Long time no...

I was gently reminded the other day it's been a while since my last update.  It appears my last entry was on May 22nd, which seems like yesterday.  A lot has happened since then, both on and off the bike which has kept me very occupied.  My position at work was eliminated at the end of May leaving me unemployed.  I was leading a pioneering campaign to build a segment of the company's wholesale business, and, while we were gaining traction in this difficult economic climate, it turned out to be more investment than the President was willing to make given how is other businesses were needing cash.   I'm very grateful I had the job and the friendships I forged as a result.  I think a lot of people would have been very upset at losing their job, and rightly so, but I'm not.  Businesses are complex and fragile entities and it's tough work to keep one moving in the right direction.  So, if they needed to eliminate my position in order to keep the larger machine running in the right direction, then I completely understand.  We parted on good terms and now I have a great opportunity to start something new and exciting.  More on this later.

As far as racing goes, we're in the middle of Crit (criterium) season right now.  My crit season started mostly during our local Wed night races held in Burns Park towards the end of May.  They weren't going so well for me from the beginning.  I was feeling unusually tired about halfway through each one and completely spent by the end.  I'd had a productive cough since before the Joe Martin Stage Race and the cough was getting worse, not better, 6 weeks later.  After some encouragement from Shelley, I decided to go see Dr. McGowan.  Dr Bob ordered a thorough exam which included chest films and lung function tests and it was concluded I have asthma, and at the time operating on roughly 80% lung function.  Well, that could explain why I'd been feeling so poorly in some of my races, especially the crits where there is only a block or two between hard efforts which leaves very little time to recover.  The good news is this has happened to me before when I lived in Colorado and the culprit was allergies, which appears to be the same problem now and relatively easy to fix.  I normally don't have allergy issues here in Arkansas but this year is different.  Maybe the long, warm and winter and spring has caused some pollen types to be worse than normal, and coming out earlier than usual too.  So, after a little rest and some good meds, I was losing my cough and starting to feel good again on my rides.

The time had come for the Tulsa Tough races, which our team has high on it's priority list and one I had committed to racing way back in September.  I promised my doc I wouldn't race for two weeks after the asthma diagnosis but I've known him for over 30 years and watched him disobey his own docs orders and run injured and sick.  I figured he wouldn't really respect me if I didn't race in Tulsa.  So off to the races I go... docs orders be damned.

Hunter and I set off for Tulsa and had a great weekend racing with our teammates.  We have such a good group of men (and their families) on our team and I thoroughly enjoy everyone's company.  They're all incredibly strong and humble to boot.  The races in Tulsa had large fields and very deep competition.  Our Masters "A" field was made up mostly of Cat 1 and 2s from around the country which always makes for a fun race.  Not only is the competition good, but you never really know all of the guys and who to watch.  Not knowing who to watch means almost everyone gets chased down until the field is so tired they can't chase anymore.  With my new found lung capacity, I felt fairly good on Saturday and managed 28th place after not contesting the sprint.  Frankly, I was a little worried about Sunday's race which has a difficult hill known as Cry Baby Hill located just past the finish line.  Good lungs or bad, this course challenges one and all.  With so many talented Cat 1s in our field, including ex World and multi-National Champ (as well as ex pro) Jame Carney and other ex pros, it was definitely going to be a tough race.  I had decided on a race plan and was happy to have my legs, and lungs, working well, finally.  As the race progressed, our field of 70+ quickly became about 25.  I managed to stay in the front group until a break went up the road including Hunter.  Hunter ultimately won the race out of the break and was admittedly overwhelmed with his result.  The men he beat were truly awesome competitors and it was on a super tough course in very hot, humid conditions... oh, and not to mention the wind was blowing at a consistent 20 mph throughout our race.  I was  happy to have managed to stay in the dwindling main group and ultimately ended up 23rd.  Fun weekend and great results for the OKC Velo Pirates all around.

One more thought regarding the Tulsa Tough races... these are very well run and promoted events and the weekend is super fun  from both the racer's and spectator's point of view.  Every race is a party, and especially so with regards to the final day and Cry Baby Hill.  Cry Baby Hill is essentially a huge block party and reminded me of something we see on TV during the big mountain stages of the Tour de France.  People are out in the street having a great time and being generally drunk and obnoxious.  I've often wondered how the Pros handle this distraction while racing at their limit, and while our little race was nothing in comparison to the Tour, it did give me a little perspective on what they deal with, and it was FUN!  Cry Baby Hill is a very steep and tough little climb and we did it over 20 times at race speeds.  Having those people there really helped keep the juices flowing and while I was focused on what I was doing and couldn't see most of what was going on at the party, I could certainly feel it.  If only more races were like this more people would get involved in this awesome sport.

Me - #450.  Cool shot from above at the beginning of Cry Baby Hill.  Photo Courtesy of Cindy Porter.  Thanks Cindy!

Second half of Cry Baby Hill with Jay Hawkins (teammate and awesome Viola player, so I'm told :)

Cool video from racer's perspective of Cry Baby Hill

Another well edited video of Cry Baby Hill

After Tulsa, I had the Arkansas State Time Trial Championships to look forward to.  It's a 40k (~25 mile) flat, out and back race that would prove to be a major suffer fest.  I knew I was riding better and better by the day with my allergies/asthma coming under control, but I was nervous about riding so long on my new TT bike.  The position I ride in is so aggressive I really needed a few more weeks to adapt to it, but because I've been racing so much, there's been little time to do specific training on this bike. Sunday morning, Father's day, and riders start leaving the start line at 7 a.m. at 30 second intervals.  My start time was around 7:15 which meant I had to wake up much earlier than I would really care to.  I ate a light breakfast of oatmeal and coffee at some awful early time and Shelley and I hopped in the car and drove outside of Little Rock to Galloway, AR for the race start.  Got in a decent warm up and lined up for what would be roughly an hour of pain.  I'm sent off the start line with a few friends yelling encouragement and in only a few seconds, I'm buried in a silent world of focus.  Like most races, I feel good at the start and usually stay this way for quite a while until some of the harder efforts begin building up in the legs.  But in a time trial, this good feeling doesn't last long and in only 4 or 5 miles I'm already hurting.  It's amazing how quickly the pain begins but even more so how long I can endure it when my head is in the right place.  I ride towards the turnaround passing people along the way.  My speed is very slowly dropping as I move closer to the 12.5 mile 180 degree turn.  I can see it up the road but like the oasis in the desert, it doesn't seem to get any closer.  Finally, I make the turn around and I'm on course for a sub 58 or 59 minute 40k time.  I take my time drinking water and getting some nutrition before getting back on the pedals and back up to speed... as soon as I'm riding at my limit again, I notice my speed is higher than before the turn around.  I wasn't sure how long this was going to last, but I'm happy to take it for as long as it does.  I manage to keep my speed up fairly well in spite of the pain.  I finish the last 5 miles strong and end up with a time of 58:55.  There was only one other guy in my category so I ended up as State Masters Time Trial Champion (45-49).  Ha!  Next year should be a little more difficult to get a Gold medal result.  The 50+ age category maybe the most competitive of all here in Arkansas so I'll need to buckle down and work on this discipline over the next 12 months.

The day after the TT, I'm reading an email from my coach and he's telling me that after the turn around, I lost a minute.  I guess I spent too much time drinking and eating before I got back up to speed.  It's possible I could have broken 58 minutes if I'd been a little smarter.  Oh well, it was a good day and again, I got to share it with good friends.

Well, the heat is here much like last summer when we set a lot of new records for high temperatures and the most consecutive days above 100 F.  It's getting tougher every year to acclimate to the 100+ temps and high humidity, but to be honest, I really do prefer these hot days to the cold ones of winter.  Our state Criterium Championships are this Sunday and the temps are again forecasted to be in the low 100s.  Right now I'm planning to do our Master's race and then the Cat 1,2 race.  Not sure if this is smart given the conditions, but for now, this is the plan.  If you're local, come out for the race, it's held in North Little Rock along the River just down the street from Argenta.  We had big crowds last year and everyone seem to have a good time.  Here is the link to the flyer (below) with directions to the course.  Parking is good and easy but make sure you bring some chairs and a tent to keep out of the sun.  

http://cstashuk.aristotle.net/carve/flyers/Dr_Feelgood_Star-Spangled_Classic_AR-Crit_2012.pdf

Closing the Deal

This past weekend was the Racing Rapides Stage Race in Alexandria, Louisiana.  This would be my first time in Alexandria with the exception of two times I've briefly driven through it to get to and from Lafayette.  This was also my first weekend back racing since the Joe Martin Stage Race in Fayetteville.  And now that I type this, it's occurred to me this is my first blog in a while and I never posted one regarding Joe Martin... so a little about Joe Martin before I get started on Racing Rapides.

