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!
Friday, February 24, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
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 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
Monday, December 19, 2011
It's On!
Hunting season is officially over for me and it's time to start generating some power. The first race of the season is merely two months away on February 25th and luckily enough, in Little Rock. Woohoo! Two weeks after the Little Rock event, Rouge Roubaix will be next on my hit list. For those of you not familiar, it's our Southern version of Paris Roubaix, the famous road race across northern France that occurs over some of the worst cobbled roads Europe has to offer. It's an epic event that tests legs, machine and spirit. Since we don't have cobbled roads here in the south, our friends in Baton Rouge substitute with gravel roads combined with steep sandy hills. This will be my first Rouge Roubaix but I have a lot of friends who have raced it many times and the stories are all the same... "Best race I've ever done! It Sucked!!!!" How those two statements can make it out of the same mouth at the same time confound me, so I have to see it for myself. 106 miles with at least 20 miles of hilly gravel roads and a top Masters field. Bring it!
So the training begins in earnest and I'm feeling good compared to what I normally feel like this time of year. I haven't been riding much but my thrice weekly strength and conditioning workouts with Alan, the meanest man in Little Rock, Thompson, have given me some fitness I haven't seen since my early 20s. It's also that time of the year when the lights are placed on my road bike and the trainer rides begin, which completely suck btw. I love riding outside but some nights, it's just too nasty to ride and the thought of riding indoors is more appealing that enduring the elements.... I know, hard to believe but I'm getting soft in my middle age.
George Hincapie - Paris Roubaix
Hoping I don't pull one of these
Rouge Roubaix
The view from my recent ride at the Hampton Inn. So Glamorous
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Amanda's first hunting trip
For those of you who have children, and especially teenage girls, you know exactly how challenging it can be to stay close to them and feel as though they are hearing us as parents. I have two beautiful daughters, one who has recently started college and an aspiring interior designer. The other a 14 year old who just started high school. I've been a lucky as a father and only had to endure a little of the teenage angst years. My girls were so cute and sweet prior to puberty kicking in and to be honest, when my oldest daughter started testing her boundaries, I really wasn't sure how to handle it. With my youngest, and I think many parents can relate to this, she received the benefit of my mistakes with her older sister. I still have high expectations and requirements for my youngest, Amanda, but I've learned to be more calm and understanding in the process of teaching her. The benefit has been I have an absolutely wonderful relationship with both my girls but now my youngest is entering what is arguably the most important time of her life, I have an opportunity to relate and teach her things that will help her cope with life with a little grace and strength.
Amanda has grown up in the rare air of Colorado and what can be described as a somewhat odd culture made up of people from around the country. The local culture in Colorado is a strange mix that ultimately centers around outdoor sports... which is great, but not very warm and inviting as a culture that has evolved from a long history, namely that of Southern Culture.
Amanda has developed an increasing fondness for the south, and in particular, my home town Little Rock, Arkansas. Amanda, like many "babies" of the family, has no trouble making friends and being the center of attention. Ever since she was a toddler, she has displayed the ability to laugh and make others laugh.... not always at the most appropriate of times, but by golly, she knows how to live with a smile on her face. So it should come as no surprise she has made many friends during her frequent visits to Little Rock over the years.
This past summer, Amanda started cycling with me and some of the friends she has made over the years. It took a few weeks, but she adapted to the oppressive heat and started to enjoy the thought of going out with good friends and basking in the after fatigue of a hard ride. Ever since her return to Colorado, she has been begging for a road bike and has somehow talked Triathlete legend and 348 time winner of Ironman Hawaii, Dave Scott, into coaching her, for free! This girl has skills... she will one day be a great "something" based solely on her ability to talk people into doing what she wants.
Now, for those who know me, I have two seasons in my life... Cycling and archery hunting. I'm smack dab in the middle of archery deer season right now, which, oddly enough, happens to be at the end of the season too. It won't be long and I'll be throwing my leg over the bike and logging the miles once again. But for now, its me, a tree stand and by trusty bow, trying to bring home some venison.
Amanda flew to Little Rock for the Thanksgiving Holiday this past Thursday night. No sooner had I rousted her out of bed Friday morning and we were off to hunting camp. My goal was to spend some quality time and teach her a little about the hunting heritage and how it benefits not only ourselves, but wildlife in general. I was a little surprised when she said she wanted to actually hunt and not just go to hang out and ride 4 wheelers.
