My Best Race Ever: Wente Road Race, Sunday, April 24, 2016

Fifth wheel, watching the leaders up Carrol Rd.
photo: Tali Herzka

Group

Master 55+, Cat 123

Result

8th of 32

Course

Four rolling to hilly 14.5 mile laps, each with 695 feet of elevation. Road surface is excellent except for two potholes. The finish is at the top of a rise on Greenville Rd. (changed from previous years where the finish was atop the grueling snort up Carrol Rd.).

Weather Conditions

Cool, 52-60 degrees, mostly cloudy, 10-15 mph wind, mostly from the west.

The Race

The first lap was conservative. At 5.5 miles we ascended Carrol Rd. for the first of four times. Since I’m still smarting from being dropped at the Copperopolis road race, by many of these same guys, I climbed with the front five riders, just to study them. There were no sincere efforts to get away here, since I assume everyone was curious to see what affect the 10-15 mph west wind would have on the remainder of the course.

Just after turning onto Greenville Rd., approaching the start/finish, to begin lap 2, I was tenth wheel, and I heard behind me shift gears, then saw Larry Nolan (Cat 1, Team Specialized Racing Masters) and Tim Davis (Cat 2, San Jose Bicycle Club) rocket off into the future. Tim is a great racer who can sprint and climb. Larry is a legend with more palmares than I’m smart enough to track down, but the pack knows that besides testing the pack, he was hoping to get into the Carrol Rd. climb with a bit of a head start. His legs are massive and powerful, but they must make ascents tough. We caught the pair at the top of Carrol Rd. Only one and a half laps in, our pack only numbered about 20 riders, and I was still comfortably there.

Descending Flynn Rd. I tended to stick farther back, not wanting to louse up anyone else’s line through “the horseshoe”, a tricky tightening left turn with a gnarly ditch on the outside. No real gaps opened up here, as there is a headwind through the remainder of the valley and it seemed an unattractive option to be in a tiny 2 or 3 man break with the peloton bearing down.

Climbing up Carrol and Flynn again for the third time, I began to lose contact at the top of Flynn. I started not to care, but remembered what that got me at Copperopolis. I decided to turn myself inside out as long as I could to regain contact, then hope for some form of recovery before the serious attacks begin. I had company in the form of Larry Nolan, a Thirsty Bear, and Harold Reimer (Cat 3, SunPower Racing). The lead group was 20 to 30 seconds up the road, but that distance was amplified by a strengthening headwind. All four of us seemed tired, but I knew when chasing, every second counts. I assumed neither Larry nor the TB rider would work to regain contact, because they each had teammates in the front group. I knew Harold was on his own like me in this field, but I was surprised to see him being dropped by the front group. I decided to take the chase on myself and not fret that I might give a free ride to these guys. If any of them wants to offer help, I’ll take it, but my goal is to regain contact with the front. I’ve had enough of being dropped this season. For two miles I pulled us to within striking distance of the front group. I was flailing though as we reached Tesla Rd. Larry pulled through at last and muttered “Nice work.” He pulled off immediately and let Harold pull through. Harold brought us the rest of the way in. Miraculously the front group eased the pace approaching the turn onto Greenville.

Coming through the start/finish, Larry went again! But he didn’t get as much of a gap. And by the final ascent of Carrol Rd. he was gapped significantly. I was feeling the fatigue again too, and while the pace up the steep part of Carrol was tolerable, speed picked up significantly in the front of the group once they saw that Larry wasn’t in contact (Larry was a huge sprinting threat). Brian McAndrews (Cat 2, Thirsty Bear p/b Akamai) was faltering like me, but gave me a wheel, saying “We can’t let Larry catch on!” We traded pulls until we regained the dwindling lead group, down to about a dozen riders now.

Over the Cross Rd. bump I lost contact about four more times. Once I lucked out when a rider accidentally came unclipped, sending everyone off their pace. Another time the group just sat up for no good reason. A third time the moto ref was deciding whether or not to include me in his monitoring of the group, idling along my left flank. I sheepishly waved him on, figuring I was done. Then I got another burst of energy and put in one more dig. This was my best chance so far to be present for a bunch sprint in a 123 race.

Reaching Tesla Rd., the gap back to Larry was at least 90 seconds. The leaders, sure he was out of contention at last, began cat and mouse games. This gave me precious recovery, interrupted by several really fast group surges as different riders attacked, then sat up.

We made the turn onto Greenville and the games continued. I was still in it! I opted to sit about 10th position and start shopping for good wheels to follow. When the sprint started, I chose one and when he fizzled, I came around, but didn’t gain any more positions. Crossing the line I counted 1 2 3 4 5 6 7, 8th. I couldn’t believe it. I was just glad to be in the lead group at the end, but I actually outsprinted some of these guys!

