The weather gods have been smiling on my riding schedule lately with the rather unexpected result that I haven't missed a day in over four weeks. During that time I have logged three consecutive 300+ mile weeks and a total of 1,284 miles, without even leaving the city. What does that mean? Well, nothing really. A pretty large share of those miles would hardly be considered training unless simply sitting on the bike and moving your legs counts. The past couple of days have been pretty great since a cold front came through bringing lots of wind but much, much drier air. It's not the heat, it's the humidity.
Even so, it's pretty unusual to have such a long unbroken streak of rides that hasn't been interrupted by weather or other incursions. Perhaps the fact that I've been forced to ride earlier in the morning since the river levee bike path was torn up has something to do with it. Since we'll be heading up to Dahlonega this weekend for the annual pilgrimage to the Six Gap Century I will at least have a break on Saturday. It's about a 9-hour drive, so it's doubtful I'll get on the bike that day, which is probably a good thing. Last year I started that 104-mile ride with sore legs. This will the sixth year I've done the ride - well fifth if you don't count the year I fell halfway through an broke my collarbone. I'm going up with a bunch of Tulane riders in three rented minivans. Should be interesting. Some are doing just the 3-Gap ride, which will no doubt be quite challenging enough.
While I'm on the subject of history, it's been ten years since I started this blog, and although Facebook and other forms of electronic communication have definitely cut into posting frequency I've accumulated 1,930 posts since then. I often go back to review old posts and race reports in order to find information about a particular race, or which year it was when something happened. When you've been racing for forty-plus years the races and courses tend to blend together a bit, so it's nice to have a log to which to refer now and then.
So this year I'll be riding Six Gap on my old aluminum/carbon Orbea that I bought from Gina Voci back at the end of 2007 (yes, I had to look back in my blog to see when it had been). That bike has lots of battle scars from lots of races and lots and lots of miles but it's still going strong even if the rear shifter is so worn that it doesn't really "click" when shifting sometimes, and often hesitates to shift at all.
The Bianchi had to get shipped back to wherever the bike ship ships them in order to get its brake cable stops re-riveted back on. A few weeks ago my right shifter had gotten so gunked up from a summer of sweat and rain and dirt that the rear brake cable was hanging up. I replaced the rear section of housing which accomplished nothing, so I had to take it off and push out the brake lever pin to clean it up since that's what was causing the problem. In the process I discovered that one of the two tiny aluminum rivets on each of the top tube cable stops had broken. Making the repair without the appropriate tool small enough to get into the front part of the triangle on my 50cm frame would have been kind of sketchy, so the shop called the Bianchi folks who said to send it back. Anyway, I was certainly not going to risk having one of the brake cable stops let go halfway down one of the 50 mph descents at Six Gap. On the plus side, I still had my 12-27 10-speed cassette. On the minus side, I'd just bought an 11-speed 11-27 cassette. Meanwhile, I ordered a 44cm Cannondale Caad 10 women's edition for Danielle though Mike Lew who recently opened a new bike shop up in Hammond. Mike had fixed me up with my Campi Record Cervelo Prodigy way back in -- I don't know when since it was before my blog. Anyway, it won't arrive for a few weeks since it's one of the new ones, but it was a great deal and has a short enough head tube that I think we can do a reasonable job of fitting it to a 4'10" rider once we deal with the ridiculous headset top cap and track down a teeny tiny stem.
The last couple of weeks have been pretty routine riding, Lots of medium paced group rides, a few blazing fast Giro Rides, but no trips to the northshore or anything. The Tulane Cycling training center has been seeing more and more use lately, which is great, and yesterday I received some autographed jerseys from one of our main sponsors who is involved with Six-day racing in England. One of them is Jason Kenny's from the Rotterdam Six Day 2013. He is reigning Olympic sprint champion in both individual and team sprint. It's particularly interesting because he crashed in it so the back and collar are all ripped up and it is stained both with his blood and paint from the blue band. Very cool. It still smells of sweat. Others are from Chris Hoy, Bauke Mollema (Tour de France), and Gregory Baugé from Rotterdam Six Day 2013, when he was reigning world champion. He's the Frenchman who got silver in individual and team sprint at London 2012 Olympics. So we have the full podium from the sprint in London in 2012! Now we just need to get them framed!