The Joe Martin Stage Race, or JMSR, as it's affectionately know, was a tough race.  I went in very fit and felt great the first day against a stacked Masters A field.  The hill climb time trial went ok and the road race not too bad after making the final cut among the strong men on a very challenging course and finishing 14th in our group of 16 in the final sprint with some bad cramping.  The criterium was a disaster for me though and one I would like to forget ever happened.  Normally I recover well for the second day of racing but not this day.  The JMSR criterium course is one of the toughest in the country and it will weed out the weak, and I was definitely weak this day.  I managed to hang in the top echelon of riders until 5 laps to go when my legs finally had had enough on the tough finishing hill.  I popped like a plastic cork on a cheap bottle of champaigne and it was not pretty.  Everyone was on hand to witness it and so it was time to swallow some pride and ride as hard as I could to keep from getting lapped, which could easily happen if I wasn't careful. I managed to find a good rhythm and kept my speed up after a recovery lap and never came too close to getting lapped, but my pride was showing some road rash and I needed to deal with it quickly so it didn't ruin what really was an awesome weekend of racing and spending time with a good friend.  So I worked some psychotherapy magic on myself and found my happy place for the rest of the day and enjoyed my time sitting in the sun.

The OKC Velo Pirates after the final JSMR stage

L to R:  Jay Hawkins, Frank Jakofcich, Hunter East, Me, Johnny LaSorsa, Bruce Tanner

After the JMSR I took a couple of weekends off racing and also managed an entire weekend without riding before the Racing Rapides Stage Race.  The weekend without riding, as I shall call it, was the most relaxing two days I've had in years, and it was good.  Actually, it was AWESOME, and no doubt helped me gain a little more enthusiasm for upcoming races.  

So with a fresh attitude and somewhat fresh legs, the usual suspects loaded up on the Rockstar bus (Hunter, Evan, me and Kris) and headed down to Alexandria on Friday.  After having dinner at the House of Butter and Salt, I mean, the Outback Steak House, we drove 45 minutes outside of town into a national forest to setup and get some rest before an early race start Saturday morning.  Hunter had decided to race the 1,2,3 race as his son Evan had just upgraded to Cat 3 after an awesome 2nd place overall at JMSR in the Cat 4 field.  Hunter not only wanted to look out after Evan in his debut cat 3 event but it was also a good chance for them to race together before Evan starts what is assuredly an early professional career in another year or two :)  I was left to fly the Jolly Roger for the OKC Velo Pirates in the Masters field by myself.  

My awesome parking job in Alexandria at packet pick-up.

Our 65 mile rolling hill race started at 8:30 Saturday morning and promised to be a very warm and humid day, just like I like it.  The course was much hillier than I thought it would be.  I'm always surprised when I come across hills in Louisiana, but they do have some and this area was no different.  In fact, while none of them were very severe, there were a few that were long and steep enough that some of the guys were going to suffer, so I took it upon myself to set a difficult'ish tempo on each one so as not to burn any of my matches, but make sure some of the weaker guys were softening up a little.  Donald Davis, reigning LAMBRA (Louisiana Mississippi Bicycle Racing Association) masters champion was racing with us and as always, very fit and strong.  Donald won the Rouge Roubaix race the past two years along with almost every stage race I've entered in the past 12 months.  He is very fast and can time trial with the best of them.  But Donald was riding without any teammates like I was and we both had to be vigilant in order to keep any threatening groups from riding away from us.  One small group managed to get a 45 second gap on us about 25 miles into the race and Donald and I were the only ones willing and able to make a chase.  So we started working to bring these guys back and it was about 5 miles of hard pulling, just him and I before he attacked me when I was in the middle of a long pull.  I had no more speed in my legs, hell, I was riding as hard as I could, and he knew this was a good time to get rid of me and bridge up to the break alone.  It was a smart move on his part and it definitely put me under some pressure.  No one in the group would help me so I kept chasing, heart rate pegged and hoping my legs could withstand the pressure for a few more miles, which was what it was going to take to bring these guys back.  But I got lucky and guys started trying to jump across to the break, when this happened, I was able to start grabbing wheels and getting short rests before going back to the front and pulling again.  We finally caught the front group and now I could begin licking my wounds and recovering.  After some time sitting on wheels, another strong attack went up the road with Donald and I was easily able to bridge up to them and the best part of it was knowing that I was recovering from hard efforts really well.

The race was moving on and the temps were rising.  We were about 15 miles away from the finish and again, never having seen this course before, had decided to ride every hard hill at the front to control to tempo and put some guys under pressure.  At 10 miles to go, a hill rose up in front of us and as usual, I went to the head of the group, after a few minutes of hard riding we came around a corner and the road continued up as far as we could see.  Donald noticed everyone was hurting and he came around me with a hard attack.  This was it, do or die.  I went with Donald and we quickly starting sharing the pace.  I looked back and all I could see were the three guys we had drug along with us.  Everyone else had dissappeared and now the work began.  Donald and I continued to trade pulls but the other men refused to work.  About five miles to go and we convinced Glenn Richard of Acadiana Bicycle Company Racing to help us.  His pulls were short, which didn't give Donald and I much time to recover, but they were better than nothing and we weren't going to refuse any help.  We continued to work hard in hopes of putting as much time on the guys behind us as we could.  I was also hoping to drop some of our breakaway companions knowing they were all in various stages of dehydration and cramps but they all managed to stay on much to my displeasure.  The finish was looming and now we were all starting to think about the final 600 meter long hill to the line.

As we rode closer to the finish, the cat and mouse games started and I found myself at the front when I really didn't want to be.  Hell, I had been working my butt off for the last 10 miles and I had no intention of letting these guys jump me at the finish line.  We're almost to the bottom of the hill and no one was pulling through, and to make it worse, our speed was dropping considerably.  This wasn't good for me.  I knew if we were going slow enough, Donald would be able to jump hard and put a gap on me that would be difficult to make-up on the finishing hill. So I decided to take control of the finish and went as hard as I could once we hit the bottom of the hill.  I sprinted from the front of our group and managed to surprised them I think.  I established a small gap and went as hard as I could knowing this was my only chance to get the Win.  I was able to hold them off until the false flat for the final two hundred meters when I looked back and saw them  gaining on me. I had been sprinting the hill for over 400 meters and there wasn't much left in the tank.  The legs were screaming and starting to shut down, but no one had pulled up next to me yet and as I inched closer to the line I was starting to realize I had a chance to win this thing.  I managed one last acceleration to the line with about 50 meters to go and rolled over in first place.  Holly cow!!! I couldn't believe I won, AND I beat Donald Davis in the process!  I was in so much pain crossing the line I couldn't manage a victory salute, but rather dropped my head and coasted down the backside of the hill.  I turned around once I stopped seeing stars only to see Hunter and Evan chasing after me.  I think they were happier for me than I was at the time.  It was a great day but it wasn't over yet so no time for victory celebrations.

The TT was to be a short and painful 3 miler that was mostly uphill.  I'm not a good time trial rider. But I'm not bad either, so the strategy was simple, go to my max and stay there from the gun.  It hurt and my time was OK, which put me in 3rd place on the stage and 2nd place behind Donald Davis on GC.  Hunter, Evan and Kris all rode strong time trials and afterwards, we pack up the bus and headed back to downtown Alexandria to find an urban camping spot for the evening.  After a short oil pressure warning light scare, we successfully made our way to the spot where Kris and Evan had located for us on a recon run earlier that evening in the tow car.  We were parked right on the crit course in a vacant parking lot with a live oak and a small patch of grass for our front yard.  It was just like home!  

Sunday morning I woke up early feeling good after a good night's sleep.  It was nice being able to take my time with some morning coffee and breakfast as well as race prep.  The early starts make for hectic mornings so the added time helped me keep my calm before the inevitable storm that was about to happen for the GC battle.

