12 April 2011
Twilight Criterium #2
Expert race
Placing: 12th (more or less)
With neither fatigue nor back issues from a full plate of weekend racing and the absence of Pistachio pros, I was hoping for good result on this Tuesday. Instead what I got was a good workout. And after that, a little something else.
The weather was in the 40s as we shivered at the start under the milky light of an approaching cold front. Red Peloton and Bobas had about six riders each in the 30 +/- strong field. Immediately two riders - a lanky young-looking Echelon rider and someone else who I can't identify -- riders I was paying no attention to -- jumped off to form a small break. We were a little jumpy in the field, but the break was kept to heel as we negotiated the first of several blustery laps.
As there was neither Boba nor Red Peloton representation in this move I stayed toward the front, but kept the pressure on. As it turns out, too much. Right after a turn at the front with the Boba Gianpaolo (of Riviera restaurant fame), Jonathan Lee (red peloton) and another rider shake the grip of the field and motor their way up the 12 seconds to the early move. It's the move that I rue not having a response for.
Immediately, several of the Red Peloton riders stop pulling and start sitting on, allowing the now four-strong group to gain time up the road. I admit riding this way in a bike race is part of bike racing, but on a Tuesday evening (training races), always strikes me as rather weak tea. Surprisingly, there was little effort from the Bobas which had good strength and depth. For my part, I was left to thrash about at the front of affairs, sacrificing myself for the sins of the peloton.
Later on in the race I drilled the top two corners hard and brought up with me a Team Swift junior, a little guy with some impressive speed. He offered not much in terms of draft as his waist was as big around as my right calf. We were well away but at this point the break (which was reduced at this point to 3), was probably not catchable. At the bottom of the course when the junior was leading, he seemed to have problems taking a clean line through the wide 180° turn and associated speedbumps, curb ramps and other "road furniture" so I made it a point to be sure to lead through this part on the next lap.
Next lap comes and at the bottom of the course I'm leading, finding my accustomed smoother line, and at the exit find no junior on my wheel; he just lost me. Whoops.
A quick check back and the peloton is in full flight, about to gobble the junior. I'm next up, as the uphill drag offers up an entire RDA of headwind in just one serving. It turns out those red peloton guys can really pull hard when I'm off the front!
Late in the race now and I again delaminate from the front, this time with The Great Dan Boyle, Red Peloton's up-and-coming road sprinter, the winner in the previous race this evening. Going through the S/F they ring a prime lap for us. The only problem is that I'm off the front with the best sprinter in the race. So I try to meter out my pull so Dan is stuck leading through the lower part of the course. And sure enough that's where he was when I pre-emptively attack him on the 180°, gap him, and hold it like that to the line, scoring a bottle of Cycles Gladiator pinot from under the nose of the better sprinter. First prime in a while for sure! Our break now blown, we flutter back to the clutches of the field.
Two to go, I decided to go for the workout instead of the sprint for 4th. Once more at the front and a solid lap full-gas. If I can't win the sprint I can at least spread the field out a bit.
So I rolled in with the group for 12th or thereabouts.
--
After the race, That workout plus the declining temps did a number on my glycogen storage. On the 13 mile ride home after the race, in the dark, on the bike path, I bonked, fully and utterly. Like a drug! Add to this my bike light catching barn owls and bats diving before me, the sweetness of fruit trees in bloom and grooving on a collection of my most favorite tunes on the iPod (where Stevie Wonder, David Bowie, Miles Davis and Cecilia Bartoli etc. all cohabit rather well), and the whole experience getting home was rather transcendent.
-Rick
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