Warm Weekdays

Finally we have arrived at that time of year when I don't even think about looking at the thermometer in the morning.  Down in the basement, next to my race travel bag, is a little pile of arm-warmers, shoe-covers, long-finger gloves and other items of winter wardrobe that I haven't needed in a month.  I guess it's safe to throw them all into the washer for a final cleaning before stashing them in some obscure location around the house that will make me late for the first chilly ride of the Fall season.  The only rain that's been in the area were some scattered thunderstorms yesterday afternoon that somehow missed most of uptown but dumped a lot of rain elsewhere, most notably Lakeshore Drive where the Wednesday evening training race is held.  I stood at the office window around 4 pm, looking at the heavy black clouds to the north, and wondered if I'd have to miss another training race. The radar looked promising, though, and by 5:30 I was doing battle on Carrollton Avenue, heading for the lake.  The streets were mostly dry, but there were a few places on Lakeshore Drive that were full of standing water.  The street storm drain system out there is pretty much completely broken, so water collects in the low spots and sits there until it eventually dissipates through the combination of gravity and vapor pressure. 

I arrived at the Elysian Fields traffic circle just in time to loop around and catch the end of the group.  The start and finish of the WNW changes kind of randomly from week to week, and this week it was the westbound levee crossing nearest Bayou St. John.  On the plus side, I had actually arrived before the race started.  On the down side, there was some street flooding in the Elysian Fields traffic circle and in a few spots between Franklin Avenue and the Seabrook loop.  Each lap we'd try to avoid the water, but invariably a few at the back would get forced right through it, myself included.  The race itself was reasonably fast, but never got entirely out of hand.  I think some credit to that has to go to the fact that there was very little wind, making it a lot easier to sit on and recover, or to close the little gaps that would open up every time there was an attack.  And there were a lot of attacks.  The three Herring riders who were there seemed to be taking turns attacking.  Each time one of them would get a gap, I would start looking for the others because I knew one of them was eventually going to try to bridge up. Even when I was fully expecting it, each of those attacks required huge efforts just to stay in contact.  On one of them I had been expecting Woody to attack, so had caught his wheel immediately when he did.  He yanked me up to 30 mph or so and then glanced back.  When he saw me on his wheel I immediately backed off, so rather than let Tim and whoever else was with him ride away from us, I had to put my head down and close it the rest of the way. So despite lots of attacks and surges, everything was still together for the last 6-mile lap (we do four of them).  I was thinking it would be a good day to contest the sprint, so I was right up there near the front when Kenny attacked about a mile and a half before the end. I responded immediately and caught his wheel as a little gap opened.  I knew there was no way he would be able to hold it all the way to the finish, and I also knew there was no way I would be able to hold off the group once he was done, but since it was a training race I figured I'd go with it and see how far I could get.  So we come into the traffic circle at Elysian Fields going about 28 mph just as a car is coming into the circle from the left.  The car gets there first, but we're going a lot faster than it is and I'm wondering what we're going to do when Kenny goes left of the car.  There was maybe two feet of clearance between the car and curb on the inside of the traffic circle, and there was no way of knowing if the car was going to continue around the circle and cut us off or turn onto Lakeshore Drive. My survival instinct kicked in and I backed off, turning sharply to the right to pass the car on the other side.  A moment later the pack came streaming by and by the time I got back up to speed I was practically at the back.  Oh well.  The sprint started early, as it always does for this finish line location, and then two riders in front of me both sat up at the same time.  I hate it when people sit up in the middle of a sprint!  So that was that. 

Having done the levee training ride that morning, I was pretty tired by the time I limped back uptown, and was falling asleep by 9:30.  The NOBC work still on my plate for the Tour de La would have to wait at least another day.  At least I had already wrapped up the post-event results work for the Racing Rapides race - website updated, results uploaded to USAC, LCCS rankings updated.  The new LCCS scoring will make for an interesting year.  Some people will hate it, some will like it, some won't even notice.  At any rate, this was the first event for which I had to go through and drop points for riders who, in this case, had scored points in more than one stage race.  Only one stage race, the one in which he scores the most points, counts toward a rider's LCCS total.  The same will kick in after five road races, five time trials, etc.  It's kind of a pain to do.

I made it out for the long levee ride this morning already feeling pretty dragged out.  Fortunately it wasn't a particularly fast one except for a few sections.  I'm thinking I need to take it easy tomorrow morning.  There's a road race up in St. Francisville on Sunday that I plan to do, but I'll probably ride the Giro on Saturday anyway so I'm not really expecting to be at my best for this particular race.

Racing Rapides Report

Finish climb - the white flag is the 200-Meter mark.

I've always liked the Racing Rapides race.  It's usually well organized, has good challenging courses, and doesn't require a cross-country road trip.  This year I rode up with Keith A., leaving on Friday evening after work. This year's race featured new road and time trial courses, and although getting there required a 40 minute drive from Alexandria, it was well worth it.  Our masters road race was a single 63-mile loop with around 2,000 feet of climbing.

The road race started out at a pretty easy pace and within ten miles I knew we'd eventually get caught by the much larger Cat. 4 race that was starting a mere 5 minutes behind us.  I'd already decided to use this race to get in some good training and in the first half of the race found myself off the front in a small break of four or five riders.  It seemed that a lot of riders were being cautious, perhaps in anticipation of the somewhat more hilly final fifteen miles.  Anyway, that break didn't last too long, but a few miles later Mitch rolled off the front.  Since we were both registered in the 55+ race, which was combined with the 40+ race, I thought they might let us go, so I bridged up to him and we started working together pretty well.  I guess we were out there for fifteen miles or so.  I don't think we ever got more than 1:30 on the group, but for a while I was thinking we might actually get away with it.  I told Mitch that if we could just keep our average in the 23-24 mph range, we would probably be able to build up enough of a cushion to make it to the finish line.  Since neither of us were likely to be posting any spectacular time trial times that afternoon, it would be great if we could pick up 30 seconds or so on the rest of the field.  Unfortunately, Mitch started to struggle on the climbs.  At one point I went up a long climb at what I thought was a nice steady speed, only to look back and see Mitch way, way behind me.  I sat up and soft-pedaled, but soon the lead moto for the Cat. 4s came up to warn me that they were about to overtake us. The masters field was right behind them, so that was that.  There was one particularly long climb about eight miles from the finish, and although I was fully expecting an attack there, all those miles in the wind had taken a bit of a toll on my legs and I couldn't quite stick with the lead group of five when the attack came.  Halfway up the hill, as the gap was starting to open, I looked over at Mark and yelled, "Go!"  I knew this break was not going to come back.  Mark made it up to the break, but a mile later I saw him coming back.  He'd gotten gapped off on the next climb.  We ended up in the relatively small second group, coming up to the base of the final climb to the finish a good two minutes behind the break.  For some reason someone jumped at the bottom of the climb, which was probably 800 meters before the finish, so we all had to go.  Halfway up I saw Mark suddenly stop pedaling and though he'd dropped his chain.  As it turned out he'd actually broken it and ended up walking across the finish line four minutes later.  I ended up finishing the road race first in the 55+ age group, but was still a little disappointed about missing that break.

We hung around the cars for a few hours, waiting for the 3 pm start of the 3-mile time trial which started at the finish line and went 3 miles in the opposite direction. That meant that it started out with a long fast downhill, followed by a long uphill and then another pretty good climb before the finish.  That kind of time trial is actually relatively good for me since it tends to require a little more than simple raw speed, which in my case is usually in short supply.  I ended up doing a 7:30 which, despite being a full minute slower than some of the day's fastest times, still landed me only two seconds out of first place on GC in the geriatric category.  That evening a few of us got together for dinner at a Japanese steak house, which was pretty good.