My race was the first to go off at 10:20, Hunter et al wouldn't start until 12:20 that afternoon which meant they were all still in relaxation mode as I was getting my gear sorted for my warm-up routine.  I managed to get a long warm up knowing it would be critical for a solid race performance after all the work I did the day before.  The legs were feeling good during the warm up but this was only my second criterium of the season so I was a little nervous about making sure I was going to be smooth and fast in the 8 corner .8 mile course.

Our race was planned for 50 minutes complete with a hot spot time bonus sprint thrown in somewhere in the middle of the race to keep things exciting.  Glenn Richard was sitting in third place overall, just 3 seconds behind me, and Donald was 10 seconds ahead of me leading into Sunday's race.  Donald would be riding to protect his lead and Glenn was gunning for me.  It was going to be a fun race.  The race started without too much incident and the pace was moderately fast most of the day.  I was never under pressure and after only a few laps of the course at speed, I was getting the feel for this type of racing again.  The Hot Spot sprint was announced and I positioned myself to gain a few seconds over my rivals, the only problem was, there wasn't a long steep hill to sprint up and these guys were a little faster than me in a straight, flat finish.  Glenn and Donald both pipped me at the line and I was dangerously close to losing my second place, never mind getting closer to Donald.  But I was still in 2nd place overall with half the race left to go.  The only thing to do now was make sure Glenn didn't take anymore time away from me with the time bonuses available at the finish.  I also wanted to take time out of Donald but to be honest, wasn't feeling too confident as he had been marking Glenn and I all race and he is plenty strong enough to bridge up to us in the event we managed to get away.  So, rightly or wrongly, I had decided to try and defend my 2nd place overall.

The race came down to the final lap.  We had one rider off the front, Todd Lafleur, who had been in the break with us in the road race the day before.  I thought we had caught Todd two laps from the finish as I was riding his wheel in the last lap.  It turns out we had lapped a rider I thought was Todd and so, as it turns out, I wasn't riding Todd's wheel, I was riding Todd's teammate's wheel.  Ugh, I hate it when I make that kind of mistake.  Todd was off the front by about 15 seconds as we were starting our final lap, but because there were so many turns on this tight course, he was out of sight and I wasn't aware he was still away.  So I thought we would be sprinting for the win and was planning to attack before the final corner and get a good gap for the final 300 meter headwind sprint to the finish line.  However, Glenn had other ideas and his teammate Kevin Landry (the dude with the biggest quads in Louisiana) went to the front and rode such a hard tempo there was no way I was going to be able to jump him and maintain a lead for the last 300+ meters.  I Sprinted in with the main group for a disappointing 6th place.  Glenn won the field sprint which gave him a 6 second time bonus and moved him to 2nd place overall and me down to third or possibly 4th, depending on Todd's time gap ahead of us.  It turns out I salvaged the 3rd podium spot for the GC which made the long drive home that evening slightly more tolerable.

Start Line of the Crit

Hot Spot Sprint - 4th place, no time bonus for me

Good picture of my butt sitting on Bennie's wheel

Top three GC Left to Right:  Donald Davis, Glenn Richard, Me

A special thanks to Bennie Flores' wife for taking these photos.

Hunter ended up winning the 1,2,3 race out of a break of about 6 riders with an impressive sprint that actually gave him a time gap from his breakaway companions.  Hunter's win moved him into 3rd overall but unfortunately, with Kris missing the break, he moved down to 6th overall.  Evan clipped a pedal coming out of a corner and fell heavily which resulted in another rider riding/crashing over him.  I noticed Evan not coming around with the group but the other rider who ran into Evan had come in for his free lap.  I ran up to the guy (John Dias) and asked him if Evan was ok, he thought he was and said that Evan was with a Police officer who was controlling traffic but John couldn't really tell me where Evan was.  After what seemed like an eternity, Evan finally came walking up with his jersey off and bibs ripped up, showing road rash all over his body.  I felt so bad for him but the adrenaline was obviously still pumping because he was smiling and didn't appear to have any serious injuries.  Of course, anyone who has had a hard bicycle crash knows the worst part is usually the shower after, not the crash itself.  So we got Evan to the bus and I proceeded with the clean-up routine and it wasn't pretty.  I think Evan wanted to punch me for the pain I was causing him, but it was necessary to prevent infections and he manned up and took it.  After a tortuous shower and lots of primal noises coming from the shower stall, I bandaged him up and helped Hunter and Kris get the bus packed up.  Evan endured a time honored right of passage for cyclists this Sunday.  It was his first serious crash and road rash clean up process.  And while it was probably one of the most painful experiences of his short life, he earned his Man Card this day.  A good day indeed.

We Came, We Saw, Hunter Dominated

Just now getting to a point where I can write about last weekend's Mississippi Grand prix.  I've been traveling all week in the Northeastern US where it's been unusually warm and dry, just like here in the south.  They're just now starting to see green and the dogwoods are in bloom, so it was a bonus for me to get to see them twice in one spring.

The trip started out a little rough, with a storage bay door coming open as we were leaving town and dumping some of our race wheels out onto Cantrell Rd.  We didn't discover what had happened until we were about two miles away and after an exhaustive search we never found them.  One set of wheels belonged to Wes, a pair of Zipp 404s estimated at over $3k with tires, cassette and padded case.  The other was a $1k wheel belonging to Hunter and Evan.  Kris French decided to post on FB that we had lost the wheels in hopes someone had found them and would turn them into a local bike shop.  10 minutes after the FB post, we received a call from Community Cyclist that a guy found them and noticed they looked expensive so drove into the closest bike shop and turned them in.  We managed to pick them up with enough time to get underway and have time for Kris and Wes to start their race that evening.  A huge thank you goes out to the Community Cyclist crew and the guy that was nice enough to turn them in... we owe you all a beer.

No sooner had we begun rolling than we realized there wasn't any water in the storage tank and we hadn't picked up the clean sheets for the beds.  So Hunter's wife Dustin met us out on Dixon Rd with the clean sheets as we filled up with water at the local gas station.  So now it's time to leave, again, and we get the bus pinned in by some other cars and it takes us another 20 minutes to back the bus out of the tight parking lot.  Ugh... we discover that it's actually Friday the 13th and everything begins to make sense.

We make it to Fridays race with just enough time to get Kris and Wes signed up and roll up to the line just a few minutes before the gun goes off.   That was a stressful way to begin the weekend so we're really hoping for better things on Saturday and Sunday.

Hunter and I raced the masters race (3 stages) as the only two OKC Velo guys.  The 55 mile rolling road race started off well as I made an early attack just to get things going and warm up a little.  I was quickly reeled back in and then went with another attack and we managed to establish a small gap and hold it for a few miles before being caught on the one steep'ish hill on the course.  About 3/4 away around the course, which we were doing two laps of, Hunter rolls up the road with two guys.  It wasn't an attack per se, but the three of them had a 10 second gap before anyone realized what had happened and once Hunter saw this, he put the power down and they quickly established a nice lead on the field.  The three teams now represented in this break all went to the front to insure any chase efforts would be controlled and discouraged.  Hunters group managed to stay away after some aggressive chasing and Hunter ended up winning the stage by 3 minutes after he attacked his breakaway companions in the closing few miles of the race. The field was whittled down from 35 to 8 of us after all the hard chasing and I ended up 5th in the sprint and 8th overall on the stage.   Hunter is now in the GC lead with a margin that gives him some cushion leading into the afternoon's Time Trial.

We all prepped for our 3 mile TT that wouldn't start until about 6:30 for most of us on the bus.  Hunter rode strongly and ended up 3rd on the stage and I ended up 16th after riding my road bike, Eddy Merckx style.  I dropped two places in the GC after losing some time to all the guys on their TT bikes. I really wasn't too worried about my placing at this point, I knew there was no way I was going to get a top TT placing on my road bike, but I did manage to limit my GC losses and most of the guys ahead of me only beat me by a few seconds, which gave me some confidence heading into the final stage on Sunday.

