Another Age Group

An easy group ride out to the Spillway on Friday after Thanksgiving

When I rode my very first bike race I was a 17 year-old Junior. My brother and I had ridden from home to City Park for one of the NOBC's Novice Races. These were 20-mile races around the Roosevelt Mall / Palm Drive loop that would still be an excellent place for a bike race if they would ever re-pave it. I didn't finish that race because of a piece of Oak branch that got lodged in my derailleur. After that there were many years of racing as a "Senior," which is what we used to call everyone from 18 to 34, at least until McDonald's started offering "Senior Discounts" to people over 50. The old guys were called "Veterans," or just "Vets" for short, and there weren't many of them back then. In 1980 a bunch of us drove non-stop to Bisbee, Arizona for "Senior" Nationals where we mostly got our butts kicked on the 6-mile road course that just went straight up and down a mountain.

Road trip to '84 M-Nats

The next thing I knew it was the summer 1984 and I was squeezed into a van with Candy and our new baby Danielle, and a box of diapers, and Jim Bergin and Stan Truxillo and I think a couple of others and we were on our way to North Carolina for one of the very first "Masters Nationals" where I'd be racing in the 30-34 (or maybe it was 30-39 then?) age group. They called us "pre-mature" Vets.  Pun intended. Candy raced the road race first while I watched the baby, then when she finished I handed Danielle to her, jumped on the bike already overheated, and did my race. Candy made the podium in her TT age group and I was 7th in the road race and Stan made the podium. There wasn't a criterium back then.

USCF Nats Awards '84

Pretty soon the Masters concept kind of solidified at the USCF. They changed how our racing ages were determined, they changed our license numbers, and fairly quickly moved to 5-year age groups and the requirement that one have a Cat. 1, 2 or 3 license for the larger mass-start age groups. By '88 I was back at M-Nats in Pensacola in the 35-39 age group. I think that was the year that Billy Richards won a couple of medals in the incredibly old age group of 60-64.  Next was Augusta, GA in '94 when I finally made the podium in the Criterium in, I think, the 40-44 age group. I might have made the podium in the road race as well but as I came over the big hill 300 meters before the sprint my chain jammed between the freewheel and frame and all I could do was coast across the line as half the field passed me up. Most frustrating finish ever.

In '97 and '98 I went to Tallahassee for M-Nats, by then racing in the 45-49 age group. That was my last trip to Nationals. 3rd in the Crit. Every year since then I just sigh when I renew my license and see my new racing age. With a birthday at the end of November, my racing age is always kind of a year ahead of me. That pill seems to get more bitter every year. Well, despite my best efforts, I had another birthday last week, which means my next racing age will be 65 even though I don't feel more than two days older than 64 at the moment. Racing in an older masters age group race makes me feel very conflicted. On the one hand, the field is usually smaller and somewhat safer, the distances shorter, the speeds slower, and the chance of placing higher, if only due to the basic statistics of random chance. On the other hand, there isn't really a whole lot of fame and glory to be had by beating out five or six other old beat-up guys who get fat in the winter. In a way, I prefer racing in the larger open-ended age groups like 40+ where, even though I might get hammered by the fitter younger masters who are sometimes young enough to be my children, and even though it is entirely possible I'll be dropped like a rock at some point and be left to limp back to the finish line in quiet reflective solitude, at least I might have a chance to really feel like I'm in the mix for a while, however brief it might be.

Nice rotating paceline down Chef Highway for the Giro

Anyway, aside from getting a year older, the long Thanksgiving weekend was pretty nice. A cold front had come through, so mornings were chilly, but I got in a fair amount of riding, even if most of it was in easy mode. On Thanksgiving morning we had a holiday Giro Ride that was pretty nice. Then on Friday I did an NOBC ride out to the Spillway. That one was an intentionally controlled pace but by the next morning I could feel my legs a bit anyway. Saturday and Sunday were back-to-back Giro Rides. After four days of longish rides a lot of the local riders were feeling a little tired by Sunday and I guess that's what kept things so civilized for that ride. I ended the week with 330 miles thanks to the extra two days of longer rides. Next week I guess I'll miss riding both Saturday and Sunday in order to officiate cyclocross up in Jackson MS, so it all kind of balances out in the end, I guess.