The Sunday morning criterium is on one of my favorite courses.  It's one of those nice inner-city courses with lots of turns, a few potholes and manhole covers, and a little bit of faux-pavé.  As expected, the race was a bit defensive, but once again Mitch took an early flyer off the front.  Since he was in the 55+ race with me, most of the 40+ riders weren't too interested in chasing him down, so after a lap I went to the front and started closing the gap.  My teammate Keith then came through to close the deal.  There was a hot spot time bonus for the 55+ riders at the half-way point and I needed to go for it in order to have any chance of moving up on GC.  Mark had told me earlier that he'd give me a leadout.  Halfway through the bell lap for the hot spot Mitch came up and took a long fast pull with me on his wheel, then Mark picked me up and pulled me nearly all the way to the finish line, so I got the bonus pretty easily thanks to good teamwork. 

With maybe five laps to go one of the 40+ riders attacked and got away solo.  I guess he was fairly far down on GC so the lead riders didn't really go after him.  Even so, I was surprised that the others would just let him ride away like that. He ended up staying away all the way to the finish.  On the last lap Keith went to the front to keep things fast and the sprint for second was fairly uneventful as I followed wheels most of the way to the finish.  I guess I was around 6th or so overall, but since I was the first 55+ rider that moved me into 1st on GC.  I was really nice to have a couple of teammates looking out for me in the criterium!  Overall, the club had some decent results with ten riders scattered across the various classes and categories.

Middle Louisiana

So I'm getting ready to head up to Alexandria for the annual Racing Rapides stage race.  It's looking like it will be a pretty hot weekend, but at least rain seems unlikely.  I wish I could say I feel ready, but then again, I rarely feel truly "ready" for a race -- a result, of couse, of my entirely unfocused training pattern.  It seems like it was a really long week.  I skipped out on the Tuesday afternoon time trial and instead set my sights on the Wednesday Night training race at the Lakefront.  Ben was looking for someone with whom to ride out with, so I ended up leaving relatively early and would have arrived with time to spare except for the nail I picked up in my rear tire on Carrollton Avenue as we were jockeying for position among the motorized public. I changed the flat as quickly as I could, pumped in maybe 50 psi and we took off for the lakefront again.  When I got there I decided to stop and put a little more air in the tire, which unfortunately resulted in me missing the "start," such as it is.  They were shooting a big movie near the western end of our course, and all of the trucks, trailers and electrical cables running across the road caused the group to create an ad hoc course on Lakeshore Drive and Elysian Fields, which of course I didn't know.  Anyway I eventually got myself into the race which turned out to be only moderate by training race standards.  So I worked the return leg of the Thursday morning levee ride a little harder than usual to compensate .... as if.  Preparation for this weekend consisted of throwing a bunch of clothes into my bag last night and checking to make sure my race wheel tires were still holding air.  Situation normal.  I'll be driving up with Keith A. some time around 5 pm, which means arriving probably around 8:30 or so.

Unpredictability

It was an unpredictable week.  The forecasters tried, of course, and even got some of it right, but it was a twitchy week for weather, not to mention pretty much everything else.  Wednesday was a good example.  I'd been looking forward to the Wednesday evening training race.  The Wife was scheduled to arrive back from a conference around 4:30, which would give me just enough time to pick her up from the airport, get back home, and ride out to the lakefront for the 6 pm Wednesday Night Worlds.  Well, wouldn't you know it? Two delayed flights later, I was coming back from the airport around 5:30 with no realistic hope of making the ride. To make matters worse, she'd twisted her knee trying to climb into the middle seat of the plane and probably tore her ACL (MRI should be scheduled soon).  By Friday morning the weather forecast for Saturday was absolutely dismal.  They rescheduled the Tour de Lis ride early Friday because the chance of severe thunderstorms was so high.  I was going to have to play it by ear as far as the Saturday Giro Ride was concerned.  Since we were scheduled for a club meeting afterward, I was planning to take the car out to the starting location anyway.

So Saturday morning I got up early and checked the radar.  All of the bad weather was at least three hours away.  We ended up getting in the whole Giro Ride without a drop of rain, arriving back at the Starbucks about fifteen minutes before the raindrops started falling.  Even so, it was brief and not nearly the deluge that had been predicted.  Of course, it eventually started raining more steadily, but not until the afternoon.  Anyway, I'd been feeling pretty good during the ride and about a mile before the Goodyear Sign sprint found myself about halfway down the pack when Mark M. tapped me on the back and motioned for me to follow.  He towed me all the way up to the front and dropped me off about 200 meters before the sign.  I felt so easy I was probably grinning the entire time even though we maxed out at something in the 36 mph vicinity.

Sunday morning it was cooler and drier (and Mother's Day) and I headed out early for yet another Giro.  I'd been riding around with my camera in my pocket all week without taking a single picture, so I pulled it out and tried to see what I could get as I rode through City Park on Harrison Avenue.  The group that finally came together as we rolled out down Lakeshore Drive didn't seem any smaller than usual and in a repeat of the day before, someone flatted even before we got to the bridges.  There was a bit of wind, but the direction was fairly cooperative and I found myself content to settle in around mid-pack with plans to save my energy for the second half of the ride.  As usual, the sprint for the Venetian Isles turnaround started way, way too early, but I put in a good effort anyway, turning around with a few others at the usual spot.  Most of the rest of the ride had turned around a good half mile earlier, so we were trying to catch up to the group when I saw John Dias stopped on the side of the road.  I asked him if he was OK and he said he was, so I continued on.  It looked like he was just checking something on his bike, but after we caught up with the group I looked back and he was still not back on the bike.  The group ended up stopping to wait as I rode back to see what the problem was.  He'd had a slow leak and decided to go ahead and put in a new tube.  Mark and I tried the same thing for the Goodyear sprint that we'd done the day before, but got separated pretty quickly, so I ended up on Mike W's wheel as we ramped it up to about 38 mph.  It felt pretty easy.  There's nothing like sitting in the group for most of the ride and then sprinting to make you feel stronger than you actually are!  I ended up sprinting hard up both of the bridges to finish off a pretty good Giro.

Pack Fodder

It was a busy week and a busier weekend, and I guess that accounts for the fact that I carried my camera around in my jersey for each ride but never really managed to take any photos.  The Daughter flew in late Friday night with plans to hit the Jazz Fest on Saturday.  Fortunately, they don't start things at the Fairgrounds until 11 am, which works out perfectly for those of us riding the Giro. So I rode out to meet the group early Saturday with a nice little tailwind of thick warm muggy air.  It was going to be a hot one, despite the scattered clouds and slight chance of rain.  The Wife is out of town for a meeting, so by the time I'd walked the dogs I was running a little later than I like.  That little bit of extra urgency pushed my pace up a bit as I rode up Carrollton and Wisner and then across the park on Harrison. By the time I got to Starbucks, hot coffee was already out of the question and I went instead for the iced version.  Another sure sign of summer. 

The Saturday Giro was fast.  For most of the ride the average speed worked out to 24.2 mph, including the usual recovery/regrouping stretches.  From the time the pace picked up on Hayne Blvd. to the sprint at the turnaround, our average speed was 27.3 mph.  Fortunately things were a little more controlled on the way back.  I made some good efforts here and there, and arrived back at home with just enough time to get ready for the short ride to the Fairgrounds. As usual, people we were meeting were running late (they took a cab!), but once we locked our bikes up in the big bicycle corral they set up, we picked some snoballs and headed over to the Blues tent.  I'd probably spend most of my day there if it were up to me, but after listening to a great set there I picked up a shrimp po-boy and headed over to the big stage to wait for Better than Ezra.  It was blazing hot and fairly crowded, but we found a little spot to sit.  I'm not a big fan of their sound, myself, and took the opportunity to pull my hat over my eyes and take a little nap. The main event for the day was the 5 pm performance by The Eagles, which was not to be missed.  We headed over to that stage about 45 minutes early and it was already packed pretty tight.  Squeezing our way through the masses, all the while practically getting a contact high from all of the ganja wafting through the air, we found a couple of square feet to stand where we waited in the sun.  We were packed in like sardines, shoulder to smelly shoulder, with people as far as you could see in every direction.  Moving was really not an option.  It was like being in the middle of a 150-rider field.  We were just pack fodder.  I think Quint Davis estimated the crowd at 65,000.  Granted, I'd take that number with a grain of salt, but I don't think it was all that much of an exaggeration. The Eagles did not fail to deliver, but unfortunately we had to leave early.  That was, of course, practically impossible.  People did not want to let anyone by.  It was way tighter than any Mardi Gras crowd, and since I wasn't the one who had to pee, I have to admit I wasn't too motivated to push my way through.  I think it took three more songs before we reached the periphery of the crowd and could actually take a normal step.  Anyway, I was sad to have to leave before they were done, but at least they had started with most of their classics and we didn't have to deal with any traffic on the way home.