Sunday's circuit race was a short one of about 30 miles with a strong wind blowing.  The finish was on top of the only significant hill which was good for me since I am starting to feel strong again.  Hunter and I had some work to do knowing we he was going to be attacked all race long by the two teams representing 2nd and 3rd overall.  There wasn't a lot of strategy involved, we didn't have to attack, but we did have to cover every little move that went off the front.  The race went 4 laps on this course and after two, there was a hot spot sprint at the finish line for small time bonuses.  Hunter went hard leading out the bonus sprint and I followed along with Donald Davis and Ed Novak.  After we crossed the line, we had a decent gap on the field and decided to keep the effort going.  Our gap was slowly growing but since the team of the second place rider wasn't represented in the break, they chased hard to pull us back, which they did a couple of miles later.  It's now groupo compacto for the remainder of the race.  Everyone realized they weren't getting up the road without Hunter and I so the attacks eased up a little as everyone was beginning to consider the finish.

Hunter took the final sprint without any real trouble and I managed 4th on the day.  Hunter won the overall by a large margin and I was back up to 9th on GC.  It was a good weekend and was fun having only two of us do so much damage to the bigger teams in our race.  Kris and Wes both rode well and finished in the top 20 of the P,1,2 event and Evan also had a great race finishing 4th overall after an incredible Time Trial which saw him only a couple of seconds slower than his dad on Saturday.  Look for Evan to dominate the Joe Martin Cat 4 race, he is gaining strength and confidence... a deadly combination for anyone in the East clan.

The Truth Hurts

Thursday night kicked off the Two Rivers Time Trial series, put on by the venerable Beland family.  I think this is the third year they've organized this series but only the first time I've raced in it. Peter Beland, whether he intended to or not, guilted me into racing last night.  I never raced last year or the year before and as soon as I saw him at a local group ride Tuesday night, I knew what I was in store for... "are you racing the time trial Thursday night?"... "uh, well, maybe, you see, uh, it all depends on my coach, you know, he's very particular about my workouts, and well, uh, he might not want me doing this, but I'll check and let you know."  Of course Shaun, my coach, was perfectly happy to have me go out and pummel my legs in a time trial.  Any chance he gets to dose out a little more pain, well, let's just say he is convinced it'll make me stronger.  Sometimes I beg to differ.  But I digress.

Time trials are commonly referred to as the Race of Truth, primarily because there's no drafting and feeding off others in a pack.  It's just you and your bike, riding as fast as you can.  Almost always the strongest person wins.  I've never been a big fan of time trials, namely because, a) I'm not good at them, and b) I'm not good at them. I don't have a time trial bike and so there is no way I can win, not that a TT bike would change that outcome, but still, I don't have a TT bike. I reluctantly committed to racing and doing it on my normal road bike without an aero helmet, skinsuit or fancy wheels. You know, Eddy Merckx style. Just me and my trusty Jolly Roger against the wind, all alone.

I was very careful about my warm-up given the crushing workouts I had the two nights before.  I took my time and slowly built up my HR and speed so I wouldn't start building up metabolic waste and creating a situation where when it was time to start, I was already hurting.  The time was quickly approaching for me to set off and I can see my heart rate climbing with pre-race anxiety.  I know this is going to hurt, and just knowing that sends my HR through the ceiling.  I should be used to that feeling by now, but its just one of those things that happens to me.  I don't think it really affects my race performance, but it's a little weird looking down and my heart is beating fast enough to propel me at 20 mph if I was actually pedaling.

I roll up to the line where Fred Beland expertly grabs my seatpost and holds me steady while I clip in and get ready to start.  The count starts... 10 seconds, 5,4,3,2, Go.  No fan fare, just me getting up to speed.  We had a moderate tail/crosswind heading out on this flat 6.4 mile course so I knew I needed to conserve a little in order to stay on top of my gear on the way back.  I managed my HR around 174 bpm with a few jumps up to 177 when I needed to get my speed back up.  I came to the end of the course where there is a small loop to navigate in order to make the return trip.  The right hand turn came up so quickly, I missed it and went backwards only to see my 30 second man coming straight at me.  He was a little confused, which would normally amuse me, but since the lactic acid was starting to build up, I was not in a humorous mood.  So I continued back into the wind and was fairly happy with how the legs were feeling considering the week I've had.

Shaun has been laying on the intensity lately and not letting up.  I've trained really hard this week and so was a little worried the legs would shut down on me completely with this kind of extended effort.  Fortunately they didn't, although they weren't feeling great, they were still working.  As I made my way back to the finish line, I started to build up a little speed knowing I had only a few minutes to go.  Finished fairly strong and rolled up to a gaggle of friends watching everyone else finish. We swapped a few stories before everyone began riding back to their cars and homes.

My time of 15:23 was not too bad considering I was on a normal road bike.  That made for an average speed of around 25 mph so I was fairly happy.  I started the ride home enjoying a nice conversation with Chrissy Fox and dodging gnats.  I said adieu to Chrissy and joined up with Jim Gilliam and Kenny Massa.  We start up Overlook hill when Kenny rides up to tell me my rear brake is rubbing.  Hmm, really?  Yep, it's definitely rubbing.  I reach back to adjust it and sure enough, it gets easier to pedal.  Once home, I take a look and the brake was rubbing again.  The main mounting bolt had come loose and the brake kept moving over and hitting my rim.  So it turns out I raced with my brakes on.  Great.  Oh well, not sure how much quicker I may have gone, maybe 20 seconds or a little more, but nothing to get my panties in a wad about.  At least it makes for a more interesting story.  Now it's time to start working on excuses for not racing next week... got some good ones forming now.

Happy Easter!!

NWA Spring Classic

Race number 4 for 2012 is in the history books.  The Northwest Arkansas Spring Classic, held in and around Prairie Grove, Arkansas just west of Fayetteville, is a 49 mile road race on a 24 mile rectangular loop.  The loop has a few rolling hills and one short punchy little hill about 6 miles from the finish line.  It's not a very difficult course with the exception that the wind was blowing pretty hard out of the south, which made the long run in to the finish line a little more challenging.

Saturday morning arrived after an awesome Friday evening out on the town. I experienced The Whitewater Tavern for the first time, which is hard to believe considering I grew up here and the Tavern is something of a gritty, long lived,  iconic dive hangout.  It wasn't the best preparation for Sundays race, but to be honest, I do enjoy living outside of my life as an aging amateur cyclist.  Cycling is such a self absorbed sport that it can gobble you up if you're not careful.  And while I love the feeling of being fit, competing and living this lifestyle, I also enjoy having a balanced life, which for me is about putting myself in close proximity to great people and if lucky enough, enjoying an incredible meal with them.

Saturday morning arrives as beautiful a day as there ever has been and Hunter and I go out for a short ride which included some leg opener intervals. Finished up the ride feeling good and it was time to get packed and start loading up the bus.  We're starting to get this Rockstar bus figured out. It doesn't take long to get rolling now that everyone knows what has to be done to pack and make sure we're ready to go.  The usual suspects were on the bus for this race including Kris French who was absent for Hell's Kitchen when he was racing La Vuelta a Mexico with a bunch of pros that have raced in the big tours in Europe.  And since we're on this subject, I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly congratulate Kris on finishing the grueling 8 day stage race.  We've all come to expect Kris to win a bunch of the local and regional races and while we're all impressed with his ability to roll across the line in first place, I would have to say I was much more impressed with the fact he finished this international event with no awards or accolades of any type.  I know for certain la Vuelta was a tough race for him.  His preparation was not ideal and in fact, he didn't even know he was going to race the event until about two weeks before it started when a combine team called him to see if he could join them.  So for Kris, this had to have been intimidating knowing it would most likely be the single hardest thing he's ever done.  And from talking to him afterwards, at least from a cycling perspective, it was.  Kris hung on every day to finish in the middle of the group or just make the time cut by the slightest margin in the big mountain stages.  I can tell you from experience, it's not easy to keep pedaling hard when you've been dropped.  Bicycle racers live by the notion that if you're not in the pack or in front of it riding away, you're not actually racing anymore.  Your mind sees this as a great opportunity to convince you to quit and take a much needed siesta.  So for Kris to summon the mental and emotional strength to fight every day for eight days when he could have easily called it quits, that's a huge victory in my mind.  I really do believe that participating in difficult sports provides us with a good opportunity to reveal our true character.  Not that any one event should define us, hell, we've all failed and performed well below what we know we're capable of.  We've given up, had bad attitudes and raced lazy... but every so often, we're faced with a challenge and given an opportunity to show how gritty a survivor we really are, and this Mexican race was Kris'.  He passed with flying colors in my book. So congratulations Kris, great work.