I was happy right then, but once I got home and called my dad, it sunk in that this was definitely my best an most significant race result ever. This wasn’t just due to the quality (ranking) of the field, it was transformational because I “hit the wall” many times during this one race, but kept powering through. Each time I recovered. I used to think that once those first cramps hit, or once those leaders float away on a climb, that a hard effort to chase back on would kill the chance of any other strong efforts later. But this time I had several moments where I thought my race was over, but I pushed through, and was able to recover.

Some Things I've Learned this Season

Attacks
I’m still no expert on identifying which ones are significant, but from my position in the pack, I’m seeing where they originate, and who originates them. I fight the urge to go with each one, but I did join at least one in this and my previous race. I won’t initiate any myself until I observe a few more, and it seems like the right situation comes along. Here are some observations I've accumulated so far...

1. WHO: As I try to figure out the dynamics of the pack in each race, I’m learning how to be more selective of the attacks that look “joinable.” I’m trying to be more conscious of who is going, and if they have teammates who will have a negative effect on a chase effort. While I’m currently more or less on my own until some more teammates upgrade, I have formed alliances with several riders (just as I did as an unattached racer in my 2014 season, and back in '84, '85, '86). These guys have been helpful and encouraging during my continuing transition to racing in higher categories, and if one of them is attacking, I go only if I can also separate from the group without pulling the peloton up to the attacker(s).
2. WHERE: Obviously course and weather conditions factor into where these attacks occur, but relative to the pack, a majority of the successful attacks have come from about 8th to 12th wheel, where riders near the front aren’t in earshot of the gear shift, and the attacker has chosen a path to shoot up the side, reaching a dramatically higher speed than the front of the peloton. I saw Larry Nolan launch three of these attacks in this race, and the power and speed he reaches are devastating. Unfortunately these were solo attacks (though in at least one he was joined by another rider who miraculously caught his wheel).
3. HOW: To get separation from a pack that includes multiple capable breakaway artists and chasers, the one common thing I’ve noticed is just how committed these attacks are. The power output isn’t just 100%, it’s 120%, and the successful separations appear to require at least 4 minutes of that level of effort.
4. WHEN: Who knows? I’ve noticed that if you’re Hans Gouwens (Cat 2, Thirsty Bear p/b Akamai), it’s anywhere, anytime, and at least ten times per race.

And Now, Some Data Parsing Geekery

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my main season goal doesn’t include podium spots. I’m focused on improving my USAC ranking. This won’t be of real interest to most, but each USAC racer has a ranking. Prior to this race, mine was 352.16, improved (lower numbers=better) from around 367.xx at the beginning of the season. There’s a fairly complex formula, and officials at every race have to determine, based on who shows up, what the “race quality” is. I’ll confuse you with my interpretation, but essentially, you eventually boost your ranking by finishing ahead of higher ranked racers.

A racer’s ranking is an average of their five best event ranking point results. My ranking points for this race, based on the rest of the field, was calculated at 242.58. This new best result, averages into my top-five results to something like 324.90, which moves me “up” the ladder quite a bit from 352.16. Eventually maybe I’ll get to be one of the guys who boosts the race quality number;-).

Turlock Lake Road Race, April 9, 2016

Threading my way (on far right) up the side to the line
photo: Katie Truong

Group

Master 55+ 1234

Result

15th of 39

Teammate

Dan Tkach

Conditions

Constant light rain, 5mph breeze, 65°

Course

22.4 mile loop, two laps for 45 miles. Good road surface. Mostly flat, but some rolling terrain, with a few out-of-the-saddle lumps to get over. A two kilometer 0.5% uphill to the finish. There were four or five stretches of deep water covering half of the road, but no real hazards.

The Race

While the light rain was constant, and there were many large pools of standing water across the road, the air was warm enough that I was really comfortable with my clothing choices, and really glad I didn’t wear a wind vest or leg warmers.

I’m still learning how to roll with this new field of more experienced racers, and this flat course attracts a lot of really big guys. My primary goal for this race was to just stay sheltered, ride smart, and finish well within the group. Not very lofty, but this season, due to a crash, a goof, and lack of fitness, I haven’t finished with the pack yet, in a road race. I really needed to build more experience, freelancing my way into and through the bunch sprint with these guys. Because it’s unlikely that I’ll stand on many podiums this season, my simple goal is to gradually improve my USAC ranking, by finishing ahead of higher-ranked racers.