Riding, racing, and living (if you can call this a life) in New Orleans. "Bike racing is art. Art is driven by passion, by emotions, by unknown thoughts. The blood that pumps through my veins is stirred by emotion. It's the same for every athlete. And that's why we do this." - Chris Carmichael
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Thursday, September 04, 2014
Transitioning - Last Local Road Race Weekend
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Thursday morning on the lake heading back east from the casino |
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Rain starting to fall in the Women's race |
With three laps to go I could see the break closing in on us from behind, but then there was a surge and on the next lap they gave us the bell. One rider attacked with me right on his wheel, but halfway through the lap he hesitated and two riders started coming around on the left. I latched onto the second wheel just moments before the sprint started and it was looking pretty good until I inexplicably drifted a little wide on the curve just before the finish line and lost just enough momentum that I couldn't get past one of them in time. That placed me 7th overall, 2nd in the 55+. Mark attacked the break early on the last lap and almost made it to the line, taking 2nd overall and 1st in the 55+.
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Final laps in the deluge |
So by Sunday the weather was looking a whole lot better. I picked up Brian B and we made the two-hour drive up to St. Francisville. Turnout for the age-graded road races was pretty good. Brian would be riding the 40+ race and I'd be in the 55+/60+ race. Our little 44 mile race had, somewhat surprisingly, 17 riders, I think. Mark had an outside chance of moving into the lead in the 55+ LCCS points standings, but it would only be possible if Stan somehow placed well below him in the race, which was pretty unlikely. In fact, Stan was well aware of the situation and as far as I could tell was not going to be giving Mark any rope. The race started out fast. There was a little bridge a mile or so from the start that had some of those lengthwise seams on it. The officials warned us about them at the start. Well, we're flying down the downhill toward that bridge at 35 mph with me about 4th or 5th wheel when one of the guys ahead of me rides straight into the crack, wobbles enough that I'm ready for a big crash, then luckily pops out. We cross the bridge and then I hear a crash behind me. I didn't need to look to know what had happened. That one resulted in a concussion and broken collarbone.
There wasn't any time to worry about the crash, however, because Mark was attacking pretty much every hill on the first of the two laps. That made for a pretty punchy first lap with an average speed of around 24 mph that included a number of really fast sections. Most of the field survived, but by the time we started the second lap it was clear that the surges had done some damage. I guess we were five miles or so into the second lap when Butch pushed it a bit going up one of the hills with me on his wheel. It wasn't an attack, really, and as we came over the top he pulled over and gave me the elbow. I didn't think there was any reason to pull through, assuming that the whole group was on my wheel, so I just followed his wheel. Then he looked back, looked over at me and said, "Randy, they're lettin' us go." I glanced back to find an inexplicably large gap and as I pulled through I said to Butch, "Why are they doing that?" Anyway, I figured this might put some pressure on the riders who had been sitting in while Mark had been attacking so the two of us started rotating at a moderate speed on the assumption we'd be pulled back within a mile or so. Well, a few miles later the gap was still holding steady and I was starting to wonder what was going on back there. As it turns out, Mike Lew had been attacking the field repeatedly. Finally, he broke free and a little while later I hear a wheel coming up from behind pretty fast. It was just Mike, and the rest of the field was still a good thirty seconds back. Butch and I had been about ready to pack it in, but when Mike rolled up going three mph faster he said, "Come on, boys!" so we latched on. Well, that was about the last we saw of the field. I learned later that Mark had cramped up pretty badly and dropped off the back. Meanwhile, the three of us were just doing this nice team time trial. Now, had I been feeling a little more aggressive I should have started attacking the hills over the final seven miles, but frankly I was having a hard time getting motivated about that. Unless we were caught, which was looking more and more unlikely, Mike would win the 40+ race and Butch and I would be sprinting it out for 1st and 2nd in the 60+ race. With three miles to go Butch started taking easier and easier pulls, and then, after Mike had taken his pull and swung off, Butch didn't come through. Mike looked over for a moment and then just went back to the front and pulled the last three miles of the race with Butch on his wheel and me on Butch's. When Butch jumped at the 200 meter mark I did too but then I went to shift to a bigger gear and it dropped all the way down to the 11. We weren't going nearly fast enough for an 11, but it was too late to do anything about it. My cadence dropped momentarily to about 70 and I stood on the pedals trying to get them going again, but the finish was coming up fast and I never got past Butch's handlebars before the line. A little later Brian sprinted out of the lead break in the 40+ race to take a well-deserved 3rd as Ed Novak eeked out the win amidst loud animal noises by about a thousanth of a second.
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