Back to our little race on Sunday.  After arriving and setting up camp behind the school/staging area for the race, we made dinner and had a relaxing evening watching a movie and getting bikes ready for the next day's race.  The next morning arrived after a decent nights sleep and we began our ritual of breakfast, greeting friends and teammates and then getting geared up to race.  The day started off warm and promised to get much warmer, which was just fine with me.  It was also destined to be yet another windy race with the wind blowing out of the south between 15-20 mph.

It's amazing how quickly two hours can go by when you're prepping for a race.  I looked at the clock and realized I had only an hour to get dressed and begin my warm-up, which I had intended to be a brisk one knowing the start was going to be pretty fast.  However, by the time I threw my leg over the bike, I was quickly running out of time with only 30 minutes left to turn the pedals before the gun went off.

Photo courtesy of Buster's girlfriend

Jay Hawkins, Buster Brown, Me, Peter "Dark Lord" Erdoes

And the gun did go off (well, actually someone yelled "GO") with a large'ish group of close to 50 masters leaving the school parking lot and rolling out to the neutral start.  No sooner had the race gone live than the first attacks started going off the front.  One innocuous little break eased up the road and Jay Hawkins and I chased it down in an attempt to keep the group together for a little while longer.  We quickly reached the two guys that had rode away and settled in on their wheels to wait for the peloton to come around us.  The main group never arrived and I started hearing guys yelling "go, go, go!"  I looked back and we had a group of 7 (two of us from OKC Velo.) with a small gap from the main field.  The break started rolling and Jay and I looked at each other knowing this wasn't part of plan but also feeling that burning desire to ride and hope we can stay away. But, we had a team plan and this group wasn't going to work.  Jay and I rolled through softly a few times knowing we would get caught and not much later, the group arrived.

The raced progressed as usual with another small break getting up the road, also with an OKC guy, namely Gil Summy.  Gil sat in on the break for almost 20 miles until the field brought them back.  And no sooner than Gil's break was caught than more attacks started launching one after another into the stiff headwind.  We finished the fist 24 mile loop and had just started the second when I realized I had made a big tactical error.  I should have been sitting in the top 5 guys when we hit the big crosswind section, but instead, I was caught sleeping about 20 back in the pack when Jay Hawkins attacks and takes two teammates (Peter Erdoes and Les Akins) with him, along with Peter Beland (BMC Walmart) and a few snapple guys.  Tyson Foods wasn't represented in the break so I fully expected them to bring the break back.

However, the break starts to make some headway in spite of Tyson's chase efforts.  When the break hit the big tailwind section they disappeared up the road.  I'm now thinking this could stick and with the guys we had in the break, we were sure to win if they could stay away.  Ex National Champion and OKC teammate extraordinaire, Buster Brown, proceeded to control the peloton along with a few of the other OKC guys in the field.  I let them do the work until we finished the tailwind section then I moved to the front and stayed there covering attacks and chase efforts for the remainder of the race.  Since Tyson Foods wasn't represented and now the Snapple guys were dropped from the break, Tyson did most of the chasing (along with lone Snapple man Steve Auchterlow) and attacking once we hit the last time up the big headwind road.  Bruce Dunn put in a hard effort up the steep hill along with one of his teammates, I sat on his wheel thinking we had surely peeled more guys off the pack, which we had, but once we got to the top, Bruce sat up, no doubt frustrated he wasn't getting much help, and this allowed everyone to catch back on, but more importantly, it gave the break a fighting chance to stay away.  So far, so good.  Our break is still up the road although we can see them and they're getting a little closer after Tyson and Snapple start working again to bring them back.

We begin closing in on the finish and once we could see the 5k to go sign, it was clear the break was going to stay away.  It was now time to start thinking about the field sprint and like the master of disaster he is, Buster, all the while resting and simultaneously trash talking to everyone in the field, and two of our other teammates, go to the front and string out the field in the lead-up to the sprint.  I positioned myself about 5 riders back with 1k to go knowing I had just enough left in the legs to do a 200 meter sprint into the 20 mph headwind.  A couple of guys launched their sprint too far out and had no choice but to go with them... I caught Bruce Dunn's wheel until he sat up and was then on my own chasing the 3 guys in front of me.  I rolled across third in the field sprint and 8th on the day.

Since the break finished just in front of us, we quickly rolled up to Peter, Jay and Les and got the scoop on how their group finished up.  Les Akins won overall with Peter 2nd and Jay 4th.  Peter Beland (BMC Walmart) was 3rd out of the lead group.  The Pirates rode perfectly today and we ended up with the result we wanted.  Meanwhile, Hunter was back to his cramping ways and had a serious hammy lock-up around mile 46 in the Pro 1,2 race.  His race was over, as it should have been, at that point.  The damage of continuing to race on for another 26 miles to the finish would have set him back another week in his training, so he did the smart thing and bowed out.  I'm sure there were some guys happy to see him gone but Hunter was not too pleased.  Kris, still exhausted from racing in Mexico and reeling from Montezuma's revenge, had a non-typical pack finish.  Evan, our 15 year old master of the "Pro Look" finished somewhere just outside of 10th place in the Cat 4 race.  He was arguably out of his element with a windy course and no difficult climbs.  It was still an excellent result and yet another race completed to add to his experience portfolio.

We packed up the bus after splitting our prize money and proceeded to get underway.  I had been so busy being social and getting the bus ready, I never managed to get in a shower before we departed.  So I decided to work on my newest skill set.... shower taking in a moving motor home.  It's not as sexy as learning the art of numchucks, but it does require a high level of strength and stamina to take a shower inside a bus turning left and right navigating small town roads.  I managed not to"crash" inside the shower and came out somewhat cleaner than I went in...Win!

While none of us ended up with the personal results we wanted on Sunday, it was still another fantastic weekend spent with great friends and doing something we really love.  Oh, and my bike tan is coming along nicely for those of you wondering, and I know some of you have been... and so is my fitness.  Now I get to relax for a day before the intervals start up again on Tuesday.

Hell's Kitchen is just that

When I planned my season back in the fall, I scheduled races as A, B or C events.  "A" events are the most important, B, less so, etc.  Hell's Kitchen was an A event for me this year, primarily because it was my first race last year after only three weeks of training and I performed so poorly that, although I finish (Never Quit!), they DNP'd me... Did Not Place.  Humiliating and motivating at the same time.  So this Sunday was my opportunity to redeem myself and show how hard I've worked over the past 12 months.  I was completely confident I could ride well up the Hell's Kitchen climb and position myself for a strong finish and possibly a win.

I've been riding really well lately and fine tuning my legs for specific racing demands.  Last Sunday we raced Rouge Roubaix, a tough 106 mile race with about 25 miles of dirt/gravel roads and some punchy little climbs thrown in to make sure the winner was a strong man, and not just a pretender.  If you read my last post, you know I felt strong last weekend but had some bad luck with a flat tire at the very wrong time in the race.  The week following the race, I've been training and resting trying to balance my need to continue to get stronger and also recover from over 5 hours of racing on Sunday.  I was struggling a little with sleep and feeling like my legs weren't quite coming back as quickly as they should.  Saturday, Hunter and I went out for what we call "leg openers"... they're basically sub max efforts designed to "open" up the legs the day before a race.  Most people might find this counter-intuitive, thinking rest before a race is the way to prepare.  It isn't.  Doing some hard race type efforts the day before has a way of waking up the body and helping one feel alert and ready for max efforts the following day.  The most important day to rest before an event is two days before.  Likewise, typically two days after a hard effort is when you'll feel it's effects the most.  During our interval session Saturday morning, the legs weren't feeling progressively better as they typically do with each interval.  This concerned me a little, not too much, but enough to let me know I may not be 100% on race day.

After our morning ride, we loaded up the motor home and drove up to Hogeye, Arkansas, a little area south of Fayetteville, where the race is staged in the parking lot of a small, old church.  We found a premium spot for the motor home, got set up and prepared our very first dinner on the bus. Spaghetti with ground elk marinara sauce.  It was a nice, relaxing and peaceful way to prepare for "Hell" the next morning.

