo-Cross race at Manchester Community College.  I've never raced Cross before so even though I'll just be there in a support capacity, I'm excited to take part in what I've been told is a rockin' good time.  But in addition to the fun factor, helping at the event will allow me to in turn support the casuses of the event.  A portion of each entry will be donated to the MCC Foundation scholarship fund, and in cooperation with Manchester Community College there will be a food drive to benefit MACC Charities.  

 
Racing for Fun

For those of you who know my competive side, you'll surely realize that my appetite for racing won't be satied simply by helping and cheering at the Silk City race.  I've got two races penciled in for the fall, but in order to adhere to my FFFF guiding principle for the off-season, each race definitely needs to have a big Fun and Friends component.

I have no plans to break my promise to avoid intervals in preparation for my first race on Oct 22nd, but I might have to stop at Dunkin Donuts to get in some race day prep for the first ever Donut Derby.  I honestly cannot recall the last time I've eaten a donut (we're talking in terms of years here), so I'll clearly be at a disadvantage at this event as each donut consumed knocks off 90 seconds from your overall race time. 

On the other hand, Cycling Concept's Dirty Dozen race on Nov 5th plays right into my wheelhouse.  There's no way I can pass up on a hilly challenge that tackles 13 ascents up roads I regularly train on.  But the biggest reason I get excited about this race (I competed each of the last two years) is that the format of the race offers me a great way to chit chat and socialize with friends.  While everyone hauls butt up the hills as soon as the whistle blows (btw, the hills all can be climbed in 2 or3 minutes at most, many in far less time), the entire field regroups at the top.  So it amounts to a friendly group ride that gets painfully interupted by 13 min-races.

Glutton for Punishment

And the word pain is a nice segue to the final part of my off-season plan.  Though I admit that these two entries hardly adhere to the FFFF guidelines if done solo, I am hoping to recruit a few sadists to join me in my adventures.

Anyone interested in helping to break up the monotony of my first ever attempt at a double centry?  I don't have Columbus day off from work, so I've decided to ride home to CT from Cape Cod and let Mrs D and the girls extend their stay to a full three days.  I've completed a 192 mile ride last fall, but I had the luxury of three far more experieneced riders pulling me for probably the last 50 miles.  200 miles alone on Oct 9th might cause me to go crazy.

And speaking of crazy, I was inspired by the "Hill Junkie" to begin planning my own slightly shorter (with perhaps "only" 9,000 feet of climbing!) version of his Berkshire Boondoogle.  I'm aiming to do it on the weekend of Oct 15th so that the spectacular fall colors of Massachusett's Berkshire Mountains will help to ease my pain as I tackle hills (or should I say mountains) like Greylock and East Hawley.  Drop me a line if you might want to join me on this adventure.

That's all I've got for now, though I think it might be hard to cram anymore FFFF into my off-season.  That said, if there's something tempting that I've missed, don't hestitate to make your own Autumn Awesome Adventure Announcement.

Cat Up or Not?

Should I?

I started this post over a month ago (Aug 15th to be precise) to help clarify the thoughts I was wrestling with regarding my decision to upgrade (or not upgrade) from Cat 4 to Cat 3.  In the weeks leading up to the Green Mountain Stage race, I was weighing the pros and cons on the decision to upgrade, or to get another year of seasoning in as a 4 before making the jump.

On the "pro" side of the leger, the fields might possibly be safe as I'd be riding with more experienced cyclist.  But given that their also likely more competitive as well, the extra testosterone and aggression might offset the improved handling skills, thereby netting me no extra safety in an upgrade. 

The prize money for the 3s was another "pro", but the odds of me elevating my station from Cat 3 pack fodder to the podium are pretty low, and likely close to 0 in the season after graduating from the 4s. 

The final "pro" I had written down back in my August initial musings was a brief note "tougher competition will take me to new places".  It sounded like something to contemplate further, but I took that thought out of the oven while it was still raw and never got back to baking it until well done.

My list of "cons" ran deep, but in order to keep this post short(er), I've deleted a few and eliminated most of the ramblings I had in support of each bullet:

• I was a good (but not great) 38 year old Cat 4.  As a 39 year old Cat 3, I might being at best pack fodder. Will racing be as fun if the chances of winning (heck, even cracking the top 20) no longer are within arms reach for me?
• Cat 3 races ofter are longer (especially when they are Cat 1 - 3 races) -- will I need to somehow carve up more time to train to avoid being in the gruppetto bringing up the rear in every race?
• Can someone who's never even come close to breaking 1000 W (this year I never broke 950W) ever be considered a Cat 3?
• Most importantly, will I be forced to finally shave my legs to avoid being shunned by the smooth skinned Cat 3s?

