Initiating Tactics - "The Plan"

19 August 2009

I have a race on Saturday that is a selection race for a National Championship race. It is a mass start RR but limited (the selection) to riders from the city I live in and the county (like a state).

Basically each major city and county can take 6 riders to the National Championship. Ok, simple enough. Here comes the interesting part.

My team has riders from both the city and the county. I am unable to qualify, because I'm a white guy, even if I won the race outright. No big deal, I've been in this position before.

So my goal is to help as many guys from my team qualify for the Nationals (or National Team Selection race I really have no idea).

So today we hashed out some tactics.

It involves 4 guys going to the front on the first lap, hammering their brains out and then a rabbit goes (into the headwind section) just after we start lap 2 of 7. The idea is we are supposed to see who marks him or, if he is joined by another strong rider, to give him a shot at the long break. This involves blocking.

At some point (around 5~6 of 7) were are supposed to attack and form a break with our 4 riders who already have points and myself. My job then becomes to a) drive the break and/or b) shed the unwanted cargo.

Pretty ambitious, non?

Here's how it played out:

22 August 2009

Went to the front at the gun to string things out. All the newbs, who were supposed to be there, were nowhere to be seen. Some of the other team mates contributed and then our team "captain' (yup, you heard me right, 'captain' - this guy was offered the role as a joke during a team meeting and he took the job) goes on a flyer.

Not quite the plan (the one he helped create) but we adapt. He's joined by another guy and we watch. Then two of our puppies go to the front and pick up the pace. I yell at them and they skulk to the back again.

Second lap and our guy goes as originally planned. He's joined by another and we watch again. Attacks start as it becomes clear that everyone wants a piece of this action. I also figure out who is marking me - everyone! Any move I make draws an immediate response from the entire group. Sucks to be me.

So there are a series of attacks, bridges, counters etc and it becomes clear that it's going to be tough to get a break to stick. The good thing is we are shedding riders and now we are down to about 25 guys. The bad news is we all know each other far too well.

Finally, there are 3 team mates and another guy up the road and I surprise the group and get a gap. I work across to the break and then we are joined by two other riders. We are 7 being chased by 15 or 16 guys. We get an echelon going and I think this move should stick...but 1/2 lap later it doesn't.

Counter, counter and the pace is way up again.

Then I flat.

Crap.

I look behind and there is no neutral bike. Nothing. I turn around, ride 2 km back to the start, borrow a wheel and chase.

And chase and chase and chase, throw up a little in my mouth, and chase some more until the bell lap. I've clawed back a little time but the gap is way too large. I was hoping to catch the back markers but all I caught were a couple of lone riders who were spit out at some point. Neither one can work with me or even hold on for more than a km or two. They are cooked and I'm on my way to joining them in CookedVille.

Coming into the bell lap I do something I almost never do. I stop. I DNF.

Even when I get shelled, no matter how bad, I finish up. Here I just decide that it is too hot (It was REALLY HOT) and that there is absolutely no reason for me to keep going. If I stop I can at least see the finish of the race.

So I stop. I hand over my number. I prop my bike against the van, I rinse my face and try to smile for whoever this guy with the camera is. I also make sure I am still wearing the new glasses I got that morning from our new eyewear sponsor - XForce.

Here's the kicker.

In found myself in the weird position recently of defending the UCI. My point was that they set regulations for races and, good or bad, you know how everything works, where to go and what to do.

As I am sitting there waiting for the finish I see a neutral wheel bike pull up. WTF!!! Where the hell was this guy when I flatted? I seems that he thought it was too hot (here I can empathize - it was HOT) so he decided to just sit under a tree with the wheels and if we had a problem we could just go there. Of course he didn't tell anybody - he just decided this on his own.

Did I mention that this was a circuit race - not a crit? The funny thing is he was sitting under a tree only a few hundred yards up the road from where I flatted. I never saw him and, if I had, I never would have guessed that he was the 'official' neutral wheel guy and I could get a wheel from him. I doubled back at least 2 km to the start, explained that I needed a wheel, changed it myself and then chased my brains out.

So, my team mate won the sprint from a break, we qualified at least 6 of our riders and I got a pretty decent workout.