Cold Nose and Long Tights

Riding home from the WeMoRi on the new Marconi bike path

Last week was great riding weather until it wasn't any more, which was basically Sunday, which was also a day on which I didn't actually ride. I'd been scheduled to officiate the Cyclocross race up in Hattiesburg on Sunday, having successfully managed to avoid having to also officiate the one in Jackson the day before. I should mention that I don't actually like officiating. In fact, I would be a little concerned about most people who do, and even more concerned about people who would chose to do that instead of ride or race or otherwise be on a bike instead of the side of the road. Why I continue to do this is no doubt tangled up in some sort of complicated and deep-rooted existential need with a topping self-destructiveness. I'm sure that if I'd spent as much time over the past forty-five years working on ways to move other people's money into my own bank account (aka "being a businessman") I'd have accumulated enough to fund my own pro team, which of course I never would since that would basically be the opposite of "being a businessman."

But I digress.....

So for most of October and November I've been taking it kind of easy on the bike, putting in miles and miles at the back, looking at the scenery, and dreading the inevitable day when I would have to pull on those long tights and accept the reality that winter is imminent. Despite having spent much of yesterday under a tent wearing four layers of clothes while shivering and totally failing to do anything useful with CrossMgr, I was at least not wearing tights.

Liked the reference to Dune

This morning's temperature in the high 40s made it almost impossible to pretend it wasn't winter. I say "almost," because I did refuse to put the skullcap under my helmet or pull out the winter riding jacket that most people would reserve for temperatures in the 20s and to which I run when temperatures dip below the mid-40s. Still, I broke down and put on the new Specialized slightly thermal tights on top of my shorts, added a base layer under my long-sleeve jersey, and headed out into the northeast wind for an easy Monday morning ride (as if I needed to recover from something). The wind didn't seem quite as bad as I'd expected and I was nice and warm, in a slightly over-dressed way, except for the steady stream of body fluids coming from both my eyes and nose -- mostly the latter.

I stopped at Zotz for coffee on the way home, which I have been doing a lot recently since Danielle is in Olympia and making coffee at home for just myself often doesn't seem worth the effort. It's now almost 1:30 pm and my hands have been cold all day at the office. Perhaps it's just because I took the car to work because of some family dinner logistical complications this evening. It's gotten a lot more busy on our floor here at 1555 Poydras lately as a while batch of folks have moved into the formerly vacant offices. Should make things a little more lively around here.

V2V - Rollin' on da River

At the New Orleans end of the ride. 

The annual 110 mi. Varsity to Varsity ride was yesterday. This ride, now in its 8th year, started as an LSU Cycling ride and in recent years has included a number of Tulane Cycling riders. The route mostly follows the Mississippi River from Varsity Sports in Baton Rouge to Varsity Sports in New Orleans, which is flat and marginally scenic. For some it's the first century ride, so while the moderate pace and planned stops make it relatively easy for the more experienced riders, it can be a challenge for the uninitiated. Fortunately, it ends with pizza.

Following Steve up the river

Saturday evening, after riding the Giro and attending Judd's 50th birthday party at the Ama airport, and then dropping Danielle off at MSY for her flight back to Washington, I finally broke down and put the new tires on the Bianchi that have been sitting on my workbench for months. I stuck a second large water bottle on the bike, moved my daytime-visible tail light from my commuter to the Bianchi, filled a little flask with HammerGel, and hit the sack a little early. I was scheduled to drive three of the Tulane riders and their bikes up to Baton Rouge at 5:15 am for their 7:30 am start. As I did last year, I planned on driving back to New Orleans, hopping on the bike, and riding upriver until I met the group. I had recruited Steve Johnson to meet me along the way to keep me company and keep me from going too slowly. The weather was pretty nice with temperatures in the upper 60s and lower 70s, but I knew the strong ENE wind was going to make it tough, and slow, for the return trip down the river.