I expected the Sunday Giro to be a little thin since some riders were racing in Texas and others were doing a northshore ride.  Still, by the time we got going we'd accumulated a pretty good group and although it wasn't the fastest Giro, it was still a good workout with a few 6-7 mile stretches in the 27-29 mph range.  Throughout the ride we'd been seeing dark thunderclouds scattered about, but we'd managed to avoid all of them until we were halfway home.  I guess I was only four miles from home when it really started to rain, and although it lasted only ten or fifteen minutes, I was well-soaked when I got home.  I think my shoes are probably still wet.  Later that day The Daughter had to go to a wedding, so I took the opportunity to go out for an easy spin on the levee before dinner.  I decided to take the old steel Cervelo out for that ride since I could use my old, and dry, shoes on that bike.  Unfortunately, when I pumped up the rear tire the valve stem pulled loose from the tube and I ended up having to patch a tube and change it out so I could ride.  It's never simple.....  Anyway, I was pleased that I'd somehow managed to get in a decent week or riding despite some complications, logging almost 14 hours on the bike.  Too bad if was all on flat roads, though.

Into Summer

It's beginning to feel a little like Summer around here.  Granted, a hint of pre-dawn coolness still lingers, but within half an hour after sunrise the temperature rises relentlessly into the mid-80s.  Of course we haven't even begun to hit our mid-summer stride, but even so, it takes a little time to make the adjustment.  Last weekend was a two-Giro weekend for me, and I finished both straining to see through sweat-smeared glasses.  There are already four pair of riding gloves next to the bike.  They all stink and the most recently worn ones are still damp the next morning. They'll all go in the wash again tonight.  At least they're a lot better than the old leather and cotton mesh ones we used to use. Those didn't just smell bad, they would sometimes start to actually disintegrate by mid-season.

So last Friday I agreed to do a little half-hour "interview" on one of those mid-day radio talk shows.  You know, the ones hosted by guys who go by names like "Spud."  It was a bit of a gamble, as the topic was whether or not bicycles actually belonged on the road, and it was a call-in type of show.  Fortunately the host was reasonably sympathetic to cycling, especially for someone of his, shall we say, ample size.  There was only time for a few callers while I was on, so I think more good than harm was done.  If you're really bored, or just morbidly curious, you can listed to it here.  Also on Friday was the Red Stick Crit in Baton Rouge.  There were a lot of mixed feelings about this event within the racing community since it was being promoted by individuals who were clearly pretty clueless about bicycle racing. Fortunately we got the promoter and his event to a point where the course looked fairly safe, there were some normal classes and categories, and there would be actual officials on hand.  Although the turnout for the Cat. 4/5 and Cat. 1/2/3 races were quite thin, that may have had a lot more to do with the timing than anything else.  The Cat. 1/2/3 race was scheduled to start at 11:00 pm on Friday night.  Anyway, I think it was a great learning experience all-around.  The promoter came a very long way over the last month or two and probably has a much better idea of what will work and what won't should he decided to do the event again.  I myself was really quite surprised at how much I have come to take for granted from even our less experienced race promoters. Generally, those are guys who have some race experience, and have at least a general understanding of what a bike race looks like.  They know a criterium from a road race, they know about USAC licenses and the usual classes and categories, etc., etc.  Fortunately we were able to have four experienced officials on hand that night, so although the turnout might have been a little disappointing, the races themselves went off fine by all accounts, and I heard nothing but positive comments from those who went.

After two rather low-volume weeks, last week was, for me, all about getting back to some semblance of normal mileage and intensity.  In fact, I was intent on adding a little more intensity to my workouts than has been the status quo for the last few weeks. Most of that was focused on the weekend Giro Rides. Since I don't ride with any kind of power monitoring electronics, I can't quantify the increase objectively, but suffice it to say that I spent more time in the wind, pushed a little harder, and rode just a bit more aggressively.  It's that time of year.  May has always been a transition month for me.  Yes, I know it's rather late in the season for that, but for reasons that elude me, that's just how it always seems to work out for me.  Saturday's Giro was fairly fast, averaging a bit under 25 mph 35 miles that constitute the meat of the ride, even though the maximum speed remained relatively low at 32 and change.  Since there was a big fundraising ride in Thibodeaux for local rider Scott Hoppmeyer who suffered a serious spinal cord injury earlier this year, I wasn't expecting a big crowd on Sunday. Normally, I would have done the Thibodeaux ride, but The Wife had a contractor scheduled at 1:00 that afternoon to start negotiations on a kitchen renovation and as a matter of fiscal self-defense I felt it important that I be there. So I sent in a donation and set my sights on another Giro Ride instead.  Anyway, with so many of the regulars out of town, the group for the Sunday Giro was indeed smaller than usual. 

A quiet day on the levee.

We rolled out at an easy pace and for a while I wondered if I'd really be able to get the workout I was looking for.  As it turned out, though, that wasn't really a problem.  Aside from the fact that I spent more time in the wind than usual, the fast parts of the ride were just as fast as usual.  They just didn't last as long since there weren't enough riders to sustain the speed once things got up over 27 mph or so.  As a result, the sprints were even faster than they had been the day before, since more riders had fresher legs for them, which in turn yielded a max speed for the day that was a tad over 35 mph.  On the other hand, the Thibodeaux ride looked to have turned into a bit of a race because the usual Giro riders covered the 67 miles through the swamps at an average speed of 24.2, topping out with a maximum of 35.9.  Not exactly a sightseeing ride, I suspect.

This morning the legs felt pretty good, considering, but I did a pretty easy recovery type ride up on the levee anyway, even backing off on the way back to chat with a local triathlete.  As is typical for a Monday morning, the levee was really quiet.  The only other regular riders I saw were Celeste and, I think, David who were on their way out as I was coming back.  Otherwise, though, the morning weather was practically perfect for riding with a cool but humid mid-60s temperature and practically no wind at all.

Blue-shirt Weekend, Screwed Again

It all started Friday afternoon.  I skipped out of work early, loaded the Volvo up to the ceiling, and headed up to Baton Rouge for a long weekend of officiating the South Central Collegiate Cycling Conference road championships.  There was a Friday night registration that ran from 6 pm until around 10:30 pm, and then it was probably not until midnight that I was satisfied with the registration data and finally hit the sack.  Officiating collegiate racing is a bit of a different experience.  Since everything is done on a shoestring, the conference assigns "permanent" bib numbers to each rider.  They keep a less than perfect record of those numbers, and the riders keep less than perfect track of them. When riders upgrade they get different numbers, when they forget their numbers they get different numbers, and by the end of the road season a good 30% of the bib number data are wrong.  And then there's the whole category thing.  Despite the new USAC rule (7H1 if you are one of the few people who read the rulebook), collegiate riders below Category A tend to register in whatever category races they want, so the license categories in the USAC database can't really be trusted.  We had Cat. D riders in the Men's A race, and the majority of the Category B Women's race were actually Category D.  Go figure.  Anyway, despite those complications we got most of the riders registered Friday night and somehow managed to get the Saturday morning road races started on time, which is to say they were only ten minutes late. 