The plan worked pretty much as we wanted with the some adaptations on the way. We knew we wanted to shell riders early and win from a break and we did. We qualified most of the guys we wanted to so, as a team effort, it was successful.

I've decided to take tomorrow off as I am going to drink many wobbly pops tonight.

I think this was one of those times when the bear ate me.

Race Report - 14 June 2009

There's nothing in the rule book that says an elephant can't pitch.

I love racing in the rain as long as it's not a crit.

So many people just shut down. They just don't have the heart. In fact if its going to rain I want thunder and hail and wind and blinding rain. Locusts are a bit over the top, though.

Today was 102km of flat, flat flat road. I think the undulations accounted for less that 200m in elevation gain for the entire day.

As usual the communication with my team was...awry. I was reg'd in my age cat. I usually ride Elite (with the rest of my team) but today I was on my own. All the age groups started together so we were several hundred riders on the line.

From the gun I went to the front and cranked it up. I didn't want anyone around me who couldn't hold a line. A few guys contributed and after 20km or so the group was down to 50-60 mixed cat riders. Mission accomplished.

Then we slipped into the usual negative racing; No one wanted to work but everyone would chase. It makes me crazy.

The course was an out and back course on a section of closed highway. We started a few km from one turnaround rode out to the first turnaround and then past the start point to the get to second turnaround. No two laps were exactly the same length. It was kind of weird.
The turnarounds were on-off ramps at either end.

After trying to keep the pace up and a few attacks that saw the entire field chasing me I decided to sit in for a bit, eat some food and go again at the 45km turn around point.

As we went up the on ramp back onto the highway I jumped. It wasn't an out of the saddle jump I just sat and wound it up. I was hoping to get a gap and then to have some guys finally come across to me a while later.

I got my gap and settled in.

I rode and rode and rode.

When I finally looked back I was alone. The race was gone. It was just me and the lead moto and some wet, rainy pavement. I put my head down.

15km later I started to catch dropped riders from the Elite race that left several minutes before us. I fixed my eyes on them and drove. As I came up on them I'd slow for a few seconds, sit in their draft and try to recover for a moment. Then I'd turn it on again.

Once we reached the turnaround I realized that no one was working across to me. Since I was racing alone (with out a radio) this was a bit of a surprise. Back up onto the highway and I settled in and then the group went past me on the other side. I had slightly over a minute with 35km of headwind and rain and then the turnaround and 5km of tailwind back to the finish.

This didn't look so good.

Damn. I'm going to get sucked in and then I'm going to be cooked for the hairy sprint that will inevitably follow. Some guy who has sucked wheel all day will take this one.

Crap.

I'd noticed that the lead moto (well a 150cc motorscooter actually) wasn't being all that careful with his placement on the road. I moved up so that I was getting a tiny bit of cross draft from him. My speed went up about 1kph.

Huh.

I also noticed that he was wearing the uniform of one of the teams that was chasing me. Shaved legs, too? This guy was a rider.

I slipped a little closer to the bike. He didn't move. I pushed it and got closer. He saw me in his mirror and turned the throttle a little bit. He pulled away but I was still getting some draft. I nailed it and got right on him. He turned the throttle again but we were only going 50kph. I could sit in this no problem.

I sat on this moto for a solid 5km. I increased my gap and got a bit of recovery. Then I slipped off him again and back into the wind.

I've always been told that it is his responsibility to not get in my way or to place his moto or drive in such a manner as to affect the outcome of the race. Yet, here he had allowed me to draft him while his team chased behind.

Huh.

Back in the wind I managed to keep it up until I was just a few km before the final turnaround. I thought I was cooked. My power dropped off sharply and my speed went way down. I was out of gas. I hadn't eaten enough for this kind of effort (I was in the 950 cal/hr range).

I ground it out until I finally reached the last turnaround (the spot where I'd attacked). Down, around and back up onto the highway. 5km to go and a tailwaind. At 4km to go I passed the group going the other way. I had a 2km lead with 4 to go. Nothing to stop me now except a complete bonk or a puncture.

A Puncture?

I was raining. Punctures are far more likely in the rain...a puncture...a puncture...puncture...punc...just keep the speed up...if I just hold the low 40's they'd have to be going over 60 to catch me at the line. Is that right? I can never do that math.

