Finding Form
For cyclists who live in true 4-season climates, cycling is not a year round sport. Fall comes, the snow flies and the bike is traded for skis. As a competitive ski mountaineering racer, my training focus shifts to skiing as soon as it starts getting cold and the white stuff appears on the high peaks. The roller skis get some use and I start looking forward to the first race in December. What this means is that the high level of cycling fitness obtained during the season is essentially abandoned for other things until the focus is renewed in the spring. At that point, the long journey begins again.
For cyclists who ride all year, this is a journey they will never take. Even if they decrease their volume in the fall to take a pseudo break, they never really know what it's like to start from scratch. For us northern dwellers, the journey from no legs to race winning legs is an annual one. I hate the start of the journey but love that moment when I suddenly feel like I can push and push hard. It seems odd to describe that realization as something that happens suddenly but it does seem to happen that way. Usually it's during a single race or ride where the transition is noticed.
And what a feeling it is. For me, it happened during a 180 km ride a month or so ago. Now, I was winning races before that day but the sensations I had during this long ride were different and heralded the arrival of what I was looking for. I didn't notice it until late in the ride when I should have been fading heading home into a stiff headwind. My partner that day was game for the distance but under-trained due to his fondness for Costa Rican surf early in the season. I knew he was digging a bit to go the distance and I could not help upping the pace during my pulls, testing me as much as him. I gleefully grabbed gears and steadily increased my speed as I realized my quads could answer the demand for more power from the engine room. This demand would not have meant much on a 2 hour ride but at the end of 6 it was very meaningful and told me what I needed to know about the direction my training was heading.
So, clearly the endurance end of things was proceeding as hoped. This was something I was putting in the bank for a very specific test in September, the Logan to Jackson road race. This 209 mile test will be the culmination of all the long training rides and the zenith of a season-long missile shot of commitment to an endurance-base training philosophy revealed in these pages. But what about the other end of things? I have already stated that most road races are not won with superior endurance but rather formidable speed and power. Well, I have certainly not been neglecting those components and recent results prove it.
The one race I waited for all winter as my coming out party was the Utah state championship road race, the Little Mountain Road Race. This was my first race last year after 10 years off the bike. I got thoroughly spanked, getting dropped each of the 3 times up the nasty little climb and limping in in the third group. Ouch! I trained all winter and spring with that debut on my mind. When the day came, I had already been tested in other races but I was still nervous about how things would shake out. The same guys were there as last year so I would have a familiar bench mark. Well, the first time up that hill told the tale as I led the group over the top. Another question answered. The race continued that way for each of the 3 laps and I tried to draw others out but they sat en masse, waiting for the finish. Master's racing has a negative component to it that is hard to fight sometimes. A familiar competitor got the jump on me in the sprint and I was unable to come around but I was mostly satisfied with second. I was miles ahead of the third group.
There were a few crits in the weeks that followed that proved good barometers for my speed. I won the Hailey crit in the master division off the front for 10 laps winning a bunch of money in the process. I did the Pro,1,2 race afterwards, feeling good still and taking a prime and fourth overall. The Boise Twilight crit was a bit of a bust in the Category 2 event with 105+ degree heat during the event. The pace was slow and the whole thing came down to the last half lap when it went ape shit. I was on the wrong side of the road when the sprint went and ended up 11th.
I felt better in the cooler air of the next morning for the Idaho State Crit Race. I did the 45+ event, feeling like I could win it. I won all the primes but we got caught sleeping in the last kilometer when one guy took off and held it while several of us watched each other. I won the sprint for second.
The Tour of Bozeman proved to be a good test. I was able to secure a set of good time trial wheels for the 10 mile opening event, finishing first in the Masters B race and third out of all the Masters. For some reason they slotted me into the B's not knowing much about me when they looked at my on-line registration. I did not realize I was in the B's until the TT results were posted. I complained, feeling like a sand bagger but the referee did not want to screw with the results now that the event had started. I sheepishly continued.
The second stage was sort of stupid. It was a 300m head to head sprint down main street. Lots of standing around for not much racing. It was hard to get excited about it. I ended up 4th. The final road race stage was super cool with plenty of climbing. I felt like it would be a good test for me, if not a little short at 45 miles. It was an out and back affair and I had scoped out the finish the day before. I was able to get off the front after bridging to a lone escapee 20 km from the finish. I rode with him until the real climbing started and then headed out alone. I won easily, 3 or 4 minutes ahead the pack, with that uniquely satisfying feeling of a solo win. The win secured my overall victory in the omnium.
Next up was another weekend of speed with the Alan Butler crit in Idaho Falls and the Jackson crit here at home. I really wanted the win in the Masters race at Alan Butler. Unfortunately, another lone attack near the end by a very fast guy put that desire in jeopardy. With two other teammates in the race I got the wild idea to close the 20 second gap myself and let the others sort out the finish. I certainly did not see anyone else stepping up to do it and we only had two laps to go. I brought the remaining half dozen contenders to within 10 meters with less than a full lap to go. Much to my dismay, in spite of being handed off onto the wheel of a guy who just spent a couple of laps alone going full gas, my fellow riders were unable to capitalize on the opportunity and were beaten in the finish. I was dejected.
The following day, we had several races in Jackson on a fun circuit. The fields were small but the racing was pretty lively. For whatever reason, my speed was fully engaged that day and I could not be beaten to the line by anyone taking me on head to head. It was a cool feeling to have it come together like that. I won the Masters event going away. Once again, however, in the Pro,1,2 event, a lone escapee made a bid several laps before the end and an apathetic pack let him go. He established enough of a gap and there were too few willing to chase. In the end, he won in proud fashion and I easily took the sprint for second.
So, with about a month to go before the longest road race of my life, the form seems to be coming around nicely. My training goal now is to get some longer rides in to further reinforce the endurance base developed thus far. The next post will cover this next foray into volume expansion. - Brian
Reader Comments (1)
This is really great stuff on here Brian, appreciate all the posts.