Who knew Camo could look so beautiful
So, our first night in the blind and the deer were not liking the windy conditions and waited until the last possible moment to come out to feed. We had three does come within 150 yards and I prepared Amanda to take her first shot on a deer. Once she had a clear and safe shot, she hesitated and the deer moved into a bad position. She said, "Dad, I'm scared." I reassured her that we all had those feelings when the moment of truth came and that it was normal to feel that way. I also let her know that she didn't have to do this if she really didn't want to. Her comment was, "Dad, I'm scared of the noise the gun makes, not of shooting the deer!" Well, long story short, the three deer wandered out of sight but no sooner had they left our area when two more came in. The biggest of the two does presented a perfect shot for my little girl, who I affectionately refer to as "Peanut." With a little coaching and encouragement, she overcame her fear of the noise and recoil, and squeezed the trigger for what was an absolutely perfect shot. We watched the deer fall after only two seconds and I now prepared myself to console my daughter for what was inevitably going to be some remorse, which is totally natural. I looked at her and I have never seen someone so happy and proud. No doubt I was equally, if not more proud of her. What I haven't mentioned to this point is, Amanda has never fired a weapon of any sort before tonight. All it took was a little coaching prior to getting into the blind that night and she displayed cool, calm and a true hunter instinct. More importantly though, we were able to share this moment together, which for me, will go down as one of the greatest days of my life.
Before our first hunt together
After the hunt and just before Amanda excused herself from the not so glamorous part of hunting.
We cooked up some of the Tenders last night for what was an incredibly delicious meal. My brother and sister in law browned some Tenderloin medalions and served in a white wine reduction cream sauce along with wild rice. "Great" doesn't begin to describe how good this was. Also, for those of you who have never liked wild game because of the gamey flavor, I'm here to tell you that gameness is a function of how the animal is processed. Treat it like a butcher would and you'll get the same result. Treat it poorly and you'll get the same poor taste. We know how to handle our deer and we treat them with the respect they deserve. We're rewarded with a low fat lean meat that has eaten only natural browse and have never had an injection of anything to keep them healthy and artificially increase their weight. What more can you ask?
Dinner never tasted so good. Subscribe to my blog and I'll be happy to send you the recipe.
We spent another night in the blind together to end a fantastic weekend and were fortunate to see a lot of deer. Amanda learned more about wildlife and how we can successfully interact with our environment. Now it's time to start thinking about Thanksgiving with family and count the many blessings we are so fortunate to have.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and your family. Please drive safely and remember what is truly important in life, health, family and truly good friends.
Cheers,
JD
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Oklahoma State Road Race Championships
I've been riding fairly well lately and given I have a new team and a bolus injection of motivation, I decided to do one last race this season. The team I recently joined is based mostly out of Oklahoma City and Oklahoma in general and they had their State Road Race Championships the other weekend. Not living in Oklahoma and having no aspirations to do well in the race, I thought it would be fun to drive up and race with the guys one last time before off season had us going in different directions and the the gun goes off again in early March. Considering myself to be a team player and teammate extraordinaire, this race was the perfect event to selflessly lay my efforts on the line for the local guys in hopes we can win a state champion jersey or two. No pressure at all, just race for the guys and have fun.
Masters racing is generally raced in age group categories with a variety of talent and skill levels mixed in to each. State Championships follow this age defined format and all age categories are mixed in together, at least for this event. It can be nice having all masters together especially when it provides us with a large field, but the racing can be very confusing when breaks are being established and teams are trying to figure out if they are properly represented. So paying attention to what's going on is critical to being successful.
The race began with a 4 mile neutral roll-out through the town of Shawnee which was a little odd riding slow for so long at the beginning of a race. But, given the congestion on this side of town, it was the smart thing to do and provided a nice relaxing start to the day. It was a cool morning with temps in the 60's so I was feeling great and ready to rumble from the moment we left the start venue. Once we hit the official start line on the northern edge of town just beyond I-40, our team leader and freakishly strong Peter Erdoes attacks, no doubt feeling good in the cool temps and wanting to get the show started. I don't think Peter was looking at soloing for 50 miles to the finish but the effort payed off and now the race was on and the attacks were coming. The harder the race the easier it is to get a selection of riders off the front. I wasn't warmed up yet but with a light tailwind, the fast tempo was pretty easy to handle. I spent the next 17 miles marking and chasing breaks until we finally had a good breakaway established with the guys we knew had a high chance of winning the State jerseys for the 40 and 50 age group categories. Myself and a few of the other OKC Velo Pirates patrolled the front of the main field and insured that if anyone wanted to chase the break down, they were going to have to tow us up the road without any help. The tactic worked to perfection and the break finally got a large enough gap that any would-be chasers were demoralized and mostly stopped their attacking.