3 to go. The moto guy just showed me 3 to go. I saw the sign though but thanks for the heads up moto guy.

Man I'm cooked. I'm going to eat everything in the team car.

2.5 to go. Anyone behind me? Was I right about the gap I had? What if it was only 1km? How fast would they have to go to get me at the line?

I can never do the math.

2 to go.

No one there.

Head down, eyes up and keep the legs turning.

Hey, I can see the finish banner and the people.

Look back. No one there.

1km to go.

No one there.

I see some dropped riders from the Elite race rolling across the line. I don't want them in the picture. Ease off a tad so I can roll in alone.

500m.

Zip up. Pull the jersey down. Is it the arms in the air? Blowing kisses? The number one? Or the point at the sponsors logo?

I'll decide at the line.

100m.

50m. Sit up. It's almost done.

God I'm cooked.

Hey! Who's this jitbag on my wheel?!

Crap!

Oh...hang on. He's one of the dropped guys from the other race.

Cross the line. I go with the "Point at the Sponsor's Logo".

Damn, the jitbag spoiled the picture.

Spontaneous Human Construction.

I once made a quip to a friend that he could name any time on any day in the next 6 months and I could tell him exactly where I'd be and precisely what I'd be doing.

He did and I could.

I was only a little surprised by this. My friend thought I was making it up as I went along but he has since come to realize that I was being completely honest.

I have a tight schedule. It's true. To do all the things I want and need to do there is no other way. I have a steady contract job for 30hrs a week, a consulting job for another 10, a small business, a wife, a step daughter and a 2 year old. I also race my bike from time to time, play poker, eat too much good food, drink too much good wine and sleep too little.

The only way to manage this is to construct my life in such a way as to have clearly delineated blocks of time devoted to specific activities or serving certain functions. From x to x I train. I have 60 minutes to shower, shave, eat and be on my way to my next activity. Once that is done I have 30 minutes to have coffee at the local caffeine hut with some fellow addicts and then I have 3 hours where I do something else specific. On on and on.

So is this a good thing or a bad thing? Am I being efficient with my time or does my life lack any spontaneity? I guess it is a glass half full or glass half empty question.

I know one thing, you can't mix the two.

To train properly requires structure and discipline. It's pretty tricky to sustain this if the rest of your life is a mess. I know I can't do it. If I'm not fairly organized in my life and how I approach all of the things that I do then that spills over into my training. If I have a decent handle on my life then the training structure seems to fall into place.

But does this mean that all spontaneity has to go? Isn't there any wiggle room here? I've never been successful at planning time to be spontaneous. It just never works out.

Maybe I'm painting too grim a picture here. Maybe there is spontaneity in my life after all but it's simply taken on a different form that it had when I was a twenty-something.

When I was a swinging dick I could pile into a car with a buddy and drive half way across the county with $100 in my pocket and then hitch-hike home. That was pretty spontaneous.

When it was summer and I was young I could decide to not get up from the my sandy, well molded plot of sand on the beach, and to have another cold one instead and to go to class...tomorrow.

When the music was right and we were feeling alright I could choose the brunette over the blonde. That would be pretty spontaneous.

But that was spontaneity when I was young.

Things are a little different now.

Now I can choose to turn left instead of right on my Tuesday ride. I can choose to do 1 minute or 5 minute intervals. I can choose orange or lemon stuff to put in my water bottle.

Or I can spend ANY amount of time with my son. When you spend time with a 2 year old it's pretty hard to lay down any concrete plans. He likes to play baseball with daddy, or basketball with daddy or soccer with daddy or some kind of baseketsoccerpuzzleduckykickrunfalldownball with daddy. The few hours I get to play with him most every day are probably the most spontaneous of my adult life.

I can also choose what restaurant to go to with my wife (actually I can suggest but she can choose). I can also choose to order pizza or cook a nice meal at home.

I can choose which Japanese beer, French wine or Russian vodka will accompany me to our weekly poker game. I can even choose to play sober and maybe win some money. Heck, I can even decide to stay home!

Looked at this way, realizing that perhaps I was mistaking spontaneity with a lack of responsibility, helps me whenever I feel that the repercussions of just ditching whatever else I've got going on that day and pissing into the wind would be just too great.