Woke up after a decent nights sleep, made coffee and breakfast and started hosting team mates as they found their way to the bus.  Strategy talks began and everyone started to turn on the race attitudes.  It's funny how we can have one personality in our daily life but once it's race time, we change completely.  We become very focused and not necessarily the sweetest people in the world.  We race to win, and it's not always a pretty.

A few of the guys talking race strategy before all HELL broke loose.

OKC Velo came out in a big way for Hell's Kitchen with at least 12 men prepared to race the Masters event.  We decided this was overkill and so four of us entered the Cat 3 event instead.  Jay Hawkins, Tony and John LaSorsa and yours truly.  We warmed up, talked strategy and rode to the start line just in time for roll call.

The course is a 20 mile loop resembling a rectangle and running generally north and south.  We were scheduled to ride two and half laps making for three times up the big hill.  The race began innocently enough with everyone wanting to conserve energy before the first time up the climb, about 11 miles away.  I hung out at the back of the pack and chatted with some old CARVE teammates when a lone attacker when up the road after only about 4 miles into the race.  I never saw who it was and frankly wasn't too worried.  The wind was picking up and we had 48 miles still and three times to race up the climb, this guy was NOT going anywhere.  The closer we got to the climb, the closer I got to the front of the group.  There was an intermediate hill about 5 miles before the big one and I went to the front in my big chain ring to warm up my legs a little. I wasn't feeling too sprite this morning and was worried I might not get fully warmed up before we hit the base of the Hell's Kitchen climb. We crested the top of the intermediate hill and caught sight of the guy up the road.  It was my teammate John LaSorsa.  If there is one thing you can say about Masters racers, they attack, a lot.  I guess we've experienced so much in our lives that risking a little leg pain doesn't register in our brains anymore. We caught John just before the big climb and I gave him a pat on the back for a job well done.

The beginning of Hell's Kitchen climb, or "Tomato Rd" as it's known locally, is a short steep'ish ramp that disappears into the trees about a quarter a mile later.  After this initial ramp, the road eases a little as it skirts the base of the mountain.  Rolling up the climb, my heart rate was unusually high even though we weren't working very hard.  I'm sitting in the top 8-10 guys because once we crest the official summit, there remains a false flat and a cross wind which makes it very difficult to catch back on if you're already in the red zone and behind the leaders.  The climb continues for another half mile or so and then begins to steepen again until it levels a little and you can see the real part of the climb ahead which looks like a narrow paved wall that you can reach out and touch.  This narrow wall is VERY steep and just as you think it can't get steeper, the road turns to the right and gets, well, steeper-er.  The steepest section then turns to the left for the final 200 meters to the finish line.  I managed to hang on to the lead group over the top, but in all honesty, was completely pegged.  I didn't want to look at my computer to see what my heart rate was and didn't need to because I literally had tunnel vision and my arms were numb from oxygen debt.  For those of you non-endurance sports people, this is NOT a good sign.  I was hurting and it took everything I had to stay with the group over the top.

Once over the climb, the road turns back to the north for a mostly downhill run of about 7 miles.  The wind was out of the south at about 10-15 mph and so the pace was quick along this section.  We descended the mountain and with very little effort topped 52 mph as my max speed.  Some of the bigger guys were hitting over 55 I'm sure.  We continued to push hard, essentially closing the door on anyone who had been dropped on the climb.  I was slowly recovering when we turned west,  hitting the crosswinds again.  The first loop had been completed and I'm already in the hurt locker after only about 21 miles.  I'm not feeling confident about the next time up the hill which will definitely come too soon.  Luckily, John LaSorsa decided to attack, again, and this time took about 4 guys with him up the road.  Enough teams were represented that we were now in blocking mode, which Jay Hawkins and I were obligated and happy to do.  There were a lot of attacks from guys wanting to bridge up to the break but those 5 had over two minutes on us and were out of sight and out of reach.

How do you make a twenty mile loop go by quickly?  You throw a really hard hill a little over halfway into it and call it "Hell's Kitchen."  If you really dread something, it's guaranteed to happen much sooner than you'd like it to.  Damn that hill came too soon.  We started the climb for the 2nd time and I was with the front group halfway up but the signs weren't good.  Jay Hawkins rides past me with a little sage advice to manage my effort.  The first time up the hill, my heart rate was really high, and even though I felt bad, I could at least utilize my full aerobic abilities to claw my way into the lead pack.  This second time I couldn't get my heart rate up, which is much worse and a sure sign that I was fatigued.  Regardless, the race is still happening and I needed to find a way to get to the top with the leaders.  We hit the second steep'ish section of the big climb and I came off the back of the lead group.  I decided to allow myself some breathing room on the steepest section of the hill and ride my own pace (as if I really had a choice at this point) and hope that some of the guys would slow down as the hill got steeper. The pressure was on though and once we hit the wall, I was getting gapped further.  I teamed up with Andrew Moffitt and one other guy I didn't know, Ronnie, I think is his name, and started our chase with the lead group just up the road.  We were working well together and kept the group from increasing their lead on us, but we never made much of a dent in the gap.  As we rounded the course and back into the headwind, my legs began to shut down.  By the time we hit the intermediate hill for the third time, I was done.  I sat up deciding it was better to roll in easily and do less damage to my form than try and race for 17th place and dig a deeper hole to try and recover from.

One last time up the hill and slowly across the finish line greeted by teammates.  I was happy to have this race over.  This was a very poor performance on my part and while I understand why I rode the way I did, I was still not very happy with it. It's such an awful feeling to race this way but I know the legs will recover and I'll have much better days ahead.  I guess my biggest disappointment is selecting this event as an A race and not riding well.  Failure is never an easy pill to swallow... in fact, its a downright horse choker.

John LaSorsa stayed away in his break and was rewarded with 3rd place.  Jay Hawkins managed to contest the final hill with the pack but not sure his final placing in our Cat 3 group.  Hunter and Frank Jakofcich finished 2nd and 3rd in the Masters race for OKC Velo.  Hunter ended up 1st and Frank 2nd in the 40+ category.  Most impressive of all was Evan East's 2nd place finish in the Men's Cat 4 race. Evan (15) put himself in a break of 6 riders and rode brilliantly to place 2nd just behind another wunderkind 16 year old... sorry, I don't have his name but my guess is we'll all know it very soon.  Arkansas has some incredible junior talent right now.  Look out world, we may be sending a few guys to the Tour de France in a few years.

Time to eat, rest and get ready for the next race which should be the Northwest Arkansas Classic, again in the Fayetteville area in two weeks.

2012 Rouge Roubaix

I'm tired... really tired.  Yesterday was my first Rouge Roubaix, a 106 mile race through Cajun country with about 25 miles of dirt road and steep hills thrown in to make it interesting.  A leisurely ride of 106 miles with friends and a coffee stop, or two, is hard enough.  Racing under these road conditions in what has become a very prestigious race, brings on a whole new level of "what the f@#k!" My race didn't go as planned but I was not alone on this beautiful, warm winter day. A lot of casualties besides me and each with a great story behind it I'm sure.  The nature of a race like this warrants some poetic waxing, but I'm soooo tired, I'm going to leave that to the guys at Rapha.  Instead, I'm going to give this one to you business style, yep, you got it, bullet points.  Just remember, I'm sparing you the Power Point presentation, so you can thank me now.

• Masters Race (about 90 men, plus the women's field) rolled out neutral at 8:30 a.m.
• The fastest 3 mile neutral start in the history of bicycle racing ensued.