Why did I?

I never finished off the original "should I upgrade?" post. The question was still unanswered as the post sat in a draft state when I came home from the GMSR.  But the deadly combination of the exuberance and jubilation from my success over labor day weekend mixed in with a liberal dosing of Long Trail Harvest Ale overwhelmed any rational decision making that hinged upon an answer to that question.  Within minutes of getting my final GMSR race report out, I opened up the USA Cycling website, typed up my 2011 race resume, and then hit submit!

Less than 24 hours later, I had my Cat 3 upgrade notification.  By then my head was no longer swimming in endophins and alchohol and I was back thinking more rationally.  What did I just do?  Better yet, why did I do it?

Was it driven my jealousy?  I've seen a bunch of familiar and friendly faces departing from my Cat 4 fields and instead lining up in the Cat 3 fields.  Was the grass greener on the Cat 3 side of the fence? For the reasons noted above, I doubted that was the case.

Was it subconsciously motivated by some animal like basic instinct to set myself apart from the other males to make myself more desirable to the opposite sex?  Evolution has driven the males of some species to put on big displays of strength or of physical stature to help the females select the most fit mates.  Perhaps something in my genes compelled me to dress up in ungodly colored spandex and strut around with my Cat 3 license much like nature compels a male peacock to seek out females with their bright feather displays and dances?  Maybe there's something to this hypothesis, but as Mrs D will attest, setting myself apart from the Cat 4s hasn't changed how she looks at me.

It wasn't for fame and glory, and it also wasn't done as a step towards replacing Lance on Radio Shack.  So why then did I do it?

The answer finally came to me days later.  After wrapping up my final race of the year, a hill climb up Mount Greylock, I went out on an easy exploratory ride with teammate Dave J.  My legs had already checked out and entered the off-season, which was perfect as it gave me a far too rare opportunity to ride at a casual talking pace.

Dave was telling me a story about some older guy who was reaping the benefits of his years of cycling.  Essentially the moral of his story was that riding the bike was a great means to an end (the end in the case being the goal of pushing out the end of your life). 

And then it clicked in my head and a smile came to my face, as I had my answer, but not the one you'd think.  I enjoy training.  I feel "normal" when supported by structure and planning.  I love diving into my Powertap #s, analyzing the intervals, and keeping track of PRs.  In sick way, I derive pleasure in setting my lungs on fire and beating my legs to a pulp. 

It may sound silly to you, but I know who I am and I'm not afraid to admit it. Moving up to Cat 3 is a means to an end, with the end for me being more more training, revised and restructured plans, and more struggling to walk up the stairs because I've flogged my legs one too many times. 

That said, I am now officially in the off-season, so my need for training, intervals, and structure has been put on hold for a couple of months.  Instead, all of my planning efforts will be redirected towards notching some sorely over-due social and/or exploratory autumn riding.  Looks like I have structure around my non-training time!

Race: Mount Greylock Hill Climb Time Trial

Going out on top (of Mount Greylock)

I originally didn’t plan on posting another “Race:” blog post until next year as my schedule had last weekend’s GMSR as my capstone event.  If anything, you’d should be reading about some off-season adventure ride or some look back upon what has been a 2011 season never to be forgotten.  But because of the pleading and persistence of Expo teammate Dave J, who practically begged me to extend my season one more week to join him at the NCC Greylock Hill Climb, I ask that you suffer through just one more 2011 racing post.  I’ll make it a short one though. 

I admit that the last paragraph contains an outright lie – Dave only sent a single email wondering if I was going to do the Greylock race, and I capitulated without any prodding from Dave (aside from his offer to give me a big cup of coffee to ease the pain of our very early departure time).  I hadn’t spent much time with friends lately, and I’ve never done a hill climb race before, so while I was still excited to start my well-earned off-season, I only hesitated for about 30 seconds before saying “yes” when asked if I wanted to head up to North Adams for one last race.  And in hindsight, it was a great decision. 

However, the race itself wasn’t much to write home about.  After fumbling the clip-in for the 2^nd straight race (all of which took place conveniently in front of the race photographer – I hope my kids don’t see any shots of the profanity I uncharacteristically let loose), I went into my normal Time Trial tunnel vision mode.  The only detail I can definitively share about the 8.9 mile climb is my minute by minute PowerTap readings as I was nearly oblivious to all that might have been going on around me.  