I've come to realize that the time I've blocked in over the next few hours to do something that I'm not all that thrilled about affords me the time that I've blocked in to do things that are a benefit to those I care about or are things I truly enjoy.

Maybe having a family, two jobs, a start up and racing my bike isn't a jam packed, tied down, responsibility laden life but is a full, balls to the wall, getting something out of every minute lifestyle that leads somewhere.

Oh perspective how I love you.

And now we dance!

Pindung County - 28 Feb 2008

This was my first race back and my first race with my new team: CKT. I will start another thread about my new frame later.

And now a word from our sponsor: It's the all new EXCUSE-O-MATIC! No matter what the occasion just thwack the dial and the all new EXCUSE-O-MATIC will spit out a totally useful excuse for you.*

*Not suitable for all ages.

I've been working my arse off for the last 2 weeks and my training has suffered. I knew this going in so adjusted my goals. Results weren't important. I wanted to define roles and execute tactics. I also like to sell swampland in Florida.

The race was a breezy affair. There was a 94km (shortened?) section of gentle rollers and flat flats followed by a 16km climb with tons of pitches above 10%. The latter part was certainly not designed with me in mind. (Unless it was designed by my wife to torture me).

All of the cats started together (it was a point-to-point) so there were over 600 riders. I staged late and so had to start near the back. During the neutral I managed to work my way to the very front where I had a short time to catch up with an old team mate. Then the lead motos pulled off and we were racing.

I always need a good hard jump to open my legs and today was no exception. At 2km in I saw another former team mate jump and so I decided to bridge. This I did, then we both sat up and now we had a brief chance to catch up before we were swamped by the group.

He told me he'd gone to Singapore to have some surgery done on his knee and today was the first test. He then told me he was going to drop out before the climb so I shouldn't follow him. I then asked him what the hell made him ever think I would try to follow him on a climb. We laughed. We cried. Good times.

Because the course was so unfavourable to me and all the cats were racing together, I told my team mates that I would do what I could to keep the group together so they could sit in and fight for a podium spot on the climb. This is what I set about doing.

There was a series of attacks which produced a series of doomed breaks. The Tiachung County team was controlling the front pretty well. But then one of their guys would go in a move and they would have 4 guys at the front setting false tempo. I watched a few breaks start to roll away from us and each time I got to the front and put my head down.

I selected a 13-26 because of the climbing. I found myself spun out as we maintained 50km/h+ on the flats and I topped out at 59km/h. I know exactly when this happened because I had spun out my 13. I actually wanted my 12. Who'd a thunk it?

This went on until we hit the bottom of the climb and the road pitched up above 10%. I fought to hang on but I eventually popped. I struggled to hang on but felt like I was sliding backwards as rider after rider I hadn't seen all day rode away from me.

I finished mid-fodder. At least I never saw the back marker.

I probably could have done better on the climb if I'd sat in (maybe main fodder group) but it really wouldn't have done much for me. I had one team mate who was second in his cat, another 4th and a third was 6th. We also lost one rider to a crash.

All in all it was exactly what a first race should be. I was active at the front, got some good jersey time (although a camera truck almost took us all down when the driver decided it would make a better shot if he switched from the right side of the road to the left while he was 5 feet in front of the lead rider. Idjit.) and got a good idea of what I have in the tank. I can now adjust my training accordingly.

Time: 2:32
NP: 296
Max HR: I may have discovered a new high (208?) but I think it was interference from some Taiwan Radar jamming station pointing at a mainland Chinese fighter buzzing their airspace.
Result: I don't think they have numbers that go that high in Chinese.

The Call

Let's just start by backing the truck up a bit here.

I stopped racing in late 2007. Stopped riding soon after that. Early 2008 I was going crazy and decided I wanted to start racing again.

I started training, got injured, got sick or had real life get in the way. Rinse, repeat. 2008 was a write off. But I had base.

Enter 2009. Consistent training over a few months and starting to feel a little frisky on my last few rides and at the last training race.

A regular job, a start up, a family and a nasty cycling habit makes for a pretty tight schedule. But there are times when things are ticking along nice and steady.

Then there's the call.