For the first three quarters of lap 1, I was more than halfway to the back, just staying sheltered, and moving up one or two spots at each turn. I was expecting more attacks off the front, but everyone seemed pretty content to stay together, though there was a surge as several riders contested the county line sprint, but we regrouped and rolled along together. I didn’t know who the marked guys were, but Sierra Nevada/Reliable Racing had three guys, so maybe the pack was letting them drive the 23.7 mph average pace. This was also everyone’s first look at where the deep water was.

It had been two years since I’d raced this course, and at that time I blew my setup for the last two kilometers, having wasted energy on attacks in the rollers on Hawkins road. This time I wanted a clear view of the last turn, and the long gradual grind to the line. I moved up to fourth wheel and stayed there.

Beginning lap 2, before I could go back to shelter at about tenth wheel, I got roped into the pacemaking on the front. very soon I got yelled while working with the front going into lap two, and I’m not sure why. Two riders attacked and appeared to be starting a rotation. They had a 15-meter gap, and I was near enough so I joined them. The pack didn’t close it down. When I took my short turn, I peeled off but no one pulled through. The guy on my wheel immediately barked “You can’t pull through and then sit up!!!” I didn’t backtalk, I just stayed up front for another minute and put in some solid power, but by now the pack was on us, so I pulled aside and found a graceful moment to slide back into the group and lick my wounds. I’m still not quite sure what I did wrong, I could’ve sworn we were going, but I guess I’m just not ready to read the pack.

Rolling south on Los Cerritos road, I was still in the front five, too close to not go with another attack off the front, though it was quickly shut down. But this increased the pace, stretching the group, and there were some guys being dropped off the back.

Westbound, onto the straight, flat section of Keyes Rd., I didn’t see who attacked first, but soon Hal Rooney (Los Gatos Racing), Tracy Muegge (Sierra Nevada/Reliable Racing), Brian McAndrews (Thirsty Bear p/b Akamai) and Quentin Sims (Fig Mtn. Brew Racing) were off the front. By the right turn onto northbound Hawkins road, the gap was 35 seconds. Two of Muegge’s Sierra Nevada teammates were just sitting on the front of our group. There was no sign that anyone was going to chase, I suspect because few of the rest of us had any teammates in the race. I hadn’t seen my teammate Dan since the first lap.

I did see two different guys try to bridge alone, but they were sad, solo efforts that were aborted quickly. Our average speed along lumpy Hawkins road was already 25.8 mph, and even three guys working together would only sacrifice themselves on behalf of the pack.

The four up ahead maintained the 35 second gap through the turn onto Lake road. With three miles to go, the rest of us knew we would sprint for fifth place. It’s never a great feeling, but at least I still had a good chance to achieve my goal of a pack finish. And with many higher ranked riders around me, I had a good shot at sticking to my season goal.

The windup to the sprint was surprisingly civil, with only a little bit of bumping, but no wild swarming. We had both lanes to use, and I opted to work my way to the center of the road, to avoid being boxed in on the shoulder. I decided not to assert a great forward position, in favor of safety, so when the sprint began I was at about 20th wheel. I knew the uphill grind would cause many early guys to “go backwards”, and I was still feeling really fresh (staying sheltered, I rarely rode above zone 2 for the whole race). I ramped up the power, picking off six riders along the way, for 15th overall (11th in the bunch).

The Nifty Ten-Fifty

I have some important mid-season road races coming up in the next 2 months, and being a bit behind in endurance and power training, I opted today to skip a short circuit race in favor of the Nifty Ten-Fifty.

The name simplifies the goals of the ride: To climb ten thousand feet in fifty miles. Today’s official route is about 52 mi. for around 9700 feet of climbing. My 63 mile ride included a few wrong turns, resulting in a bit over 11-thousand feet of climbing. With a 180-mile week that included interval training and hill repeats, I had 19.5K of elevation.

Organizers offer .tcx and .gpx files you can install on your gps device to follow the complex route, through the rugged Berkeley and Oakland hills, on your own, but it’s best to stumble upon a group who are doing the ride and are more familiar with the twists and turns.

I parked a few miles between the start and finish so I could warm up before meeting up for the official start at 9:30 am.

The climbing segments are the main challenge, so there is friendly regrouping at the top, before rolling onward to the next hill.

I settled in with a nice group of a dozen or so, many of whom are on the UC Berkely race team. The overall pace for the day was pretty slow, but the camaraderie was invaluable as the consecutive climbs beat us up. Most of the climbing segments were in the 13% range, with pitches up to 20%.

I hoped to avoid spending an entire day with cycling-related antics by staying closer to home and avoiding the four to five hour round trip commute to the race I skipped, but that was not to be. I left home at 7:30am and got home at 5 pm. But the consecutive climbs will definitely go into the training bank, and help boost fitness for upcoming races.