The rest of my recollections from the event are vague at best.  The pitch was never too serious, and I even found myself in the big ring for most of the last 3 miles.  I glanced up once and saw the Greylock tower off in the distance, and on a few occasions I caught what might have been a beautiful view of the Berkshire Mountains rising above cotton like clouds.  I also recall passing a few people along the way, including a duo racing the tandem competition. 

The actual memories though were only dreamlike interruptions during my zen-like focus on the PowerTap, so it was only after I passed by the finish line, recovered, and snapped a few photos that I was able to prove my dreams were not figments of my imagination.

A close-up view of the tower on top

 

You can see why my vague memories of the views during the race were dream-like. 

 

Hopefully some day I can convince Mrs D to join me for an adventure like this.

 

It was non-stop smiles for me for the rest of the day once I crossed the finish line as it meant I had officially wrapped up a 2011 racing season which had exceeded all my expectations.  Furthermore, all hours and miles on the bike from that moment onwards, through the rest of September, all of October, and most of November now had just three goals: fun, fun, and fun!  And I started successfully in pursuit of these three goals with a two hour post-race tour led by Dave J up and down the nearby country roads.

After tallying a total of 3:15 of riding time during the morning, the smiles continued off the bike as NCC (the team who put on the event) hosted a post-race BBQ, which amongst other things included a grin-inducing free fresh beer from the Berkshire Brewery (which I later on had to replenish with a 2^nd tasty re-fill).  And to top things off, and to ensure the smiles would continue on for nearly 2 ½ hour ride back home, I made my first-ever podium appearance after learning that I earned a 2^nd place spot in the 35 to 39 age group bracket.

Trust me, there is a "virtual" podium here

 
And now it’s on to day 2 of my smiles and miles off-season!

Race Results:

•     Duration:        49:34 (from my PT -- still awaiting the official results)
•     Work:              806 kJ
•     TSS:                 84 (intensity factor 1.014)
•     Norm Power:     274
•     VI:                    1.01
•     Pw:HR:            4.9%
•     Pa:HR:            -14.9%
•     Distance:        9.184 mi
•                               Min    Max   Avg
•     Power:             0          561     271     watts
•     Heart Rate:     127     198     192     bpm
•     Cadence:         43       156     82       rpm
•     Speed:            2.9      30.9    11.1    mph
•     Pace                1:56    20:33 5:25    min/mi
•     Hub Torque:     0          446     191       lb-in
•     Crank Torque:  0          680     288       lb-in

 

GMSR: Burlington Crit (Cat 4)

Mercy Killing

Short post today.  Partly because I’m typing this in the few minutes before we’re forced out of the hotel room, but mainly because there’s not much that you the reader would want to spend your time on. 

The final day of the Green Mountain Stage Race was all about premature endings.  Apparently yesterday’s App Gap started a steady flow of attrition as our field sign-in sheet showed at least a dozen riders who failed to finish yesterday’s stage 3.  The morning showers, with even heavier downpours imminently forecasted, took another chunk out of what had once been a 70+ man field on day 1.  And given the delays incurred in setting off the earlier race, those that did show up this morning were informed that our race would be (mercifully) cut down by 5 laps, to just 20 times around the technically challenging six turn crit through downtown Burlington.

Despite having spent the prior three days disabusing my legs, I felt pretty good lining up at the start, especially knowing that we now only had just under 13 miles until my 2011 racing season concluded.  I suppose even if my legs hadn’t responded I’d still have felt pretty darn good as I got to experience my first ever call-up to the front row.  After yesterday’s break-through finish on top of App Gap, I had vaulted up to 5^th place in the GC and earned a spot on the front row to kick things off.

Rolling to the front row 

 

The start

 
That ended up being the lone highlight for me.  I suppose I spent too much time basking in the front-row limelight as I ended up fumbling the clip in once the pace car sent us on our way.  Before we even made the first turn I had already fallen 20 riders back from the front.  That wasn’t uncharted territory for me, so I remained calm and confident through the next two turns, at which point the suffering commenced. 

Once the “neutral” half lap ended and the pace increased, a rider crashed right in front of me.  Had I held my spot in the front row I might never have even seen the one man crash.  But instead, I was right on the downed rider’s wheel as he went tumbling.  I avoid getting tangled up myself, but I had to nearly come to a stop and unclipped my left cleat just in case I had to put a foot down.