I left Baton Rouge about half an hour before they started their ride, so I got home in plenty of time to grab a quick bite, change, and hit the road. I was probably a good twenty minutes ahead of schedule and once I got onto the levee bike path and picked up a pretty significant tail wind, I started wondering just how far I'd get this year before running into the group. I'd be cruising downwind while they'd be struggling upwind. Last year I ended up with a bit over 90 miles, so this year there was the distinct possibility that I'd end up with about the same number of miles as if I'd started with the group. I was most of the way to Ormond when I met Steve, who of course was surprised to run into me so early. He turned around and we rode side by side out to the Spillway. On the upriver side of the Spillway you have to ride about three miles on River Road before you can pick up a 7-mile section of bike path. Once off the bike path you're back on River Road with the traffic, which wasn't too bad. The whole time we'd been riding at 22-25 mph pretty easily, thanks to the tailwind. Once back on River Road we were basically in 2-man Time Trial mode, so the pace would ramp up into the upper 20s depending on the extent of the tailwind component as we followed the winding river. At one point we were going pretty fast with me at the front when I saw a small but deep pothole at the last minute. I called it out and pointed and Steve had a moment to try and hop it but whacked it pretty hard anyway. It was hard enough to break his clip-on saddle bag mount, but luckily he didn't go down or pinch-flat. Anyway, we were all the way to the little town of Hester, well upriver of Luling, when we came across the group stopped at one of their planned rest stops (the one with all of the beagles), so that worked out pretty well. I had 52 miles on the computer at that point, which was only a couple of miles less than those in the group, so we'd met them almost half-way.

Made it pretty far upriver this year

Now we were riding into the wind and the pace was at times literally half of what it had been when Steve and I had been on our way out. Pretty soon I stationed myself at the back where I could keep track of anyone who might be starting to struggle and also where I could take some photos. It always seems harder, or perhaps just less comfortable, to be going 15-20 mph than it does to be pushing a bit harder.

Pizza!

There was one more long rest stop at the "Norco Area" fire station, a mile or two upriver of the Spillway, before the final 30 miles or so into New Orleans. I think Jaden spent the entire time on the front towing the group along at a nice steady pace. Back at the tail end I could see that a couple of the riders were starting to struggle, but by then we were only ten or fifteen miles from the end and they were able to gut it out to finish with the group. I ended up with 112 miles, which was essentially the same as the riders who had left from Baton Rouge. This morning I could definitely feel the miles, so I went out for an easy 20 mile recovery ride on the levee and a stop at Zotz for coffee.

No Ride, My Choice

Yeah, I know. It's all relative.

I woke up early this morning, a bit after 5:00, and listened for a moment for the sound of car tires on the streets outside the window. I knew without looking that the streets were wet, but I looked anyway. Picking up the cellphone on the nightstand I pulled up the weather radar which just confirmed what I already knew. The line of very light rain ahead of the next cold front was almost past us on its way east. Outside, it looked cold and windy. In reality it was little of the former and more of the latter, but I could have easily gone out on the rain bike to slog out twenty or thirty miles on the levee. I chose instead to take a day off the bike. It had been fifteen days since my last day off and this particular chilly, damp morning seemed like a good time to cash in whatever virtual chips I'd accumulated. Tomorrow I'll be back on the bike as usual, a bit over-dressed to ease myself into what will likely be a couple of slightly chilly mornings.

Over the years I've learned a few things about myself and the month of November. As much of a psychological struggle it may be for me to get out the door when it's cold and windy, it's always worth it. In another month, providing I get out there and ride every day, I'll be acclimated and it will all be better. For the morning rides I'll add an extra layer, or two, so I'm warm and comfortable at the start. That's not how everyone does it, of course. Lots of riders dress for how they will feel ten miles into the ride rather than how they will feel as they step out the door. Totally understandable. For me, I know that if I did that all I'd remember the next morning would be how freaking cold I was at the start, not how hot I was at the end. Anyway, it's not even winter yet, at least not around here. I doubt I'll see a temperature below 50 on the bike until December. But it's all relative, isn't it?

At lunch time today I walked the three blocks over the the Med School cafeteria with the wind whipping through the buildings so I could have a slightly warm vegetable plate. There's a cafeteria right here in my building, but when I went down there around 1 pm there was absolutely nothing there that looked even remotely appetizing, which is saying a lot because my standards for lunch are extremely low to begin with.