It was unseasonably cold on Saturday, and although it was ideal for racing, I spent most of the day wearing my Goretex rain jacket since I hadn't brought an appropriate wardrobe.  At least it was blue!  Maybe I should attach an official's patch to the front?  Shortly after the last group started, a guy in a clean starched shirt with a cellphone in his ear found us.  He was not happy.  Apparently the promoter hadn't actually gotten official permission to use the school parking lot (and rest rooms).  It was an election day and guess what?  Yep, the school was a polling location.  Little old ladies with handicap tags were confused.  We did our best to smooth things over since the promoter was somewhere out on the course racing in the A race.  Results went pretty well, there were not crashes, it didn't rain despite a 50% chance of thunderstorms, and we reconvened at the Team Time Trial course down on River Road late that afternoon.

Team TTs are always complicated.  Teams will wait until the last minute to decide who is riding on which team, categories get mixed, etc.  Somehow we once again got it all sorted out and started right on time.  Once I finished starting all of the teams I drove down to the finish, about half a mile away, and started plugging finish times into the computer, so ten minutes after the last team finished I had the results ready.  Unfortunately that's when the printer, or more likely the spooler, decided to go south on me.  I think it thought it was out of ink for some reason.  Anyway, that cost us about half an hour until we got the backup printer connected, rebooted, and printed out the TTT results.  After dinner I uploaded the results to the LAMBRA site and got things ready for Sunday's criterium around the Capitol building.

When we arrived at the criterium course I immediately noticed a rather big problem.  Right in the middle of the final 200 meters there were two crosswalk caution signs sticking up IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD.  The local capitol police had refused to allow the promoter to remove them.  I sent someone looking for a crescent wrench and at least got the one closest to the finish removed.  Amazingly this did not result in the complete breakdown of the state's pedestrian safety infrastructure.  Also amazingly, none of the riders hit the remaining one all morning.  The races went quite well, staying right on schedule.  Remarkably, there was not a single crash all weekend, at least as far as I know.  I particularly enjoyed the Men's Cat. B race.  Toward the end of the race a 2-rider break rolled off the front and gradually accumulated a 30 or 40-second lead on a fairly large pack.  Tulane wasn't represented in the break, but one of the Tulane riders, Ben Bradley, went to the front and held the gap steady for a few laps.  Then, with four or five laps to go they launched their teammate Stephen Noya off the front of the pack.  He put his head down and within two laps had caught the break as his teammates controlled the pack.  The three-rider break came through on the bell lap together and we anxiously watched the final corner for the sprint.  Somewhere on that last lap, though, Noya had attacked and he ended up coasting across the finish line with ten seconds to spare.  One of the other Tulane sprinters then took the pack sprint.  Nicely done.  They won the division II conference championship.

So the rest of this week was quite busy all-around and by Wednesday afternoon I was looking forward to the Wednesday Night Worlds training race out at the lakefront.  For a change, I actually got home and then out the door on the bike with enough time to make the start, or so I thought.  Somewhere on Carrollton Avenue, about halfway between home and the lakefront, I managed to put a screw neatly through the center of my rear tire and nearly through the rim as well.  I actually had to pull out the little Swiss Army Knife on my keychain in order to unscrew it from the tire.  The whole process set me back about ten minutes and about 50 psi (my little mini pump is subject to diminishing returns past about 60 psi), so I missed about a lap and a half.  A 3-man break was already off the front, so I latched onto it for a little while to get warmed up.  I watched from the back as Tim and Stephen reacted to Mike's rather erratic riding (he was riding a disc wheel in a strong crosswind, probably on a TT bike.....).  Eventually, Stephen attacked in order to drop him.  We were absorbed into the pack a little while later, and the break was caught.  I was feeling OK except that the low rear tire was not inspiring a lot of confidence, so I stayed off the front and followed wheels.  There was a lot of attrition as the pace would ramp up to 28-30 mph in the crosswind, so staying on the back was by no means an easy task.  The finish stretch was the worst of the crosswind, so when the leaders jumped everyone beyond about 5th wheel, including me, was pretty much screwed.  "Live by the draft, die by the draft."

Rob's back after having twins
a few weeks ago

Today's long Thursday ride started out pretty easy, but eventually things got animated at the front and together with the strong wind it turned out to be a pretty hard ride both coming and going.  I was not feeling particularly strong, but did a lot of work on the way out, so by the time we were half-way back I was content to ride wheels while certain other riders pretended to be racing.  Now I'm just plain tired.....

Rain and Routine

The legs were feeling OK on Monday, so I went out for an easy ride on the levee to loosen things up. It was just a routine ride - more about time on the bike than actual training. 

The streets were good and wet Tuesday morning, but I went out anyway. I'd checked the radar and it looked clear (it wasn't, however - just a weather.com glitch apparently). Since the temperature was warm I figured a few miles on the Rain Bike couldn't hurt, even though there was no chance that the routine Tuesday long ride was going to happen.  I was fully expecting to ride alone, of course, but soon after I hit the levee bike path, a rain-jacketed Brian rolled up to me and moments later Howard turned around to join us. The rain started a few miles later and continued for the rest of the ride.  It was warm enough, though, that I knocked off 23 easy miles and arrived back home with dry feet and air in both tires.  It had been a good call because it rained pretty much the rest of the day.  When I got home I checked the radar again and discovered that the one radar frame I'd looked at happened to be lacking the rain data.

Wednesday was another routine levee ride, at least until my rear tire went flat about halfway out.  I took ten minutes to fix it after prying a particularly well-embedded shard out of the tread with my pocket knife. Having told the rest of the group to continue on without me, I met back up with them around Williams Blvd.  The Wednesday Night Worlds were scheduled for 6 pm, but during the day there were reports that the storm that had come through earlier had flooded Lakeshore Drive and it was therefore full of dirt and debris.  This happens fairly routinely out there, and the police just barricade it off for a few days until the guys come out and put all of the dirt back where it came from.  I was a little late getting out of the office, and so I arrived at Lakeshore Drive a few minutes after the race had started, joining the group out near Franklin Avenue.  They had decided on a modified route that went from the fountain to Franklin, then up and over the levee to a U-turn and then back to Lakeshore Drive. The only problem was that the group had to negotiate barricades three or four times per lap.  One of them required single-file.  None of that stopped the training race, however.  I wasn't feeling too sharp and spent a lot of time hanging around near the back, which eventually resulted in my getting gapped off when Eddie sat up about halfway into the last lap.  Oh well.  Live by the draft, die by the draft.

This morning the weather was awesome.  Clear blue skies, light winds, temperature in the mid-60s.  That brought out a fairly big group for the long Thursday ride and within a few miles of the start the pace really started to get fast.  I guess we averaged close to 25 mph most of the way out to Ormond.  The return trip was somewhat less intense.  Otherwise it was a pretty routine ride.

So this weekend I'll be officiating the LSU collegiate race, which is also the South Central Collegiate Cycling Conference championship.  That means I probably won't get to ride all weekend.  Unfortunately it also means I'll miss the other stuff going on this weekend, such as the Ochsner triathlon, the Blue Angels air show, etc.  The weather forecast for Saturday is not looking good at all with the chance of rain well above 50%.  That would mean officiating a road race in the rain and possibly an evening team time trial in the rain.  Rain really complicates that stuff a lot.  I'm going to need to bring extra socks!  Hopefully it will be over by the time they have the criterium on Sunday morning because I think that course will be kind of slippery when wet.

The MSGP

The Mississippi Gran Prix is a regionally significant stage race held in Brookhaven, Mississippi.  Now in its 11th year, it is really the offspring of the Natchez Classic stage race that had been held for about the same number of years in nearby Natchez.  The godfather of the race is Frank Moak, commander and chief of the Herring Gas team. This year's race featured a new road race course and nearly flawless race results.

So I rushed around late Friday afternoon in order to get myself and some of the LAMBRA race officiating equipment up to Brookhaven in time for the Cat. 1/2/3 criterium (Video!) that evening.  By the time I got through the New Orleans rush-hour traffic I was running a little late and as I sat waiting at the train crossing in Brookhaven I got a text from the Chief Referee, Ricky, asking me what my ETA would be.  The crit is fun to watch and usually quite animated since everyone is fresh and there's a pretty hefty stage prizelist in addition to the overall GC prizelist. Only the Cat. 1/2/3s have the Friday night criterium.  For the rest of us, the race starts on Saturday with the road race.  Local rider Jacob Schoen and new NOBC rider Mat Street were staying with me at the local Day's Inn which, despite being rated better than a couple of the neighboring hotels, was definitely nothing to write home about.  The Herring team, however, was staying right on the Criterium course at a new and freshly remodeled luxury bed and breakfast place.