The course eventually turned us back to the south heading in towards Shawnee and into a nice headwind with about 17 miles to go. Now that we had an established break, I thought I would reward myself with either a field sprint or a short breakaway towards the end. One of my teammates started attacking into the headwind and I joined him at about mile 35 but it was short lived and it was groupo compacto yet again. It wasn't for long though as attacks from other teams started going up the road with everyone now hoping to redeem their race by gaining some margin over the peloton in the finale. I followed every attack into the headwind and rolling hills and my legs were starting to feel the days efforts. If I was going to attack this group with 3 miles to go, as I had been planning, I was going to need to recover and drink a lot. I finished off my last bottle of Infinite with about 4 miles to go and then more attacks started going up the road. I chased them down in hopes of getting a gap and only having to sprint a few guys at the finish rather than the entire field. Nothing was getting away this late in the race and so it was apparent we were headed for a field sprint.
The course turned right (north) for the final two miles and we had a nice tailwind to aid us along and help keep the pace high. I had figured out which guy I was going to mark in the sprint... it was a small hispanic guy that hadn't seen the front of the group all morning so I figured he was fresh and, well, he just looked fast (you can see him in the background of the final sprint photo with the neon yellow helmet.) One of our guys went to the front with a mile to go and put some serious pressure on the pedals which kept the speed high enough no one was going to be able to get away. One guy did manage to get off the front of our group but we reeled him in quickly... at least I knew this guy was now toast and out of contention for the sprint so one less person to worry about with 200 meters to go. Now, for those of you who know me, I'm not much of a sprinter... it's just not what I do. However, when the finish of the race is long and fairly straight and I have a fast lead-up to the final 200 meters, I can occasionally throw down a decent effort. This course was perfect for me and I knew I had a good chance of winning from this group. Two miles of straight wide road with a tailwind and slight uphill finish, yep, I'm gonna give this one a go. So now that I've decided I'm going to win the sprint, it was just a matter of following the right wheels until 100 meters to go and pour on the gas for my final surge. However, with 250 meters left to race, I was in about 5th or 6th position when everyone started looking at each other to make final move. When this happens, the group starts slowing down and I was close to losing my advantage of having a fast lead-up. At 200 meters I decided I was going to have to lead this sprint out, which wasn't the smartest tactical move but if I could get a good gap then everyone would have to chase me down and then still have to get around me at the end. Which is almost exactly what happened when I jumped. I was in the perfect gear for the uphill grade and got a nice lead on almost everyone. What I didn't know was there was a guy from Tulsa that jumped at the same time but on the other side of the road. I thought I had a huge lead on everyone and didn't realize this guy was hot on my wheel until the final 50 meters and then it was a bike throw for the win. I managed to beat him by a few inches. Now that was fun!
The race could not have gone much better. OKC Velo won every category in the Masters event with John LaSorsa taking the 40+, Peter Erdoes 50+ and Gary Ziegler winning the 60+. We also filled many of the other podium spots so all in all, it was a very successful race and a great way to officially end the season. Now it's time to begin the off season training program in preparation for my first event in early March, Rouge Roubaix... 106 mile road race with about 30 miles of dirt/gravel roads and steep hills in Louisiana. No more pecan pie for me.
The race began with a 4 mile neutral roll-out through the town of Shawnee which was a little odd riding slow for so long at the beginning of a race. But, given the congestion on this side of town, it was the smart thing to do and provided a nice relaxing start to the day. It was a cool morning with temps in the 60's so I was feeling great and ready to rumble from the moment we left the start venue. Once we hit the official start line on the northern edge of town just beyond I-40, our team leader and freakishly strong Peter Erdoes attacks, no doubt feeling good in the cool temps and wanting to get the show started. I don't think Peter was looking at soloing for 50 miles to the finish but the effort payed off and now the race was on and the attacks were coming. The harder the race the easier it is to get a selection of riders off the front. I wasn't warmed up yet but with a light tailwind, the fast tempo was pretty easy to handle. I spent the next 17 miles marking and chasing breaks until we finally had a good breakaway established with the guys we knew had a high chance of winning the State jerseys for the 40 and 50 age group categories. Myself and a few of the other OKC Velo Pirates patrolled the front of the main field and insured that if anyone wanted to chase the break down, they were going to have to tow us up the road without any help. The tactic worked to perfection and the break finally got a large enough gap that any would-be chasers were demoralized and mostly stopped their attacking.