At the moment I'm kind of dreading the ride from work back home. In just half an hour or so the sun, which has spent most of today behind the clouds anyway, will be down and although the temperature will be just barely below 60F, I know it will feel colder than that and I'll wish I'd brought more than a light wind vest with me this morning.

Sun and Fog

Saturday Giro heading over the Seabrook bridge in the fog.

Finally on Sunday we switched back to standard time, which meant it was only a little dark as I rode out to meet the Giro group at Starbucks. The prior day's Giro had been fairly foggy, but still quite fast, and by Sunday I was starting to feel the effects. I guess we'll be dealing with morning fog off-and-on for the next month or so depending on the wind direction and speed. This time of year, if the temperature is warm like it's been, and the wind is fairly calm, fog forms over the river and lake and basically anywhere there's water, which is to say most of New Orleans. So despite the time change that put the Giro start just about ten minutes before actual sunrise, I left the lights on the bike since riding in a fog is probably more risky than riding in the dark when it comes to distracted speeding car drivers. The Saturday Giro seemed pretty fast. A bunch of the Tulane riders were there, so I think there was a fair amount of competition going on up near the front. I was content to sit in the group and just make some brief but intense efforts for a few of the sprints.

At the game.

For a change, I hadn't had any major complications that impacted my morning riding routine, so going into the weekend it was looking like I'd easily hit my normal 250-275 miles for the week. Following Saturday's Giro we walked over to Tulane to watch the homecoming football game. I'd spend much of Friday at the LBC on the uptown campus handing out name-tags to alumni and families. Homecoming seems to be more of a big deal than it used to be, and although the football stadium was a long way from being sold out, I was glad to see a solid turnout in the student section at the South end. The game itself was pretty good I guess, as football games go, and the home team put on a decent show even though they lost by one point after blowing a field goal in the final couple of minutes and having had a touchdown called back earlier because of a holding penalty. Going to football games doesn't do anything good for my nutritional plan, of course. Dinner was basically a warm beer, french fries, and peanuts.

TUCA Sunday Social - such nice weather!

So Sunday night I set my wristwatch back one hour and remembered not to set anything else back since most of the other clocks do that automatically nowadays. By the time I got out to Starbucks, around 6:30 am, it was already fairly light, which was nice. There wasn't too much in the way of fog like there had been on Saturday, although it was still around here and there. The ride itself was a bit more civilized than Saturday's, although it did have its moments. About half-way through I decided I'd try and also make the Tulane Cycling Sunday Social starting at 10:30. Arriving back home around 9:45 or so, I had lots of time to refuel before heading over to campus. There I found a nice group of six or seven. By then the weather was getting a bit warm but it was otherwise nearly perfect for riding. The ride kind of meandered its way out to the lakefront by which time one of the new guys was starting to lag behind. The plan, such as it was, had us heading over to Rouler on the way back, but when we got to Esplanade a couple of riders split off to head back early. Of course they were already off the back before we turned onto Esplanade, so we ended up waiting for a while before figuring out that they weren't coming. I was kind of dreading having to ride through downtown, myself, but figured I'd tag along anyway. After stopping at about a zillion stop lights we finally made our way to Rouler, but by then a few more needed to get back, so I didn't even go inside and instead rode back uptown with two of the riders.

Things are starting to drop off. Situation normal.....

So I ended the week with over 300 miles, most of which wasn't anything to write home about. I've been kind of tracking my imaginary fitness this year with the Stravistix Google plug-in for Strava, and it makes it really obvious how the general level of ride intensity has been dropping off now that we are into "No Pain NoVember." As it should be, I guess.

Tuesday morning on the levee. There's a group up there.

Next weekend is the annual Varsity to Varsity ride from Baton Rouge to New Orleans, and I guess I'll probably end up driving riders up to Baton Rouge, driving back, jumping on the bike, and riding upriver until I meet the group. I think I ended up getting around 90 miles doing that last year, so it still makes for a long day. Then the following weekend there are a couple of cyclocross races in Mississippi for which I will probably help officiate.

Tuesday morning's ride on the river was really foggy the entire way. We weren't going very hard, but by the time I got home I was soaking wet from the fog. I'd had to take my glasses off as soon as I got to the levee. That Mississippi River water is still ice cold!