The Master's field was a little on the small side with about 30 riders and the road course looked to be manageable with mostly low rolling stuff punctuated by about five miles of more significant hills mid-way around the long 20-something mile loop.  Midsouth had all of their riders on hand for this one.  The NOBC had Mark McMurry, Steve J., Rolan J., and John Egan.  In the field were strong riders like Donald Davis, Hunter East, Glenn Richard and others from area teams.  The road race started out at a pretty moderate pace for the first of the two laps required to make our 54 mile race, but somewhere along the line a group of three rolled off the front.  At the time I was too far back in the pack to do much about that, and since three teams were represented in it there was barely any response at the front.  I looked up the road and thought to myself, "Really?  None of these other guys are going to react to a break with Hunter East, Glenn Richard, and Jason Miller??"  Sometimes I just can't figure out what riders are thinking.  Anyway, it was a couple of miles before I worked my way up to the front and decided to see if I could get anything going amidst the blocking.  It was, however, too little, too late and I eventually gave up, rather frustrated at both my ineffective fitness level and the group's apparent willingness to settle for racing for fourth place.  Since there were still a few strong riders in the pack, however, I figured there would be some fireworks when we hit the hilly section on the second lap, so I set my sights on that.  Well, wouldn't you know it?  As we flew down the first big downhill before the first big climb I nailed some rock or something with my front wheel and a moment later heard the dreaded pssssst, psssst, psssst. Worst possible time to flat.  Well, I got a pretty fast wheel change, but I figured my race was essentially over.  (I would later discover a completely loose spoke and healthy wobble in my rear wheel.)  After a little while I could see the group follow car about a minute up the road and was surprised that I seemed to be actually gaining ground on it.  I soon caught VJ and Eddie and thought that if we worked together right away before there was an attack we might catch and salvage pack time.  Unfortunately they were both pretty cooked and when I wiggled my elbow at the top of one of the climbs nobody was there.  I figured it was as good a day for a time trial as any and just motored on, still surprised that the group up ahead wasn't pulling away.  Little did I know at the time that there had been an attack shortly after I'd flatted that had split the pack and the group I was chasing was already a good two minutes behind the other group, which itself was two minutes behind the break, unless you counted Hunter who would finish another minute and a half ahead of the two other riders who had been in the original break. I was essentially seven minutes back, and it's probably a good thing I didn't know it at the time. Anyway, six or seven kilometers before the finish I looked back and saw the entire Cat. 3/4 field that had started out with 60 riders closing in on me.  When the lead motor came by I motioned to him and let him know that the Masters group was right up the road and that they would probably all come together right at the finish (they did, much to the consternation of the officials).  I eased up as the Cat. 3/4s passed and sat a few bikelengths off the back of them for the last few miles, picking up Lenny who had flatted out of the Masters group too.  I ended up only about 20 seconds behind that second Masters group, but since there had been ten riders ahead of them and they numbered nine or ten themselves, I was already out of GC contention, way, way down in 21st place. There had been a fair amount of carnage in the other races.  Jacob had crashed and done in his mom's Zip 404 in the Cat. 4/5 race and NOBC rider Chris M. had crashed and DNF'd in that race as well. One of the women had gone to the hospital with a broken arm or wrist and a number of others had crashed as well. 

The evening time trial was a short 2.8 mile affair on a rolling course with a significant tailwind of which I apparently totally failed to take advantage. Although I'd intentionally started out well below maximum, I thought I was going pretty hard en route to my time of 6:39.  That turned out to be a damned slow time that ranked only 21st in the Masters and the less I say about that the better.  The fastest time in our field was Ed Novak's 5:44, practically a minute faster in only 2.8 miles. That was pretty demoralizing even though the TT was pretty pointless for me from the outset since my GC hopes had already gone down the tubes.  I decided there and then that I'd race the next morning's circuit race more seriously and if I blew up at then end, well, so be it.

Sunday morning was windy and a little overcast as we lined up for the 4-lap, 26 mile circuit race.  The course (http://app.strava.com/rides/6791898) featured one big climb up to the finish, one or two much smaller ones, and was otherwise pretty flat.  Considering that the Midsouth guys, and likely Hunter East who was leading, would probably be riding defensively, the chances of a break getting off the front on this course seemed pretty low.  If one did manage to go, however, I was determined to be in it.  Other than the big climb at the finish, which we would be doing only three times, the only other place likely to allow for a breakaway was a rather brief section of really bad asphalt where there was a really strong crosswind.  The first lap started really fast as we flew down the longest descent on the course going from zero to 42 mph in about a minute, but with a hot spot bonus in store at the end of the second lap I wasn't too surprised that things weren't very aggressive.  We went up the big climb at the end of lap one without a big attack.  Then, on the crosswind section of that lap someone at the front really put the hammer down and strung things out pretty badly.  Mark, who was in full-on sprinter mode for this race, nearly got shelled along there as he took a little ride in the dirt.  I guess a few were dropped along that stretch, but then it eased up as riders started thinking about the hot spot.  For me, the hot spot presented only the danger of getting dropped since I was so far down on GC anyway, so I was just trying to maintain a decent position near the front of the group.  Naturally there was a sprint to the top that opened up some gaps, and the leaders kept the pressure on coming over the top and into the long downhill on the other side.  The rest of us had to really hammer down the hill at about 37 mph in order to close the gap, but once we did things slowed down again. With one lap to go we climbed the big hill relatively slowly and it was looking like it was going to come down to a pack sprint.  With a mile or so to go riders started crowding the front of the pack and maintaining a good position required a lot of focus. I noticed Mark kind of stuck in the middle when things kind of opened up along the right side, so I tapped him on the hip and when I saw him start to move over onto my wheel I went all the way up to the front of the group without looking back again.  I later found out that someone had pushed him out of position.  Fortunately, being an experienced sprinter, he found his way toward the front anyway.  For some reason the front of the group slacked off just before the 200M mark, but then the sprint up the hill started in earnest and immediately a big gap opened between the front six and rest of us.  I cursed myself for hesitating so long and hammered up the hill finishing 7th with Steve and Rolan right behind me.  Mark had exploded up the hill and taken 3rd, ending up 7th on GC.  Anyway, I was reasonably satisfied with my finish, considering the circumstances.  I should note that I'm including as a "circumstance" the fact that I suck at time trials.  Anyway, results are on the LAMBRA website.  I'd put up some photos, but my camera spend the weekend sitting on my dresser plugged into the charger all weekend.  At least I didn't leave my Shimano Di2 battery plugged in at my hotel room causing me to miss the road race like one rider did.

Uninspired

After a good solid 300+ mile week and a very late bedtime I didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt about sleeping late Monday morning, which is to say that I skipped my usual 6:30 am ride.  Unfortunately, I didn't feel much better at 5:45 this morning when the alarm went off.  Although the weather has been great for riding, I just felt so uninspired.  So it was one of those mornings when I had to push myself out the door and grind out the miles, knowing it was the right thing to do while all the time wishing I was sitting on the front porch drinking coffee. It's not like I'm over-trained.  Over-aged, perhaps, but definitely not over-trained.  Perhaps I just need to get to sleep a little earlier for a couple of days.