The course eventually turned us back to the south heading in towards Shawnee and into a nice headwind with about 17 miles to go. Now that we had an established break, I thought I would reward myself with either a field sprint or a short breakaway towards the end. One of my teammates started attacking into the headwind and I joined him at about mile 35 but it was short lived and it was groupo compacto yet again. It wasn't for long though as attacks from other teams started going up the road with everyone now hoping to redeem their race by gaining some margin over the peloton in the finale. I followed every attack into the headwind and rolling hills and my legs were starting to feel the days efforts. If I was going to attack this group with 3 miles to go, as I had been planning, I was going to need to recover and drink a lot. I finished off my last bottle of Infinite with about 4 miles to go and then more attacks started going up the road. I chased them down in hopes of getting a gap and only having to sprint a few guys at the finish rather than the entire field. Nothing was getting away this late in the race and so it was apparent we were headed for a field sprint.
The course turned right (north) for the final two miles and we had a nice tailwind to aid us along and help keep the pace high. I had figured out which guy I was going to mark in the sprint... it was a small hispanic guy that hadn't seen the front of the group all morning so I figured he was fresh and, well, he just looked fast (you can see him in the background of the final sprint photo with the neon yellow helmet.) One of our guys went to the front with a mile to go and put some serious pressure on the pedals which kept the speed high enough no one was going to be able to get away. One guy did manage to get off the front of our group but we reeled him in quickly... at least I knew this guy was now toast and out of contention for the sprint so one less person to worry about with 200 meters to go. Now, for those of you who know me, I'm not much of a sprinter... it's just not what I do. However, when the finish of the race is long and fairly straight and I have a fast lead-up to the final 200 meters, I can occasionally throw down a decent effort. This course was perfect for me and I knew I had a good chance of winning from this group. Two miles of straight wide road with a tailwind and slight uphill finish, yep, I'm gonna give this one a go. So now that I've decided I'm going to win the sprint, it was just a matter of following the right wheels until 100 meters to go and pour on the gas for my final surge. However, with 250 meters left to race, I was in about 5th or 6th position when everyone started looking at each other to make final move. When this happens, the group starts slowing down and I was close to losing my advantage of having a fast lead-up. At 200 meters I decided I was going to have to lead this sprint out, which wasn't the smartest tactical move but if I could get a good gap then everyone would have to chase me down and then still have to get around me at the end. Which is almost exactly what happened when I jumped. I was in the perfect gear for the uphill grade and got a nice lead on almost everyone. What I didn't know was there was a guy from Tulsa that jumped at the same time but on the other side of the road. I thought I had a huge lead on everyone and didn't realize this guy was hot on my wheel until the final 50 meters and then it was a bike throw for the win. I managed to beat him by a few inches. Now that was fun!
Final 50 meters... the guy from Tulsa on picture left.
Almost there
Just a few more strokes
Bike Throw!
That was close
Monday, September 19, 2011
Playing in the dirt
Spent the weekend trimming tree stands and getting the final touches completed at hunting camp before Arkansas' archery season opens in a couple of weeks. There's something about hunting, but even more so about the process of getting ready to hunt, that is very therapeutic... and therapy is something I needed this past week. Hard work in the outdoors and in preparation for something as time honored and part of human existence as hunting, has a way of clearing the cobwebs and cleansing the soul. Who would have thought that getting dirty and playing outside could do so much personal liberating? But then again, isn't that what we did as kids growing up? My friends and I were the kings of fort building and crawdad fishing when we were young (are your ears burningTony Pahls?). We built our forts in trees, on the ground, and even under ground once, until the land owner caught us and kicked us off his property. I guess it's no big stretch to figure out that hunting as an adult is just an extension of what we valued in childhood.
Camp/Fort is pretty much ready for the season now. All we need is cool weather and the sun to sink a little lower in the southern sky. Now it's time to shoot the bow and get the gear ready for the season. That won't be fun at all :)
I've had these Justin's for a while now but haven't been able to bring myself to wear them because they looked so new. They're finally coming around and almost worthy of wearing out in public.
Camp/Fort is pretty much ready for the season now. All we need is cool weather and the sun to sink a little lower in the southern sky. Now it's time to shoot the bow and get the gear ready for the season. That won't be fun at all :)
Thursday, September 15, 2011
I'm # 1
I studied interpersonal and organizational communication in college and one of the first things they taught us was every person, report, story or statistic is biased. I don't mean to burst any bubbles out there, but we all have accents, (yes, even you guys that live in the mid-west and California) and we're all biased to one degree or another.