In an instant, the race got away from me.  14 riders opened a sizable gap before the other 30 riders and I were able to get back up to speed.   With the slick recently paved and painted roads, challenging corners, and less than fresh legs, our chances of regaining contact were bleak.  In just a span of a half lap, most riders forgot about competing for the win – all they wanted to do now was to safely hang in the race for at least another 9 ½ laps so that they’d get an official placing and a calculated time for the GC.  Or at least that was what went through my head – I’d hate to leave Vermont without an official finish and placing in the GC.

All by myself

 
I narrowed the gap to the leaders a few times, and two other riders (the overall GC leader and the overall sprint leader) actually were able to regain contact with the front.  But my glimpses of the riders ahead grew increasingly rare as the laps counted down.  There was just no way I could bridge back up on my own. 

Once I hit the 10 to go mark and I was assured of a GC placing, the thought of bailing on my futile attempt to make it back to the front started to materialize.  But the cheers of “go Daddy go” every time through the start/finish line and the thought of throwing in the towel in front of my girls refocused my attention on turning over the pedals. 

The Cheering Squad

 
Then, with four to go, with my lungs searing from my all-out solo-sufferfest, I started to believe I might just be able to stave off the officials from pulling me.  As the lactic acid attempted to take down my legs, I persevered by reminding myself in just a few laps, all suffering would be over for the 2011 racing season.  But while the mental games and motivation kept me valiantly pushing as long as I could, the power of the 16 guys in front was no match for me. 

With just one lap to go I was the 2^nd to the last rider pulled from the course, allowing the 14 riders ahead of the crash and the 2 riders who overcame the odds and bridged up, to finish with the rest of the field cleared.

One to go

 
 

The inglorious pull from the officials

 
 It turns out that all of the afternoon races were completely cancelled as the weather really took a turn for the worse.  Had my GMSR experience been prematurely cut short at just 3 stages, as it did for the afternoon fields, I would have retained my 5^th place in the GC.  But my race wasn’t cut that short, so I ended up falling back down to 10^th overall (and a disappointing 18^th in today’s stage). 

All things considered though…I’ll be smiling for days after wrapping up what might have been my last race as a Cat 4!

 
Race Results:

•     Place: Somewhere in the top 20, pulled with one lap to go.
•     Duration:      30:04 (Not official results – from my PowerTap)
•     Work:             478 kJ
•     TSS:                 54.4 (intensity factor 1.051)
•     Norm Power:          284
•     VI:                   1.07
•     Pw:HR:          10.1%
•     Pa:HR:            7.26%
•     Distance:      11.281 mi
•                              Min    Max   Avg
•     Power:          0          760     266     watts
•     Heart Rate:              96       195     184        bpm
•     Cadence:     40       218     91       rpm
•     Speed:           2.2      32.5    22.5    mph
•     Pace               1:51    26:49 2:40    min/mi
•     Hub Torque:            0          343     82          lb-in

GMSR: Mad River Road Race (Cat 4)

Last chance?

I had a rough time getting some ZZZs  last night.  Some of the blame goes to the Vermont wildlife making loud annoying noises for a long stretch last night, but most of the tossing and turning was due to my own doing.  After a long and memorable racing season I had pretty much run out of runway on my Cat 3 upgrade quest.  I only had today’s 61 mile Stage 3 road race and tomorrow’s 15 mile Stage 4. 

I’m not know for excelling at Crits, so I fretted over whether or not I’d somehow nab my 10^th and final top ten by overcoming the field stacked with Siggi riders, Spiderman (Siggi’s nickname for the GC leader entering today), and the highest passable road in Vermont, the App Gap.  I hate to admit it, but the only way I could stop the wheels spinning in my head was to come to grips with the possibility that I just wasn’t good enough yet, and I needed to start on Tuesday another long off-season prepping again for the upgrade.

Despite the restless night, I didn’t feel too bad when after riding the 4 miles (with spare wheel in hand) from the Bridges Resort to the start of the race.  I caught up with a few riders I’ve gotten to know a bit (Warren and Dan, who both already deservedly punched their Cat 3 upgrade tickets) and soaked up the views from the ski area as I made my requisite 8 trips to the porto-potties before the announcer sent us on our way.