It took me back to the call I received when my father was dying. It was early afternoon and I was getting ready for a ride. I was on the next plane, taking off, 6 hours later. I traveled 24 hours straight to get to my father. He died when we were in the car leaving the airport on our way to the hospital.

The last time I touched my father's hand it was already cold.

This is what I thought of when the owner of the small company for which I work told me had had received the call last night and could I cover for him if he really needed to go home.

"Of Course."

I have a new team for 2009 and although it is a rather rag-tag bunch there are a few riders I like. I also I think I may actually see two diamonds who currently ride like coal. It could be possible to cook this unruly group down to 6 core riders for 2010.

There is a race in 3 weeks that suits my skills more than my fitness. This is good. The first 100km are rolling and flat and a bit technical. Then there is a 14 climb. Ok. So I'm out. But, there is another rider on our team who is riding well and is pretty smart.

I want to work to keep the tempo up (actually get others to do it for me) and then place him in the lower section of the climb. After that he needs help from someone else on the team or he's on his own.

It's early season so the real goal is to execute tactics. ANY tactics, as a group. A good result would be a plus but cohesion is the first step.

I've worked for a lot of people and I can't say it's been very often that I've truly liked the people I was working for. I think I'm very fortunate to consider my employer to also be my friend. And this was a friend who just got the call.

My father was sick for years. The doctors had him so heavily medicated and cross medicated that he would sleep away most of the day in naps or sometimes only get up to eat and watch a little TV. There were several things wrong with him but nothing that was terminal or immanent.

Once I was older and no longer lived in the same city as my family if the phone rang late at night this was the thought that jarred me from sleep. When I finally did receive the call it was daytime and it had pretty much the opposite effect; Everything that followed, for days, felt like a dream. They kept telling me that this was normal and it happened to a lot of people.

"Ok."

And then I was back home and back on the schedule and half a world away.

I remember seeing footage of Delgado climbing off of his bike while in yellow and getting into his team car. His mother had died and he just couldn't go on.

Even for the man in yellow real life gets in the way.

I saw a bit of all that in my friends eyes reflected back at me when he asked me if I could put in some extra time so he could go home: If he really had to.

"Of course."

The race will still happen. I will still go. I may have to hide in the bunch a bit more. Especially in the second 50km. We haven't raced together as a group but we should be able to place our guy in the front group when the selection happens if I can get one or two of the other team mates to pitch in when I ask them. If we can execute it will be a good start to a new season.

I've always felt that jumping right back in is good. It gets things going again. Gets the head back in the game. How you do is not so important.

The thing I remember the clearest was the strap in my hand and that when we were told to lower the casket I couldn't. I knew I was supposed to but my hands wouldn't unclench. My uncles and the funeral director had began to let the straps slide through their hands, and my fathers' casket inched its' way away from me, but my hands wouldn't let go. No matter how hard I tried and for the briefest of moments I could not let go.

Then a shallow breath and my grip slackened.

Results don't matter for this one.

My Epic Sunday Ride.

The weather has been cold, windy and wet for weeks. There has been some decent riding but lots of misery, too.

The plan was to ride from home on Saturday, drive out to the in-laws Saturday night and ride 5.5hrs in the mountains on Sunday. The weather was shaping up to be great. I'd been off the bike for a bit and I really wanted to ride.

I did 3 hours from home on Saturday as planned. I'd been sick for a few weeks and had actually dropped some weight in the process. Not my original strategy but I'd take it. I was worried I'd feel the time off and that the infection might still be lingering. I felt a lot better than expected.

I knew the next day would be a harder ride so I held back a few times when all I really wanted to do was crank it up and see how long I could put out some juice. I wanted to know what was in the tank. I did a few jumps and a couple of 5min pieces but mostly solid, steady tempo. I was still itching when I got off the bike.

Went to lunch with the family, watched SpongeBob and was in bed by 8:00.

Brilliant sleep. I woke up at 8:00am and wrestled with my son while we ate breakfast. I filled some water bottles and pumped my tires. I went to the bedroom where I had all my kit laid out and then out onto the balcony to make my final clothing choices.

Wow. All the recent high winds and rain had cleared the air and the sky was deep, cloudless and blue. I could see two ranges in in the direction I was headed. It was 22*C and the flags were limp, with an occasional twitter just to let you know they were there. This was going to be epic.