When I arrived at the start today I was surprised how few riders there were.  There had been a report that the bike path would be closed under the Huey P. Long bridge, but apparently that has been delayed.  I wondered if that had scared some people away, but as it turned out it hadn't.  By the time we got to the playground we'd picked up enough additional riders to at least double or triple the size of the group, which is to say there were maybe 15. The pace going out was a little erratic, mostly around 24 mph, but occasionally surging closer to 28 for no apparent reason.  Every now and then Lenny would randomly attack.  I quickly retreated to the nether regions of the paceline where the temperament better suited my mood, reacting reluctantly to the sudden gaps with long steady efforts rather than quick out-of-the-saddle bursts. At any rate, the ride out to the turnaround was fairly fast today, which is probably good because I certainly needed a little push.  If I'd been riding alone today I have no doubt I would have ended up going 15 mph and looking at the scenery.  The return trip was considerably slower and I found myself raising the speed by a couple mph to 25 mph on those rare occasions when I'd hit the front.  I guess I wasn't the only one feeling lazy today.  Toward the end Lenny inexplicably attacked a couple of times.  I wondered if he was trying to do a little interval workout. Sometimes I may start a ride feeling sluggish and uninspired, but by the end I'm back to normal.  Not today.  Group training rides are like a box of chocolates......

Springtime Giro

I had been expecting a pretty small Giro Ride this morning.  As it happened, however, there was a pretty good turnout.  I guess the race in Mobile and Holiday weekend didn't take many of the local riders away.  Although the predicted high for the day was around 80F, it was nice and cool as I rode out to the start. My legs didn't feel exactly refreshed, but on the other hand they didn't feel all that bad either.  I figured I'd hang out near the back for most of the ride and then see if I had anything left later.  There was a pretty good ENE wind, and although the pace ramped up pretty well on the way out to the turnaround, it was easy to sit in.  I put in a little effort at the turnaround and then as usual there were a couple of slow miles as everyone regrouped.  Well, almost everyone.  A few riders rode off the front and by the time the group got back together they were a good 40 seconds up the road.  Once we picked up a little tailwind, however, the chase was on and they were caught by the time we were a mile or so from the Goodyear sign.  I was pretty far back when the actual sprint started, so for me it was mostly just weaving through riders who were blowing up.  Anyway, I think that the last five miles before the Goodyear sprint averaged close to 30 mph. I made just a couple more efforts, up the two overpasses.

As Good As It Gets

When John Dias sent out an email earlier this week looking for people to do an 80 mile Friday ride with him I thought to myself, "it must be nice!"  I'd completely forgotten that I was off from work this Friday.  Finally, some time Thursday, I realized that I could actually do a long ride on the northshore on a Friday.  So I picked up Ben at 7 am, stopped for some coffee, drove across the causeway and arrived at the Lee Road Middle School, well, a few minutes late.  Fortunately, the other three riders, John, David and Chuck, were still there.  It was cooler than I'd expected, and there was a pretty good north wind blowing, but otherwise the weather was absolutely spectacular.  We set out under a clear blue sky surrounded by the bright green foliage of spring with a nicely matched group.  I looked over at Ben and said, "It doesn't get better than this."

We were planning on doing around 80 miles, starting out along the standard winter ride route.  This group was clearly not interested in slowing down too much to take in the sights, but on the other hand the pace remained pretty steady and well within the sustainable range.  John and especially Ben were taking really, really long pulls with the rest of us coming through with more normal ones.  Way up at the top of the course we turned onto Highway 439 and finally picked up a little tailwind.  Ben was on the front and just stayed there for at least five miles.  He was definitely "in the zone" and I wasn't about to interfere.

Rather than take the usual shortcut at Sie Jenkins Road, we decided to tack on some additional mileage by going all the way in to Bogalusa before returning back to Enon.  At that point we headed back out and did the Tulane road race loop backwards. For some reason I had figured that would bring us back to the start with just about 80 miles, but as it turned out I was about ten miles off.  We ended up with right around 90 miles instead.  Oh well.  Ten bonus miles! I guess it'll be the Giro for me tomorrow.  Way too much stuff piling up right now to make the trip to Mobile for the Sunny South criterium.

Bumps in the Road

By Wednesday evening it was looking like we'd have a break in the rain, at least until the next line of rain was scheduled to arrive later that night, so the Wednesday Night Worlds was "on" despite the fact that the prior night's storm had closed a fair amount of Lakeshore Drive.  Being desperate for a ride, however, I decided I'd at least ride out to the lakefront to see how bad it was, and hope a few others would be there so I could log a few miles. Just after I made it to Lakeshore Drive I saw the group, understandable smaller than usual, heading the other way.  Rather than turn around and try to catch them, I decided to continue on and see how bad the road was.  I had already gone past one line of traffic barrels closing off part of the usual course and much of the lake side of the road was covered with a layer of dirt, rocks and miscellaneous debris that had washed up over the seawall. Another line of barrels awaited at the Elysian Fields traffic circle.  None of this, of course, deterred the intrepid WNW crew, and a couple of minutes later I merged into the group, dodging traffic barrels, sand, rocks and related debris on an abbreviated 3-mile circuit from the Elysian Fields traffic circle to the "fountain" traffic circle.  The smaller than usual group was going a little slower than usual, and the first lap was intentionally "neutral" so everyone could figure out where the course of the day was and how best to negotiate the various obstacles.  Once things got going, though, I soon found myself going more or less flat out chasing the first break of the day.  Suddenly I hit something big that I didn't even see, felt something hit my chest, and heard something tumble onto the ground at 30 mph.  I thought for sure I'd pinch-flatted since the impact had been so hard and eased over to the left to get out of the way.  Then, looking down, I saw that the tire was still holding air.  I looked around to see if something on the bike had broken and then noticed my computer was missing.  My venerable old Campi Ergobrain had launched out of its mount (I sometimes struggle to get it off the bike and after at least 110,000 miles have never had had one eject itself before), hit my chest, and landed somewhere on the muddy street.  Matt and I backtracked looking for it while the group continued and luckily found it still working.  I snapped it back into place just in time to get back into the group that was, luckily, not going too fast.  Anyway, Tim soon took a flyer, the pack caught, and we ended up all together for the last lap.  It wasn't the hardest WNW by a long shot, but considering the weather I felt really lucky to have gotten in any sort of ride at all.  It stormed later that night, as predicted, and everything was still soaking wet in the morning. Once again I skipped the morning ride.

So I'm thinking I'll join John Dias and others for a long ride in the country since I'm off work tomorrow.  That is likely to leave me pretty wasted, but I feel like I need a long ride in the hills right about now.  There's a little criterium in Mobile on Saturday that I probably won't be able to make because I have a fair amount of work to do over the weekend, not the least of which is to get my tax return stuff together.

Now it's time to head home from the office and I just remembered that my rear tire had gone flat about a block from here this morning.  Damn.....

Too Much for a Ride

A very impressive and slow-moving storm visited the New Orleans area in the early morning hours today - the same one that was throwing around semi trailers in Texas yesterday.  Although it was already raining when I went to bed at around 10:30 pm, I think it was around 3 am when the lightning, thunder, pouring rain, and terrified dog woke me up from my already inadequate and badly needed sleep.  The thunder and lightning show continued for the better part of the next four hours.  I ended up trying to sleep with the lights on in order to keep the dog from seeing the flashes of lightning.  Even so, I had to stop him countless times from trying to dig a hole in the carpet.  It was all still going strong at 6:30, and although I've been known to go out for an hour's ride in the rain, the combination of wind, rain, lightning and flooded streets was a little too much for a ride this morning. I made some coffee and eventually fired up the laptop which provided enough email to keep me busy until after 10:00 when the rain finally eased up and I was able to consider riding to work.  The Wife had a doctor's appointment today to look into a cold that she hasn't been able to kick, so taking the car wasn't really a good option.  I put extra pants and shoes into my messenger bag, zipped up my rain coat and felt quite lucky to have arrived at the office relatively dry.  Things seem to be improving now, so I'm thinking about trying to make the Wednesday Night Worlds out on the lakefront, although there are a couple of complications that might prevent it.  The photo above was definitely not taken by me.  It was posted to Facebook by a friend of a friend and looks like a shot down Bourbon Street around 2 or 3 am this morning.  Anyway, I really like it.