 

While our race started with a five mile controlled start until we exited the town of Waitsfield, you’d have a hard time telling the difference between the controlled pace and our full-on race pace.  It seemed as though the entire field had resigned themselves to the same plan that I had worked up for myself – conserve all you can and hope that you have enough in the tank for the duel on the App Gap.  We were held in check by the Moto official at 15 mph for the first 5 miles, and then we held ourselves in check at just a few miles per hour faster once the Moto sent us on our way.

I thought that things might change once we faced the day’s first of two KoM climbs.  The hill up Rt 100 wasn’t any more challenging than yesterday’s KoM, so I figured that like yesterday, things would get a bit frantic and my legs would get their first test of the day.  But when I took a look back in the gap between my arm and my body I saw that the Sunday group ride pace still held sway in the pack.  Only 4 of us showed any pep, allowing me to scoop up another 5 points in the KoM competition (I think I finished in 3^rd place for the overall KoM competition). 

And then the thought occurred to me – maybe a lot of the pack had dead legs from the prior two days of racing, and maybe, just maybe I might have the legs to survive up the App Gap ahead of the pack?

Neutralized

Once I realized my guns could still fire, I holstered them for the next few miles and fought the temptation to fire again when the days lone sprint competition heated up at mile 22.  I didn’t contest the sprint, but I didn’t totally relax either as I didn’t want to fall too far behind the front and lose the ability to detect and respond to any break attempts.  But I either misjudged how far I fell behind, or I just lost focus for a bit.  In any case, I was taken aback when I found out that three or four riders had gotten away with at least one Siggi rider making the break.

The news was delivered to us by the Moto official just after we passed through the days only feed zone – the escape group already had 2 ½ minutes on us, due in great part to the efforts of the Siggi team to effectively clamp down the front of the pack and scramble any attempts to coordinate a chase.  Once the news of the time gap spread, the pace quickened with me and a UVM rider taking turns at the front.  But to our surprise we quickly were overtaken by another Siggi rider who loudly critiqued our bad manners by “attacking” during a feed zone. 

The look on the young UVM rider reminded me of my daughter during breakfast earlier in the day.  Mrs D informed our daughter that it was bad manners to chew with her mouth open.  Without further elaboration, the rule seemed sort of arbitrary and puzzled my six year old.  I offered her my support by shrugging my shoulders, letting her know that I wasn’t too fond of the rule myself. 

I don’t think the UVM rider knew he was attacking (because he wasn’t) and seemed a little confused.  I shook my head at him to let him know that I didn’t agree with the “rule” either.  Siggi had been blocking at the front for miles, a legitimate team tatic, but to also tell people that they couldn’t pick up the pace to slash the gap?  It didn’t make sense to me.  Maybe if we were out of the saddle smashing the pedals just as people were picking up their feeds, but there was none of that going on in my neck of the woods.

Over time the lead pack slowly dissolved, leaving just a single rider away off the front.  Given that he wasn’t a Siggi rider I thought that we’d be free to work again, perhaps even with their help.  But due to our lackadaisical extended miles, we were overtaken by the following Junior field and the entire pack, with the exception of the lone break rider, was forced to the side and neutralized for almost three minutes.  It was a relief to have a pee break, but it was a disappointment to know that all chances of catching Mr Solo were done for the day.  Kudos to that lonely rider, as he piled on an insurmountable 10 minute lead on the entire field by the end of the day!

Yee-Haw!

While I worked hard taking turns at the front before we were neutralized, I went into conservation mode once all chances of catching the lead had dissipated.  I put in a half-hearted turn at the front every so often just to avoid feeling like a complete free loader, but I spent a good deal of time recharging the battery as we headed down Rt 116 and neared Baby Gap, the appetizer before the main course on App Gap.

 
It was clear as we climbed up Baby Gap that I had still had the legs to put in a solid finish.  And while the climb wasn’t long or steep enough to completely shred the pack, it was clear to me with all of the huffing and puffing to my left and to my right that Vegas was increasing the odds in favor of a top ten finish for me.  As often happens when things look good for me and the adrenaline kicks up, tunes started rolling through my head – this time it was “Paradise City” by GnR. 

It was the perfect tune to narrow my focus on App Gap proper just after screaming down the back side of Baby Gap.  In the past such monster hills have always seen a bunch of riders swarm and pass me at the base, and then my more steady pace would reel back in quite a few riders before I finished off the climb.  But as the driving guitar solo repeated over and over in my head, I seemed to charge up the climb and through the first set of switch backs reckless abandon. 