For once though, I'd like to believe something without having to bring into question potential problems with the information at hand. In particular, I'd like to accept my most recent ranking as a #1 Cat 3 and Masters road racer without really having to put any thought or rationality into it and especially without delving into the details. I just want to celebrate this honor with a couple of cold ones and a great party thrown by all my family and friends. Its time to revel in the lime light of being the best, numero uno, the Dali Lama, #1! Yes, #1. Ok, so it's not that simple and you'll have to dig a little deeper into this blog to see what I'm talking about. However, my #1 ranking for Cat 3 road, criterium, time trial and stage racing within my zip code are dead on the money and you'll be hard pressed to create a valid argument otherwise. My zip code, 72207, a true bastion of cycling. I know this is absolutely true because Mike Mattox (aka Michele Zampone), Chuck Emmons, Brendan Quirk and Roger Mangham, among others, all live in other zip codes here in Little Rock. Hunter is a Cat 1 so he doesn't count (until you see the Masters rankings and you'll notice I've been demoted to #2 within the US Postal Service's area detail.) But that's ok, we can't always be the best and I'll take my pill when I have to. Just as long as I get credit for being the #1 Cat 3 in all road disciplines within zip code 72207.
So hell yes, I'll take my gold medal now Mr USA Cycling representative of zip code 72207. And a Stars and Stripes jersey would be nice too. I promise to only wear the jersey when I'm racing within the zip code, really, I promise.
Here are my actual complete rankings for all you Stats guys and gals out there. Oh, and if there was any doubt as to the depth of the Masters racing in this country, see below for just how competitive it really is.
2011 Ranking Report for J McCay
For once though, I'd like to believe something without having to bring into question potential problems with the information at hand. In particular, I'd like to accept my most recent ranking as a #1 Cat 3 and Masters road racer without really having to put any thought or rationality into it and especially without delving into the details. I just want to celebrate this honor with a couple of cold ones and a great party thrown by all my family and friends. Its time to revel in the lime light of being the best, numero uno, the Dali Lama, #1! Yes, #1. Ok, so it's not that simple and you'll have to dig a little deeper into this blog to see what I'm talking about. However, my #1 ranking for Cat 3 road, criterium, time trial and stage racing within my zip code are dead on the money and you'll be hard pressed to create a valid argument otherwise. My zip code, 72207, a true bastion of cycling. I know this is absolutely true because Mike Mattox (aka Michele Zampone), Chuck Emmons, Brendan Quirk and Roger Mangham, among others, all live in other zip codes here in Little Rock. Hunter is a Cat 1 so he doesn't count (until you see the Masters rankings and you'll notice I've been demoted to #2 within the US Postal Service's area detail.) But that's ok, we can't always be the best and I'll take my pill when I have to. Just as long as I get credit for being the #1 Cat 3 in all road disciplines within zip code 72207.
So hell yes, I'll take my gold medal now Mr USA Cycling representative of zip code 72207. And a Stars and Stripes jersey would be nice too. I promise to only wear the jersey when I'm racing within the zip code, really, I promise.
Here are my actual complete rankings for all you Stats guys and gals out there. Oh, and if there was any doubt as to the depth of the Masters racing in this country, see below for just how competitive it really is.
| YOUR CROSS COUNTRY MASTER STANDINGS | |
|---|---|
| 3 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 24 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 3 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 16 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 50 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 123 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR CRITERIUM CAT 3 STANDINGS | |
| 1 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 2 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 16 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 122 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 204 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 514 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR CRITERIUM MASTER STANDINGS | |
| 2 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 24 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 111 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 614 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 1219 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 2734 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR INDIVIDUAL TIME TRIAL CAT 3 STANDINGS | |
| 1 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 4 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 7 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 48 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 76 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 239 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR INDIVIDUAL TIME TRIAL MASTER STANDINGS | |
| 2 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 17 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 75 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 381 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 702 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 1822 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR ROAD RACE CAT 3 STANDINGS | |
| 1 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 16 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 15 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 107 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 306 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 1301 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR ROAD RACE MASTER STANDINGS | |
| 2 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 18 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 46 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 249 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 453 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 1113 | Overall Rank |
| YOUR STAGE RACE CAT 3 STANDINGS | |
| 1 | Rank in your zip code (72207) |
| 1 | Rank in your state (AR) |
| 6 | Rank in your riding age (48) |
| 24 | Rank in 5 year age range (45-49) |
| 38 | Rank in 10 year age range (40-49) |
| 85 | Overall Rank |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)