Monday, April 25, 2016

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;-).

3 comments:

  1. That's a racer: someone who can dig deeper and deeper, never give up, and find something in himself that he wasn't sure was there. I remember suffering like a dog during my first cyclocross race, then thinking, "But you've done long time trials, and this is only 30 minutes." At that point things got easier, because I knew I could sustain the effort no matter how much it hurt.

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  2. Congrats and nice report. Riveting recount of the action and awareness of all the racers, strength and weaknesses. Like the observation that 120% for 4 mins, repeated is read to break away. Ouch.

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  3. Thanks Steve and Dave. I'll get back to you on that "120%" figure once I take the plunge;-).

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