Unfortunately after a few more switch backs my heaving chest and pounding heart overwhelmed even the screams of Axl Rose, so I resorted to counting things to keep me focused.  At first I was counting switch backs, and then I was counting down the tenths of miles, and then…then…I started counting riders.  I dared not take my foot off the pedal to count any riders to my rear, but ahead of me lay only three 700 #s making their way through the switch back above me, and with one solo rider out of site (and probably resting by then). 

One number I completely ignored was my Wattage on the PowerTap.  Had I realized how in the Red I was, I probably would have convinced myself that it was time to let up.  Instead, once the tower on top of the mountain came into view, and the roaring crowd filled my ears (yes, here at the Green Mountain Stage Race, even the Cat 4s draw an exuberant crowd), all thinking ceased.  All energy was diverted to turn over the pedals just a few more times up the steepest stretch of the hill, until…

 
Fifth place!  And with the gap I had on the riders to my rear, I moved all the way up from 21^st to 5^th in the GC!  I had my tenth top 10!  I was in such a stupor after crossing the finish line in disbelief about my finish that one of the volunteers came over to help me, offering to hold my bike or fetch me some water, thinking that I might need medical attention resulting from exhaustion.   But once the Mrs and my cheering squad ran over, the confused look on my face was completely replaced with sheer joy.

 
As I heeded back down the mountain to meet the girls at the car (without my spare wheel, which unfortunately got left behind in my haste to celebrate), I let out an audible “Yee-haw”, both in celebration of my finish, but also out of the sheer joy felt as one eats up the road down the backside of Vermont’s highest passable road. 

 

Race Results:

•     5^th place
•     Duration:          3:09:36 (3:12:01 was the official time once you factor in our nearly 3 minute neutralization)
•     Work:               2025 kJ
•     TSS:                 227.2 (intensity factor 0.851)
•     Norm Power:    230
•     VI:                     1.29
•     Pw:HR:             -16.43%
•     Pa:HR:             26.08%
•     Distance:         61.277 mi
•                              Min      Max     Avg
•     Power:              0          723      178      watts
•     Heart Rate:      0          203      160      bpm
•     Cadence:         37        206      83        rpm
•     Speed:              0          46.7     19.2     mph
•     Pace                 1:17     0:00     3:07     min/mi
•     Hub Torque:     0          357      78        lb-in

GMSR: The Bridges Circuit Race (Cat 4)

Devils and Angels

I did some research prior to today’s 64 mile, 2 loop circuit race.  It seems like no matter what course the promoter selects for stage 2, it inevitably ends in a huge bunch sprint, at least for the Cat 4s.  But…if somehow a break was going to get free, it had to have a Siggi GC contender present.  As part of my pre-race research I had scanned the pre-reg’ed names and it seemed like the Siggi team had almost 20% of the field riding under their banner.

Surrounded by Siggi riders

 

So while the good angel on my shoulder kept whispering to conserve energy and wait for the big race ending sprint, the devil on my other shoulder urged me on just 8 miles in when it seemed like a Siggi rider was making a break with another racer.  I had to burn a match or two to bridge up to them, putting me in the red zone for at least two or three minutes.  But by the time I got up there, along with two other riders who successfully escaped from the pack, any doubt in whether or not I made the right decision was quickly erased. 

I glanced quickly over my shoulder and couldn’t locate the field, and then my credentials were verified by the Siggi rider (or was it his original breakmate?).  Once he had validated that we weren’t currently top ten GC competitors, it was time for our gang to work together.  He informed us (or in my case, confirmed what I had already researched prior to the race) that he had 15 teammates in the pack who would do their best to let us get away.  Unless of course Spiderman tried to bridge up to us  (that’s the moniker they gave to the overall GC contender.  Not sure why – he looked more like a Thor if you ask me), in which case they had marching orders to mark him and hold his wheel.

So with a motivated crew of five working together and protected in our rear by the Siggi armada, the thought occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, we might just make this break stick.  My confidence was further buoyed at about the 16 mile mark when the Moto official pulled to our side and barked out to us our gap – 50 seconds.  With the day’s first KoM just over 5 km to go which was then followed by a superfast 4 mile descent over some less than stellar roads, our crew mutually agreed to stick together, rotating, and haul butt rather than individually attack and go for the KoM.

500 meters to the KoM.  Not really a challenging hill as you can see.