Final clothing choices made (and accounting for at least 2, 15 minutes descents and 1, 30 min+ descent with altitude) I sprang into the bedroom. I laid out the Power Meter, HR strap, Powerbars, ipod, phone, apple, shoes, socks, vest, leg and knee warmers, shorts...shorts?...SHORTS!... AND JERSEY!

Damn.

I fumed.

I ate the apple.

I packed up my crap and carried my bag to the door. I put on my shoes. Then I picked up my son and handed him his ball and we went to the park.

We played soccer (this kid can run with a ball!), some basket ball, a game where he threw the ball down the court, chased it, then he picked it up and I had to carry him to the hoop and we watched some bigger boys play baseball.

Then we went to Toys'R'Us and I bought the first Christmas gift of the season.

I had a great ride on Sunday. Epic ride.

The Quest of Bob Dopolina

The following is a condensed version of THE LEGEND OF BOB DOPOLINA - THE MAN, THE BIKE, THE QUEST. soon to be available on Bantham Books.

Although his exact origins remain shrouded in mystery, biographers generally agree that Bob Dopolina started out fixing flats and counting spokes some time in the early eighties in a very busy bike shop in the wilds of Canada. Once he had proven himself to be the best flat fixer and spoke counter imaginable he was taken under the wing of a former Irish National Team rider turned shop Manager named Seamus Gantley.

Seamus taught him how to wrench, curse, drink and generally annoy the boss. Bob was a fast learner. A few short years later Bob was running his own bike build crew and was eventually promoted to head mechanic supervising 6 poor souls in a shop that grossed nearly 10 million a year, from a single location, in the mid-eighties. No small feat.

Eventually Bob moved on and found himself working for another bike shop with a Shop Manager who's knowledge of the dark side of the wrench was second to none. (NOTE: In some circles there is speculation that this second mentor was a mysterious man named Andy Bedlam but this is still in dispute) Not much is known of this second mentor to Bob only that his brother had a beard and he rode the only Carbon Vitus never to have failed. It is rumoured that it was he who, during a particularily long and blustery winter, while logging endless base miles, passed on to Bob all the bike VooDoo known to man.

Several years later, after a particular bad day building no less than 30 Sidewalk Angels, a task that all who knew and now feared Bob agreed was well beneath Bob's ever more powerful abilities, Bob had a vision that would change his life;. Bob decided it was time to set out on his own.

He summoned up the courage and broke free of his mentor. He sold all of his worldly possesions except his bikes, his books and his music. He stuffed what remained of his previous life inside a 1988 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royal that pointed west. Within a scant 72 hours he had traveled to the other side of that vast, frozen expanse of wilderness known as Canada to become a Shop Manager in his own right. This shop was a high end, high profile deal that catered to Freds and World Champions alike. Here Bob Thrived.

It was at about this time that Bob also came into his own as a racer. Surviving a serious injury he eventually claimed a National Championship of his own. But Bob was not satisfied.

In true Bob Dopolina fashion he set out in search of bigger challenges this time travelling half way around the world to the land of bikes and Bin Lan - Taiwan. Here he quickly established a new Elite Team, began product testing for several high profile bike companies and generally had a good time. His wrenching experience and product knowledge led him to become the Manager of the Campagnolo Service Center for Taiwan, China, Hong Kong and Vietnem. He worked with OE factories in support of Campagnolo and Continental AG. He was responsible for handling warrantiy claims for 14 different brands. But still Bob yearned for more. It was time for the next chapter in the saga of Bob Dopolina to begin.

Bob did the only thing he could do; He opened his own company -The BDop Cycling Company - and began sourcing products manufactured in Taiwan for OE and aftermarket customers. He also began selling consumer direct to North America, Europe and Oceana. And he saw that it was good.

Bob continues on his quest to this day.

Bike racing is still fun! Who'da Thunk it?

Found out on Wednesday that I had been registered for a race the following Saturday (damn, I've been busy). A short, flat circuit race and I was racing in my age category. All right, I thunk, what the hell. I'll go.