Photo: Michael Lyons 

Rolling out from the hotel

• Race is now live, small break goes off the front with Hunter East and Peter Beland driving the boat.
• Peter and Hunter get a good gap
• Panic (not me, but everyone else panics)
• Chasing begins and no one is warmed up...who warms up for a 106 mile event!?
• Should have warmed up, no seriously, this would have been smart.
• Hunter and Peter are out of sight
• Tight twisty roads and the chase is fast and furious.
• The pack is much smaller now
• Scott Gurganus rides up to me and says this is the fastest start to this race, ever. 
• At least I think that's what he said, most of the blood was in my legs at this point.
• Hunter and Peter are reeled back at about mile 20. 
• Hunter flats but gets quick wheel change and back in the group  
• Pack settles in before positioning battles start prior to the first dirt section at mile 25
• I hit the first dirt section in about 15th position
• Legs are awesome today and I'm officially warmed up now.
• Field is splitting further under the pressure of the pace and the gravel road
• I'm now sitting 10th or 12th about two miles into the 8 mile section
• Rear tire goes flat... s#@t !
• The spare wheel truck is no where in sight
• Two minutes later wheel changed and I start hammering
• See Peter Beland putting his broken bike in the wheel truck, along with himself.
• Finish first dirt section alone with pack no where in sight

Photo: Michael Lyons 

End of first dirt section, alone, utterly alone.

• Collect two guys so I can have someone to talk to for the rest of the day (70 miles)
• Pick up bottles at feed zone 50 miles into race... thank you dude! You know who you are :)
• Pack of 25 catches us (dropped guys from our field)
• Ride with this group to the second dirt section
• Hit Blockhouse hill around mile 66 and feeling strong.  
• By the end of this dirt/sand section, we went from 25 to 6

Photo: Michael Lyons 

Top of Blockhouse Hill

• Ride with this group to the third dirt section at mile 83
• This "dirt" road is actually loose sand and gravel. But I guess "loose sand and gravel" road doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely, so we'll stick with "dirt" road. 
• Our group hits the steep loose hill.  
• Did the unthinkable, had to dismount but going as fast as the guy riding next to me.
• Back on the bike and now there are two guys out of the 6 ahead of me.
• I catch one of them as he repairs his flat.
• Catch more guys from the 3/4 race, they ride with me, then disappear behind me
• Beautiful forest. 
• "Dirt" road apparently ended and pavement began.  I honestly couldn't tell the difference.
• Finally some decent pavement.
• Well, that lasted for about a mile, back to the pavement that was originally laid in 1912 and hasn't been touched since.
• Catch a few more guys and keep riding, they're dead on their bikes and can't respond to my greetings.
• Legs are still working fairly well with about 10 miles to go.
• 6 more miles, a small group is catching me.

About 4 miles to go. Low water crossing.

• Only two guys in this group catch me, I passed these guys earlier (Cat 3s I think), 
• One of these two literally disappears as quickly as he got there.  I'm still a little worried about him.
• The others never made it up to me, which leaves me and the new guy. 
• We start working together and actually riding fairly fast... woohoo! I'm racing again.
• I ride in with the new guy who is fighting fatigue and couldn't ride in a straight line if he had to. But he keeps riding hard.
• Courage, this race takes plenty of it.
• Up the last hill and done... well, almost.
• Still have to ride 2 miles back to the hotel.

Quick, somebody take a picture of me, I look so darn good!

• Finished 19th
• Still tired.

Alex Harvie

Well, that's about it. The rest of our crew had similar luck but Hunter was successful in pulling out a 4th place on the day, an awesome result especially considering he was cramping and lost a two minute lead with about 23 miles to go.  Evan East had a flat and other mechanical problems.  He packed it in at mile 52.  Kris French flatted twice in the first 17 miles and rode in alone to finish 18th in the Pro,1,2 field in a time that would have most likely won the Masters race.  Packed up the bus and started the long drive home.  Fell asleep on the couch...awesome, then woke up, ate, and went back to sleep. Repeated this several times for good measure.

I'm already thinking about next year and hoping for better luck, but first, Hell's Kitchen is this weekend with a new finish on top of the Hell's Kitchen climb, that won't hurt at all!

Kris French pretending to be the Six Million Dollar Man running at 60 mph down the highway.

Crosswind Classic

The first race of the season is in the books and I'm fairly happy with the outcome.  I didn't net a "W" as I had hoped but I did everything I could to win given how the race worked out.  The weather was fantastic and the temps almost tipped 60 by the time we exited our neutral roll-out in Galloway, Arkansas.  The course, an unbelievably flat 12.8 mile loop, was not too windy, although it was blowing and as usual, had an impact on our tactics.

Normally I wake up on race morning with a few butterflies but this day was different.  The day before, Friday, I was nervous and could distinctly feel the pit in my stomach.  Nothing too outrageous for the first race of the season... but regardless, the feelings were there and I never really like that feeling. Oddly enough, come race morning, I woke up without even a single nervous tinge but did have a burning desire to race.  This was a great start to the day and made my morning cup of Rossland Mountain coffee go down that much easier.    Drove over to Hunters where we loaded up the Rockstar motorhome and cruised to the Truck Center of Arkansas parking lot for the race staging and signup.  After getting the bus parked and set-up, we had enough time to give friends a tour of Hunter's new toy and get ourselves leisurely organized for the days event.

Two of our teammates, Tony LaSorsa and Bob Brown drove in from Oklahoma and we got busy talking trash and strategy for the days racing.  Hunter had decided to race the Pro, 1,2  event and the rest of us were going to slog away in the Masters field which ended up with 40+  riders from around the region.

Most cyclists are a little apprehensive about the first race of the season as no one has really had a chance to test their legs and you never know who will show up having secretly trained hard all winter and ready to dole out the punishment.  Me, I'm more worried about choosing a good pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes from the intense glare of all the white legs in the peloton.  You may be the strongest guy in the bunch, but when your legs have the pigment content of sheet of copy paper, you just don't look fast.  The only good news is, everyone is looking about the same with the exception of the guys who either refuse to shave their legs or just haven't gotten around to it yet.  At least they have a slight buffer of hair to absorb the intense rays of reflected sunlight.

Pigment or no pigment, it was time for racing.  I lined up under the impression that nothing was going to get away from the peloton given the flat and not too windy conditions.  After our short neutral roll out, I positioned myself at the back of the pack only to see the Tyson Food and Snapple teams out of NW Arkansas positioning themselves at the front.  I decided to ride up to the front and no sooner had I done this than the first attack went up the road with less than a mile into the race.  I noticed one Snapple, one Tyson and one of my Teammates up the road.  Given the number of riders Snapple and Tyson had in our field, they could easily block and discourage an effective chase and I desparately wanted in the break.  I wasn't warmed up, but what the hell.  I let it rip and attacked with everything I had in hopes of bridging the gap alone and helping to drive this break 52 miles to the finish.  Unfortunately, I ended up dragging 7 other men up with me but there was good news here... we now had a large enough break that if we worked well together, we could keep this group clear of the main field for the entire race without spending a tremendous amount of energy.  I would much rather sprint against 10 other guys than 40 or more so it was time to help make this effort stick.

Photo: Lea Ann Bumpers

Rolling through the Finish/Feed zone - Yours truly hanging out at the back while the guys grab their food and water.

Photo: Lea Ann Bumpers

Water!? I don't need no stinking water!

We set off making excellent tempo riding around 29 mph and quickly putting time on the main field.  After our first of 4 laps, we could no longer see the group behind us and so everyone continued to cooperate and gain distance on our rivals.  Our breakaway group consisted of 4 Tyson, 4 Snapple, 2 OKC Velo and one other guy I did not know.  The important thing at this point was to mark any attacks that had at least one Snapple and one Tyson rider.  There were a few attacks on the third lap and Tony and I were able to chase these breaks down and keep the group together.  As we rolled along on our last lap, I was confident there would be some attacks in the last 5 miles and so decided I was going to play my cards by being in each and every one of them until one stuck.  After the final turn leading up to the finish about 4 miles out, Bruce Dunn (Tyson) attacked and took Pat Zimmerman (Snapple) with him.  I quickly rode up to them and we got a small gap from the group.  I was positive we would stay away and sprint for the win between the three of us.  What I wasn't considering was the lone guy in our group, that I did not know, who ultimately chased us down and brought the entire breakaway back together.... I was not a happy camper when we were caught, but bitching and moaning was not going to win this race so I made it into another break which was also short lived.  We were getting very close to the finish and Snapple was beginning to set tempo in hopes of setting up Eugene Kirsch for the sprint. With about 1 kilometer to go, I sat third wheel just behind Zimmerman and had my teammate, Tony, on my wheel.  Tony is a better sprinter than I so it made sense to put him in a position to win after I had burned a few matches trying to make the all of the late race breakaways.