 

Well, that’s the end of my break story.  I held the wheel of the break’s point man as we climbed the hill.  I waited for my turn to pull through, but the guy never relented so I just contented myself to keep going at whatever pace he set.  But with just one kilometer to go, I noticed that we had shed our three fellow breakmates, including our insurance against the pack, the Siggi rider.  I took my pedal off the gas, letting the other rider easily take the day’s first KoM (and I easily took 2^nd place points), assuming that it was all in our best interests to regroup at the top. 

But the 1^st place guy just kept powering on.  Then to my horror, I saw that the pack had gobbled up the other three escapees.  I deliberated for a few seconds as to whether it was worth the effort to burn a few more matches and try to hitch back on to the super strong guy still off the front, or to instead roll the dice back in the pack.   There’s no way to tell how things would have played out had I opted to listen to the devil on my shoulder once again (I think that solo guy without the aid of others nearly held us off until very near the end – who knows how I would have fared working with him), but given how things turned out for me in the end, I definitely regret listening to the angel telling me to hold back.

Look out! Here comes the Spiderman.

Things pretty much stayed together for the next 25 miles, even as we galloped through the end of lap #1 for the day’s Sprinter’s points.  It gave my battery sufficient time to recharge, but my spirits declined as I was none too excited about the prospects of a bunch sprint with 60 riders.  I assumed that everyone else had also resigned themselves to the same conclusion, so I was quite pleasantly surprised with what unfolded as we approached the KoM once again. 

At first there were two or three riders  blasting off the front hoping to scoop up some KoM points.  But then the man in Yellow (Spiderman, or is it Thor?) decided to make things interesting and show off his super hero power.  The Siggi team wasn’t going to let him go without a fight, so while the actual KoM hill in itself wasn’t overly challenging (I think it maxed out at less than 14%), the ferocious pace that ensued began to significantly whittle down the once bloated pack.

Even though my legs and lungs were afire after cresting the hill, my outlook on the race finish was once again perking up.  A quick scan behind me confirmed that nearly half the pack failed to respond to our pursuit of Spiderman and all that we had ahead of us was the mostly downhill or flat 10 miles to the finish.  Furthermore, there were still a bunch of Siggi riders who likely would sacrifice themselves for the sake of their GC man, so I thought the actual number of racers who’d be competing in the final sprint was quite manageable.  Maybe I’d get my 10^th top ten needed for my Cat 3 upgrade quest?

The finishing 10 miles looked much like this.

 

And down the stretch they come….

I don’t have any details to share, but apparently there was a nasty crash at the finish in the field in front of us, because with just over 6 miles to go, our field was neutralized and told to just roll along at a leisurely pace.  While I held my spot near the front during the five minutes of slow rolling (as the Siggi gang were vigilant in their enforcement of the no passing rule), the ranks swelled behind us.   Those who had been left behind during the fun up the KoM were nearly all able to rejoin us.  58 miles into the race with lots of matches spent and tactics employed, all for naught.  Pretty much everyone who lined up with us at the start was going to crash the party at the finish line.

My legs felt great as I turned over the pedals after we passed the 1 KM to go sign, and I thought I was well positioned in about 8^th spot behind mostly Siggi riders.  But in the end I felt like an introvert at a party.  It seemed like at least 20 riders found a way to party hardy on the left hand side of the road once the yellow line rule was waved, while I was forced out of the fun by two gassed riders who exploded right in front of me after working for their GC contender. 

So… after all that effort and excitement, I find myself right where I started the day.  I’m not sure where I finished in the bunch sprint, but I’m sure I’ll get the same time as the rest of the pack, keeping me a minute and fifty down from 1^st, and about 20 seconds off of 10^th.

The good news is that this nasty climb up the App Gap looms ahead of us tomorrow for our finish on Stage 3.  No bunch sprints to worry about on this road!

 

Race Results: 

·          Duration:         2:47:44

·          Work:              1999 kJ

·          TSS:                224.4 (intensity factor 0.896)

·          Norm Power:   242

·          VI:         1.22

·          Pw:HR:            0.42%

·          Pa:HR:            -13.33%

·          Distance:        64.563 mi

§   Min        Max           Avg

·          Power:             0         720     199            watts

·          Heart Rate:     99       204     171            bpm

·          Cadence:        34       239     86              rpm

·          Speed:             8.5      48.2    23.0           mph

·          Pace                1:15    7:06    2:36           min/mi

·          Hub Torque:    0         304     67              lb-in 



Race: Green Mountain Stage Race Stage 1 (Cat 4)

Slugs

Last Sunday I had a choice to make before doing my 2 1/2 hour work-out, which included a 60 minute aerobic interval.  Do I give Mrs D a heart ache worrying about a tree falling on me while out on the roads as Irene wound down, or do the work-out on the trainer at home without electricity, without the aid of a fan or any entertainment to distract me from the suffering.  I don't think I had much to worry about out on the roads (by the time my work out ended, the sun was even out), but out of deferrence to the Mrs and all of her support she gives me, I setup the trainer in the garage. 