Then I remembered that my wife would still be away so it was me and my 20 month old son all week. What the heck, he'd go with me. The wives/girlfriends could look after him during the race (he loves the ladies) and it would be his first bike race.

All good.

Then I woke up really tired, had to get us both ready and drive an hour and a half to the race. I felt a bit of trepidation because of my last race (http://oldguyracer.blogspot.com/2008/05/alishan-race-18-may-2008.html) and being a bit worried about dragging my son around all day. He is bike crazy and I knew it would be a lot of work. But I soldiered on.

The race was a mix of all the masters cats (from 30 years old and up). There was one former track pro now in his mid 60's. That was kinda cool. Once we were staged I looked around and recognized a few riders and some of the bigger teams.

This race was nice because it was tied in with several other events schedules throughout the weekend in this SMALL town and there were a lot of spectators all around the course. The finish was 3 deep. That is always cool.

I am riding for this club which is basically most of the guys I've been training with and some of their friends. They reg'd me and tossed me a jersey to wear. They keep changing sponsors as they can't seem to get anyone to commit to (and honour) the sponsorship agreements. They ink jerseys and then, 2 months later, there's another jersey. I still don't know what the name of the team I was riding for is...

Bang and we're off. It's 4 laps and we decided to let the team with 6 guys play their hand for the first 2 laps. They're usually a strong and aggressive team so I wanted to let them do some extra work and see if they really could control the race. Having the biggest team doesn't mean you can control things. That is a skill. I wanted to see if they had it or not.

The best laid plans of mice and men...4 km into the race one of my team mates decides that the plan is out the window and he jumps. When he is reeled in the other guy goes (there's really only 3 of us to mix it up). So then I take my turn (which seems to be the new plan).

My first 2 jumps felt sluggish. I could hold good speed but I had no snap. I found it really hard to jump away from the group. The next few felt better but I knew I didn't have that kind of snap today. This meant I could offer a solid lead-out to our sprinter or look for a break.

We continued attacking the race. A few laps of this and the field was thinner, the team with 6 riders never got a chance to play any card and we were at the bell.

The course started out along a 2-3 km long steel girder bridge that, I guess, was really old, recently restored and the reason why we were racing on it. It stretched across a very wide river, was totally exposed and had a nasty cross-head wind. At least the surface was good.

Then a quick right, up an on-ramp and onto a closed section of the hi-way and a cross-tailwind that saw me jump over 60km/h, repeatedly. Coming off the highway there was a sharp right that dropped down, slightly off camber, off the hi-way bridge onto a wee gravely road. 50m after that was another hard right corner and then into the last 1.5km that was a dog-leg shaped wind tunnel. Right in your face to the finish.

Each lap I made sure I lead through these turns and I kept ramping it up a notch further every time. Just testing. I knew this would be the only place where I could get the kind of gap I needed that my legs weren't going to give me otherwise.

Going onto the hi-way bridge, the last time, I had a team mate up the road in a 4 man break. The group was slowly bringing it back and I wasn't sure if they could hold it to the end. They were getting awfully close...

As we got near to the end of the bridge I had another team mate on the front setting a false tempo and, knowing the line I was going to set through these corners was going to be TIGHT and FAST, I told him to hold the pace steady.

I did a false attacked about 1.5 km before the end of the bridge to see if I was being marked. Sure enough there are 4 guys from the same team on my wheel when I look back. I soft pedalled and looked at their faces for the right moment. Then I attacked for real just before the corners.. I held good speed and my tires stuck. Then I had to bridge into the nasty head wind.

Luckily the break had taken it easy through the corners as they didn't want to crash out in the last few kms. This gave me some extra speed coming out of the corners and I was able to catch them just as we passed the 1km to go point.

As they set up for the sprint I knew who's wheel to grab (the team mate). We had talked about the sprint before the race and I knew just how he was going to play it and how far out. I rolled onto his wheel just as he got up to sprint. He rolled across the line sitting up, I was a bike length behind him and there was open road behind me.

I was second.

But wait a minute! Hold the phone! I totally forgot about the age category thing! I won. Yipee!

All in all a small race but it was good to get back and get my head in a race for a while. I just wish I was feeling better.

It also gave me an indication of where my fitness is and what I need to work on now.

Bike racing is still fun.