Multitasking

It was around 5:15 am when I got up, pulled on my "blue shirt" and shuffled to the kitchen to boil a couple of eggs while I loaded up the car.  It was going to be one of those multitasking days where I officiate, race, and then officiate some more.  The term "Jack of all trades, master of none" comes to mind......   The Volvo was pretty well packed with two big bins full of clipboards, paper, stopwatches, radios, etc, another bin full of signs, the big finish line flag, the race clock and stand, the surprisingly heavy PA system, the big pop-up shelter, a folding table and chair, a couple of coolers full of water, the generator, and of course my own race bag, computer, printer, etc.  The bike went on the roof and I ended up squeezing my front wheel into the passenger seat alongside my race bag. There was some patchy dense fog for the 30-minute drive to LaPlace, and along the way I saw the police setting out flares along I-10 in Metairie where there must have been a serious accident.  Later, at the gas station just off the interstate at LaPlace, there was a big cluster of state police cars and wreckers loaded with wrecked cars.  There must have been a big pile-up in the fog somewhere nearby and as I filled the generator with gas I hoped nobody had been seriously injured.

We were missing a couple of our regular race volunteers this year and since this was a 2-person time trial there were a lot of race-day registrations.  Naturally most of them showed up about fifteen minutes before registration was scheduled to close, so there was a longer line than I like to see, but we somehow managed to get everybody into the computer, print out and post the start lists, and get the first team on the road on time for the 9 am start.  That left me about fifteen minutes to squeeze into my skinsuit and find my 55+ teammate Dennis.  Shortly before we were scheduled to start I stopped to redirect riders who were warming up in an area that the local police didn't want riders, and so I ended up sprinting from there to the start line with zero seconds to spare before we started.

Dennis is just starting to get back into shape after a very long time, maybe ten or fifteen years, away from racing.  Since I didn't really want to do a team time trial without warmup that would rip my legs off, and then have to compile the results, this seemed like a good match. Dennis started out with practically a full-out sprint from the line and right away we were up to about 28 mph, which I knew was entirely unsustainable, even despite the moderate tailwind we had.  Eventually we settled down to something in the 25 mph range, but I could tell Dennis was suffering right away.  Being the big guy in a 2-man time trial with me means scrapping around for relatively little draft.  So my pulls started getting longer and longer as we neared the turnaround and I dropped the pace a few times to keep us together.  On the way out we were doing a pretty good job of holding the gap to our minute-man, or minute-team, until the last few miles.  After the turnaround when we started into the headwind we really had to slow down a lot to keep it together and I spent a lot of time on the front at 22-23 mph which was a whole lot slower than the teams that flew past us were going! Needless to say our time was nothing to write home about. I think the surprise of the day was the team of Ben Bradley and Stephen Noya, both riding for the Tulane team, that posed the second fastest time of the day (54:39). On the plus side, after the finish I was still able to focus, there wasn't a thick layer of salt caked on my face, and my legs felt fine.  So I jumped into my car, changed back into my officiating clothes, and got started on the results within five minutes.  That all went quite smoothly and we had everything posted and awarded on schedule. Then we packed everything back into the car, unloaded it into my basement, and I went upstairs to clean up the results and post them and some podium photos to the website.  It was probably about 4 pm before I finally took a badly needed shower.

Rough Shoulders

A late afternoon meeting that ended a bit early prompted me to take care of some pre-event duties Thursday evening.  Despite the fact that I'd been late to that meeting because of a sudden rainstorm, and subsequently ridden there in a light drizzle, I decided I'd take a chance on the LaPlace time trial course having escaped the scattered rain.  I needed to get out there and freshen up the road markings for the turnarounds, and this looked like a good opportunity for that.  So I picked up a couple of cans of road-marking paint, threw the bike into the car, and headed for I-10.  Of course by then it was right in the middle of rush hour, so it probably took me half an hour just to get to the interstate.  LaPlace isn't very far away, though, so I arrived at the TT start location a bit before 6 am.  This stretch of road (Hwy. 51) runs adjacent to and parallel to the elevated I-55, and although you'd think that the only people using it would be looking for a nice place to go fishing, at this time of day there were a few who were apparently trying to beat the I-55 traffic to Pontchatoula. Since I was by myself and the sky was overcast, I decided I'd better stick to the wide but bumpy shoulder.  It was not comfortable, however, and every now and then when there weren't any cars coming, I'd get back up onto the nice smooth asphalt that makes this route such a good time trial course.  On the way out I stopped at the start line and then at the 5k, 10k and 20k turnarounds to re-mark them, finally getting back to the car just before it started getting dark.  I can't say it was the most enjoyable ride I've done lately, but at least it's one more thing I can check off of the list for Sunday.

This morning I was actually a little surprised to find three other riders waiting for me on the levee.  Sometimes I end up riding solo on Fridays.  Today we had a nice little paceline in which each rider was taking pulls of two or three miles at steady speeds in the narrow range of 21-22 mph.  I stopped at Zotz afterward for a cup of dark roast.  I guess I'll be riding the Giro tomorrow morning, although it's looking like I might have to bail out a little early.  Then on Sunday I'll be working registration and results for the NOBC 2-Person Time Trial, and doing in a TT with Dennis in-between, assuming we aren't terribly short-handed.

The Thursday after Wednesday Night Worlds

It's thus far been a good week for training -- good weather, no big complications or time constraints, etc.  Of course, good weather and adequate training time come with a price. I'm a little tired.  Yesterday, being Wednesday, included both the usual morning training ride and the 6 pm Wednesday Night Worlds (WNW).  WNW is a generic term used across the country for local training races.  These are typically, shall we say, unsupervised.  It's up to the riders themselves to enforce some measure of order and safety using whatever means necessary.  Yesterday that meant Tim riding up alongside a strong, enthusiastic, but somewhat unpredictable clip-on aero-bar equipped rider and politely asking him to drop back because he was scaring the bejesus out of the riders behind him.  If this happens to you, don't take it personally.  We're out there suffering in anaerobic conditions, sharing the road with often unaware drivers rushing to get home from work, and the added complication of occasional erratic bike handling near the front of the group is best reserved for more sedate outings.  There were also a few riders on TT bikes, which frankly makes me a little nervous when things bunch up and I see them reaching for the brakes with 80% of their weight hovering over the front wheel.  There's a reason they seem to keep falling on their heads.  But I digress.....

So I arrived at the training race just a minute late, rounding the curve on Lakeshore Drive in time to see the group rolling out over the levee at UNO heading east.  No problem, though.  I just continued on and made a U-turn a couple of miles later when I saw them heading back my way.  I knew they'd be going fast, but I'm afraid I underestimated the speed differential this time.  Suddenly I heard wheels coming up on me really fast and had to jump with everything I had, going from 15 mph to 30 in about fifteen pedal strokes, merging into the middle of the group before the effort had really caught up with me.  I think the group had already temporarily split, but I was more focused on sucking in enough O₂ to catch up with the sudden ATP backlog before the next attack.

On the next lap a gap opened up and the group split with a few riders, maybe six or so?, forming a break.  The rest of the group was in complete disarray for the rest of the lap as the gap expanded to what must have been about a minute.  I, however, was in no mood to turn the training race into a social ride just because of such a small gap.  I was also in no mood to bridge up to the break at 30 mph, alone, even it that had been possible.  So I spent much of the next lap trying to keep the pace up and get our group more organized, which eventually paid off as a number of us finally got a reasonable paceline going.  The gap to the lead group seemed to be holding steady, and then somewhere on the third of four laps it started coming down.  That was probably because they were slowing down because we'd been holding a fairly steady pace that Strava showed as about a 25.5 mph average.  So with a bit under one lap to go it came back together, except that one or two ended up off the front, and stayed there. We had a nice but typically long sprint to the top of the levee, only about half of which I contested.

This morning I was feeling pretty dragged-out for the Thursday long levee ride, but fortunately the pace was mostly within reason.  If the weather holds out I'll probably try to make it out to the LaPlace time trial course this evening so I can ride the course with a paint can in my pocket and re-mark the course for 10, 20 and 40km time trials.  We're having our annual 2-person Time Trial on Sunday.