The open door offered up a little fresh air, but I ended up sweating buckets without the steady flow normally blasting at me from a floor fan.  Not only did that make the "ride" uncomfortable, it also left me pretty sticky and stinky as we had no water to shower off.  However, those invonveniences paled in comparison to the suffering brought on by the absence of visual or audio distractions.  Things got so bad that I found myself gazing at a slug traversing across my driveway.  Unfortunately for me that slug was too fast, as it completed its trek in just about 45 minutes, leaving me with nearly two hours of nothingness.

 

The Race

So what does a slug have to do with today's first stage of the Green Mountain Stage Race?  In my opinion, Time Trials are the racing equivalent to watching a slug traverse my driveway.  Instead of the slimey invertabrate holding my gaze though, a Time Trial has me staring at my PowerTap.  I'm up in the beautiful Green Mountains, which were recently ravaged by Hurricane Irene.  Yet I can't recall any image to share with you from the 16 minutes and 38 seconds it took me to complete the 5.7 mile Time Trial.

The Coach had told me to hit the first 2.3 miles today at about 10 Watts less than my prior 7.5 Minute Power Record, and sure enough the seconds agonizingly ticked away as I did my best to keep the Watts pegged at 316.  I briefly looked up twice as I overtook two riders that had started earlier than me, looking long enough at them just to confirm that I was passing fellow Cat 4s.

There was no way I could have held that level of Power through the end, and sure enough the Watts slowly started to dip once I crested the steady climb.  Yet while my power declined, my speed quickly ramped up, forcing me to spend a little less time watching the PowerTap.   And by the time I hit the dip in the road and the big but short uphill to the finish, the thought of my PowerTap or Watts were flushed away as my eyes darted from left to right, searching for the finish line, hoping to find it before lactic acid won its battle with my legs.

Note the steady decline in Power after about half way through, but disregard the decline in HR as it was caused by my heaving chest forcing the strap down to my stomach.

 

Epilogue

I ended up setting Power Records during today's ride, so I can't feel too badly about how things turned out.  Yet I'd be lying to you if I said I was thrilled to start day 2 in 22nd place, down a 1:50 to the stallion way ahead of the rest of the pack (but on the bright side, only down less than 20 seconds from 8th place). 

I was even less thrilled to learn immediately after today's race that due to the road closures brought on by the Hurricane, I had to haul my butt back 14 miles to return home.  I must have missed that communication, because I surely would have prepared differently.  I left the hotel thinking I was heading out to do a 16 minute race, plus a little warm-up and a little cool down.  No need for water, no pump/tire lever/phone, etc, right? 

By the time I collapsed on the couch (after downloading the PowerTap of course), I had logged over 30 miles and 2 hours and 24 minutes of ride time.  I was so parched and hungry as I plodded through the final few miles to get back that I started to cramp and even felt like I was going to bonk -- all for a 5.7 mile Time Trial!

But...please feel free to slap me in the face if I actually complain about any of this.  After I completed the Time Trial and my PT no longer held my gaze, I caught glimpses of the destruction wreaked by the raging rivers overflowing from Irene's deluge.  I'm sure a lot of people around here would love to trade shoes with me.  Even if it meant watching slugs and doing Time Trials. 

Race Results:

• Duration:             16:38
• Work:                    303 kJ
• TSS:        34.5 (intensity factor 1.129)
• Norm Power:     305
• VI:          1.01
• Pw:HR:                 -11.46%
• Pa:HR:                   -105.92%
• Distance:             5.707 mi
• Min        Max       Avg
• Power:                 0              507         302         watts
• Heart Rate:         110         190         158         bpm
• Cadence:             57           139         89           rpm
• Speed:                  2.2          41.8        20.4        mph
• Pace                      1:26        26:49     2:57        min/mi
• Hub Torque:       0              388         114         lb-in