Zimmerman was now leading us into the final 300 meters and I was immediately on his wheel.  I was positioned slightly to his right side trying to take advantage of the crosswind draft when he sat up and moved hard to his right.  No sooner had he done this than the Tyson guys launched their sprint.  I had to hit my brakes and come around Zimmerman (sorry for yelling at you Pat) and by the time I had done that, the sprint was heading up the road.  Tony's legs weren't cooperating and he had a not so typical sprint which netted him 5 place.  I rolled in 6th and none too happy about it.  However, after a little reflection, I was happy with the day and how my form is coming along.  Flat races are not my thing so helping to establish the race long break and getting 6th overall, not too bad for the first race of the season.

Photo: Lea Ann Bumpers

Rolling across the line in 6th, not too happy at the time.  I'm much better now.

Photo: Lea Ann Bumpers

Tony LaSorsa rolling across in 5th with me in tow.

I'd like to send a special shout out to the Tyson guys for finish 1,2,3 in our race and mopping up the lion's share of the prize money.  The OKC Velo Pirates will be out for revenge at Hell's Kitchen!  I'd  also like to send a big "thank you" to my other team mate, Bob Brown, for keeping the pack at bay and allowing our break to succeed.  A special "kudos" to Lea Ann Bumpers for taking some great shots of the race as she always does.
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Up next, Rouge Roubaix.  106 miles of Southern Louisiana epic road/dirt racing this weekend.  I'm going to need all of the cycling gods on my side for what will surely be a major suffer fest.

First Race of the Season - Prelude

The Crosswind Classic marks the first road race of the Arkansas competitive Cycling calendar in 2012.  It begins and ends tomorrow in Galloway just east of Little Rock and promises to be one of the flattest races of the season.  Flat may sound easy, but I can assure you it's actually harder than most hilly events.  With hills, the legs get used much differently going up and down the grades but more importantly, there is a significant rest for the legs even when pedaling downhill.  With the warm/mild winter we've had, there should be some strong men and women showing up at the start line tomorrow as most have been training more than usual for this time of year.  I expect we'll see some familiar local faces along with our colleagues from NW Arkansas, Memphis and even a few of my teammates from Oklahoma toeing the line in the different race categories.  Yours truly will be racing the masters race which begins at 10:40 a.m.

Personally, I'm not sure what to expect as my training has been a little disjointed due to all of the travel I've been doing the past several months.  I have managed some good training sessions though and hopefully a little luck and good attitude will help me net a decent result tomorrow in my 52 mile event.

The race wheels are on the Jolly Roger (my new bike) and I'll head out after work to do some leg opening efforts in anticipation of a good battle tomorrow.  Stay tuned for a full race report later this weekend.  Keep Calm and Race On!

Blog worthy weekend

I'm officially tired.  So tired that I want to keep this post short and sweet but don't think that's going to happen.  This was one of those epic ride weekends and something I have to write about so my grand children can see the kind of abuse I put myself through when I was a little younger.  Maybe it will inspire them to step away from the computer and experience the outdoors.

The goal for Saturday and Sunday was to get in 8 hours of riding... no structure or intensity, just find a way to ride for a total of 8 hours.  It was a base mile weekend and necessary to prepare properly for the upcoming season.  Saturday was easy enough and I enjoyed a great day riding around Lake Maumelle with a couple of friends joining me along the way.  Legs and back were understandably "achy" after 4:15 of riding time but not bad considering it's been since October since I've ridden 4 hours.

Sunday's ride would prove to be a little less pleasant.   Hunter and I were planning to ride together and he had some catching up to do after returning from a Cotton Bowl fun fest with Jerry Jones and crew on Saturday and only getting a couple hours in rather than the 4 he had originally planned.  We were to ride around the back side of Lake Maumelle and then out to Thornburg, back on Hwy 10 to Williams Junction then on to Paron and back into Little Rock via Ferndale.  We started off with Hunter's son Evan, and Michael Lasiter, who both turned back for LR before we reached the foot of Wye Mtn.  Hunter and I were on our own now and enjoyed a nice steady tempo and good conversation which was the way I was hoping the ride would go for the remainder of the day.  We rode through Little Italy and turned right to head down the back (West side) of Wye Mtn.  We were looking forward to what is arguably the funnest descent in the area.  We drilled it at the top of the mtn and got up to speed quickly and flowing nicely down the hill until we noticed an 18 wheeler stuck on the inside of the sharp right hand turn that is the crux of the descent.  Unfortunately we had to break hard to get around the truck which forced us into the oncoming lane along with a couple of other vehicles.  Now we were stuck behind a pick-up truck who couldn't get down the mtn nearly as fast as we could and we ended up riding our brakes for the final disappointing mile of the mountain.  Bummer!!

Now that we were down the hill we turned west and rode towards Hwy 10.  No longer were we riding at a moderate conversational tempo.  Hunter was feeling strong and so we began what would be a lopsided two man time trial for 3 hours back to Little Rock with a short nutrition break at William's Junction.  So onward we rode and no sooner had we begun the hard efforts than I look up and we're already at Hwy 10 and turning left over the Thornburg climb.  Hunter immediately starts putting even more pressure on the pedals and now I'm in trouble.  My legs and back are hurting from the previous day's efforts and I'm already in survival mode with almost three hours left to ride... not good!  Got to the top of the climb and Hunter pulls me into Williams Junction for some much needed refueling.

Food and drink now consumed and back on the bike, the rain starts to fall.  Great, I guess 8+ hours in the saddle wasn't going to be enough suffering this weekend,  now I'm going to have to put on my man pants and go all "Belgian hard man" on this ride.  The good news is, I'm feeling really good again and riding well up the Paron hill.  We hit the top and start forcing the pace to Paron where we made our turn east towards Ferndale.  My back is starting to ache again (lovely) and the legs aren't much better.  It's not easy putting pressure on the pedals when the back is suffering, so I nut-up, and do my pulls to the top of the next long hill before we begin our gradual descent into Ferndale.  It's raining off and on and the road is soaked.  To make matters worse, I'm in trouble and not sure how I'm going to keep this pace.  I'm secretly hoping Hunter is going to start hurting and let up a little.  In the mean time, we get a call from his daughter, his wife Dustin is not feeling well and he's needed at home... maybe he'll want to stop and call Donnie Van Patter to pick us up and drive us back.  Heck, I have over 8 hours already for the weekend, I don't have any need to ride further.  "Hunter, want to stop and call Donnie when we get to Ferndale?" He shakes his head.... "Are you sure!?"  "I know he's sitting at home watching football and he'd be happy to pick us up, he lives just a few miles from here." Hunter - bastard son of the devil - East, wants nothing of it.  He's on a roll and not about to let me throw in the towel.  So now that Dustin isn't feeling well, Hunter goes into "rescue the family" mode and really starts riding hard, because, well, he wasn't riding hard enough before!  There is nothing I can do but hang on for dear life.  I can't pull through so I  focus on his rear wheel so hard that I have no idea where we are.  I have water spraying into my eyes and mouth and I have to move to the side and partially out of Hunter's draft which makes hanging on even more challenging. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to let up and just ride easy home, which was still over an hour away at this point.  I'm out of water again so Hunter gives me his bottle and gets back to his hero ride.  I'm taking this day one pedal stroke at a time now as we power through Ferndale.  I'm sure my facial expression resembled that of someone being tortured in the dungeon of some medieval castle...because that's exactly the way it was feeling at this point.

We finally make it back to Pinnacle mtn for a short water bottle break and the hammer fest begins again in earnest as Hunter can smell home.  I'm absolutely amazed I'm still on his wheel.  Hunter promises he'll let up once we hit the park leading to Two River's bridge.  The park is only a mile away now but I can feel cramps about to happen and thinking this is just stupid, ease up, let him go take care of his family.  He looks back at me and says just a little longer.  WTF!  I'm toast dude!  Put my head down again and the next thing I know, he sits up.  Hallelujah!!!!  We ride easy the rest of the way but still have to make it up Overlook before I crawl home.  I remark how this was definitely a "blog worthy" ride but we didn't have any pictures to commemorate it.  Hunter pulls out his phone as we begin Overlook hill and we snap a few shots.  I even manage a smile.

The Garmin rarely lies

Hunter - Bastard son of the devil - East

Me