Toasted in Tuscaloosa

The Tour de Tuscaloosa up in Alabama has developed a reputation as a pretty tough early-season race. I'd only ridden it once before, in 2009.  The challenging criterium and road courses, however, were still firmly etched in my brain as I made the long drive with a number of rider from the Tulane team.  I wasn't expecting much of myself, results-wise, which was probably my first mistake.

The 35+ Masters criterium had only 33 riders, but there was a lot of horsepower on the starting line nonetheless.  A few of the names were ones I'd not normally expect to find in the masters race, which is probably more an indication of the depth of the Cat. 1/2 field than anything else.  The Tuscaloosa criterium course is a fairly long one that features a fast downhill down to the river and then a two-stage climb back up to the rest of the course. The race started out fast and a break went off the front right away.  I'd come to the race with few expectations and was looking at it more as a hard training ride than a race.  I probably shouldn't have done that.  So we were about halfway through the race when, as I was hanging out near the back of the field, that an attack on the climb opened a gap a couple of riders ahead of me.  I hesitated.  The rider ahead of me hesitated.  By the time we were back on level ground there was a 20-second gap and our race was basically over.  Luckily I was able to get together with the rider who had been ahead of me and we worked pretty smoothly together for the rest of the race, eventually catching a few riders on the final lap.  The best I can say is that I didn't get lapped and rolled across the line with an unimpressive 25th place.  In the Cat. 4 race I was glad to see Ben riding very aggressively and strongly at the front, even getting off in a 2-rider break for a few laps.  Unfortunately he got stuck back in the pack in the last laps and only managed a 12th place finish.

So Sunday morning I headed over to the road race course with Miko who was doing the Cat. 5 race. My own race didn't start until noon, so I had a lot of time to hang around and watch the Cat. 1/2/3s come through a couple of times.  The road course is one of those that really wears on you - lots of rolling hills along with a few strategically placed steep and/or long ones.  I was feeling marginally more competitive but was still lacking enough confidence to be much of a factor.  The first two laps of the 10-mile circuit seemed really fast with lots of attacks and counter-attacks.  I think we averaged 25 mph on one of those laps.  The end of each lap featured a fairly long and steep climb, and by the second time around I was seriously wondering what I'd gotten myself into.  I guess it was around the start of the third lap (we were doing five) when a break of about six got off the front.  I tacked onto the end of it at the last minute and stayed there for a couple of miles to see what would happen.  A few of the guys were definitely motivated to make a go of it, and when I looked back I could see that we had a huge gap on the rest of the rapidly disintegrating field, so I started taking pulls along with most of the others.  I'd say that most of the people in this break were about 75% committed to it, so although the pace would occasionally slacken, it was staying fast enough to be worthwhile.  After five or six miles the pace slowed down a bit and a number of riders who had been chasing finally bridged up to us. The field size was now up to maybe 12-14 riders and I was quite relieved that the next time up the finish line hill didn't feature any attacks.  This group rolled along for the next lap fairly smoothly and I was even able to ride tempo up the finish line hill in order to keep things a little under control.  Somewhere after the start of the last lap, I guess on the longish climb, the group split while I was looking at the scenery at the back.  I didn't even know that a break had gotten off the front until the gap was up to maybe 20 seconds.  I was frankly rather shocked because there hadn't been any significant response from the pack, but by that time there wasn't much I could do about it.  Apparently there were some team tactics afoot at the front, but at any rate the break of six or seven pulled away really quickly, splitting the group almost evenly in half. I was pretty satisfied anyway since the closest thing I'd had to a goal for the race was to finish with the pack.  When the predictable attack came on the finish climb, about 400 meters from the finish, I saw Donald kind of blow up and pretty much followed suit, letting the front five or six riders battle it out for the win and just riding smoothly to the finish in 13th place, which I was surprised to discover was still "in the money."  Somehow that $20 seemed surprisingly satisfying, though.  Meanwhile, Ben kind of saved the day with an impressive 2nd place finish in the Cat. 4 race coming out of a 2-rider break and time-trialing the last lap ahead of the pack.

A Whole Week

Things have been pretty busy, cycling-wise, since last Friday.  Alas, I'm still hopelessly behind in a number of areas, not the least of which is training.  Last weekend the Tulane cycling team organized and promoted its first collegiate race, the Green Wave Cycling Classic, and just to make sure they jumped into the deep end, it was a stage race.  By all accounts it went off quite well.  Nobody went to the hospital and nobody went to jail.  For me it was a whole weekend off the bike, and just to twist the knife, I didn't ride on Friday either (I think it was raining in the morning). I was officiating along with Ricky Dunn who came in from Monroe.  As stage races go, this one was pretty easy on the officials.  The organizer (Landon vomSteeg, who also didn't get to race) had his support crew pretty well organized and everything went off pretty much on time.  The only problem was that half of the riders waited until about fifteen minutes before registration closed to register, so the road races had to be pushed back by half an hour.  Compounding the delay was the fact that collegiate riders seem to change category practically at random and the SCCCC insists on trying to give them "permanent" race numbers each season.  Of course a number of them forgot their numbers, or gave me the wrong number, or upgraded and had to get new numbers in a different sequence.  I never did get a list of assigned bib numbers and rider license numbers from the conference, just a big box of numbers delivered by one of the Texas teams about half an hour after registration opened.  Anyway, the road races up at Enon went pretty well, results were clean and straightforward, and we arrived at the evening Time Trial site with plenty of time to spare.  There were just a couple of minor errors in the RR results, so all was good.  The TT was interesting in that probably half of the riders had never been held for a TT start, and the guy holding them, Landon, had never held riders for a TT start.  Fortunately none of them fell, although there were a couple of close calls.  The only problem with the TT was that a few riders were late for their starts.  One of them would, in all likelihood, have turned in one of the best times.  I sat on the tailgate of the Volvo after the race and put in all of the times, so after driving back across the lake and having a bite to eat at home, the day's results were up on the website by 8:30 or so.  Sunday's criterium on Lakeshore Drive went well too.  The first problem, though, was that the parking lot that was supposed to serve as part of the course was basically covered in crawfish heads from somebody's party the night before.  We made a little course change that worked out fine.  By the time the racing started there was a pretty strong east wind blowing that helped break up the fields.  It made for some hard rides, but easy judging.  Anyway, I'd have to call the event a success.

So by Monday I was ready to get back on the bike, and went out for an early solo ride on the levee.  The rest of the week was going smoothly, unless you count a whole bunch of LAMBRA/USAC race permitting drama, until we had to cancel the Wednesday night worlds out on the lakefront because of rain.  Thursday morning it was still rainy and wet, but the radar looked like it might give me a little break so I went out to the levee in the dark on the rain bike to see how lucky I would get.  I wasn't optimistic enough to leave the rain jacket at home, though.  I made it out past River Ridge before the rain started again and I had to stop to put the jacket on.  By the time I was halfway back it was pouring rain and I could see lightning up ahead.  I have to say, though, that if you're going to be riding in the rain, full fenders and Goretex are the way to go!  I was pretty comfortable, although of course my feet started getting a little cold toward the end.  Friday morning was another wash-out with thunderstorms in the morning.  I left home late hoping the worst would pass because the dogs were scared. The little one basically shakes and pants whenever there's thunder.  A minute after I left home, in the car, the sky opened up again and for a while I wondered if Broadway might be too flooded for me to get to work.  No such luck, though.  It still wasn't over, though, and rained all day and night.  Around 2 am this morning was a huge storm with constant thunder and lightning that kept me up for pretty much the rest of the night.  The dogs were pacing around the bed and scared for hours on end.  Needless to say, I didn't get to ride this morning.

Thursday night I made a last-minute decision to go up to Tuscaloosa for the Tour de Tuscaloosa.  I haven't ridden that one in a few years and am not expecting much, but I figure it will be good training because both the road and criterium courses are pretty challenging.