Category Archives: Racing

Successes and Setbacks

It’s been an amazing season. Took a while to come back from breaking my wrist on the rocket ride back on February, but once I found my grove things were going well. My mileage is way down on where I had hoped to be, but it happens.

I finished my first ever race back at the Rahway crit. Got shelled hard at the Giro del Cielo road race and crit. Crashed out with one to go the first week I raced at Rockleigh, only to take a flyer off the front with 1.5 laps to go the week after. That feeling, with people screaming at you to keep going, having 5-7 seconds on everyone and thinking “maybe, maybe if I can hang on a little longer…” is unlike anything else in this world. I was even greeted to a round of applause when I crossed the line, dead fucking last, but I gave them a good show!  Got my cat 4 upgrade, finally.

Having a baby, or at least my wife is, so things are going to get complicated, but awesome. Was planning on making August and September big racing and training months before I packed it away for the remainder of the season and welcomed the kid into our lives. Crashed hard on Tuesday during our small ring paceline ride, and won’t be back on the bike until mid August. It happens — it sucks, but it happens.  I feel bad for the other riders who I managed to take down with me, one with a concussion who got carted away in an ambulance, another hitting the deck and cracking a helmet (though no concussion, thankfully).  I suffered some road rash and a trip to the orthopedic confirmed a sprained MCL.

I’ll have fresh legs when I come back, though, and I’ll be full of pent up aggression. Can still squeeze a prospect park race in, and thinking about doing the white plains crit. I’ll race a few more times before the baby comes, and then, well, we’ll see how much anything else matters.


I feel the roads in my legs…

I broke my wrist a few weeks ago, as it would be, the week before I would have started racing this season.  I spent the cold winter months locked on the trainer, focused, confident in my strength, that it was going to be a good start to the spring.  I had started to realize my potential, started realizing my ability to suffer, to dig, to fight.

And it’s pushed off because I stupidly broke my wrist.

But I still feel the roads in my legs.  I’ll drive the rides I want to ride and my quads will tighten, my calves will pulse, my heartbeat will speed up.  I can feel every short climb I’ve done on the Saturday morning World Championship’s course.  I can feel the accelerations of the Rocket Ride.  I can feel the roads deep inside my body, inside my soul, attached to them in some spiritual way.  Riding, training, racing — it’s like going to church.  It’s a set of guidelines that I live by, my body only an engine to push the bicycle as hard and fast as I can.  Rapha imprints on their PRO clothing “Forcats De La Route” — Prisoner’s of the Road.

I’m not upset about the wrist because I feel like I’m losing my fitness.  I still get on the trainer, albeit begrudgingly, and not as much as I would like, but my fitness is still there.  I’m upset about the wrist because I can’t pour myself out over the road, I can’t leave my trail of sweat on the routes I know so well.  I can’t be out there in the pack, the hum of the freewheels, the clicks of the derailluers, the squeal of mal-adjusted brake pads.  I have to make penance for the other things in my life, I need to cleanse myself, I need to leave it all out on the road.

So I drive these routes, sometimes intentionally, others not, and I feel the roads in my legs.


Marathon Running and “Why I can’t race without being asked: Did you finish? How long was it?”

I want to take a moment and preface today’s post/thoughts/ramblings.  There are two very different sorts of events in ‘endurance sports’ like cycling and running.  There are ‘short’ races where there is a small(ish) field, where it’s an all out, balls to the wall event, and then there are longer events that take more time, more strategy, and more endurance, like marathons (in running) and centuries (in cycling) and ironman length triathlons (in that weird sport that I don’t want to do ever again).  This post is more about outlining the differences, and my own personal experiences in participating in the two different types of events or races.  There are things that you do with twenty-thousand people that are technically called a race, but more important is the ultimate goal of finishing and perhaps beating your best time, setting personal records.  Then there are things that you do with twenty people, where your chances of success (being defined as finishing in the top 3 spots) are increased invariably because of the size of the field being substantially less.  No offense meant to anyone, just trying to explain the difference (sorry if I come off as ‘Douchey’)

In the event you were living under a rock, or just anywhere outside the New York Metropolitan area, the ING New York City Marathon happened yesterday.  I want to state for the record that I admire marathoner’s, I really do, but I have a few gripes with what you do and how it somehow puts this image into everyone’s heads of what “Racing” is.

Bill Strickland, @TrueBS for those who don’t know, mentioned last week about the pacers in a marathon.  The people who run their marathon at X hours in order to keep things moving and on track.  He asked if it kept the real racing out of it, and I thought to myself — Is anyone really racing in a marathon?

A marathon is a great endurance event, and it sucks you dry, and you expel every ounce of your body into the pavement, but other than the top 10-15 in the world, who is actually racing?  Everyone is racing the clock, everyone who finishes will get their medal at the end, but are you holding off to out-sprint the person next to you for 10594th place?  A marathon, in essence, is a mass time-trial.  You’re racing the clock, where is the real “race?”  The only real race is sitting at the front, between a bunch of people from Kenya and maybe an American, sometimes a Jamaican.  These are the people who run for a living, that are getting the cash at the end of the day when they cross the line, making sure to mention their sponsors three or four times, and making their respective countries proud — but they’re not the one’s that most people think about when they consider marathoners. 

People think about the single mother of two who finds time to train every day and is running to try and finish under 4 hours.  They think about the guy, who on New Year’s Eve, said “this year is the year that I’m going to make a change in my life — Let me run the marathon!” and his goal is simply to finish. These people are great, but they destroy the term “racing” as far as my family is concerned.

With that — No one I know understands bike racing.  I go out to a race and I’m asked “so did you finish?”  “How far was it?”  “I don’t get it, how is done by time and not distance?”  The point of racing, bike racing, at least, is to finish before everyone else!  There’s 20 people around you, and you want to rip all of their legs off, one at a time.  It’s done by time because time is a constant — twenty miles might take longer than the sun is out, depending on how the pack feels.  The only part of the race that matters is the last 100 yards, where someone has hopefully left enough in his tank to out-sprint the guy next to him.  Marathons = Marathon Runners.  Bike Racing = Bike Racers.  Both great in their own regard, but both very, very different.  Not every bike race is a century, but it’s still an act of endurance. 

From here on out, folks, let’s try to equate the differences in racing.  Amatuer bike racing is akin to the 500m dash – short, all-out efforts, balls to the wall most of the time. Take that concept and measure it in time instead of distance.  “Hey we’re going to run around the track for 45 minutes and whoever finishes first wins.”  How far you went doesn’t matter — you just need to be the first to the line.   Sure, you’ll go further the longer the time, but at the end of the day, first wheel to cross the line wins. 

For the marathon runners — Keep running!  It’s awesome what you’re capable of doing.  I only got 18 miles the first time I attempted to run a marathon.  But the next time you get out there, keep your eye on one person and out-sprint them — they’ll probably shocked and apalled, but I’ll be stoked and cheering you on!!


A retrospective view

I have not been riding bonCourage, lately. That’s not to say that I haven’t since I last posted, in fact quite the contrary. It’s just over the past few weeks that I’ve felt lethargic, unmotivated, unwilling to get out of bed, turn on the lights, and roll out to watch the sunrise over the Hudson.

This was a big, great, fulfilling season for me that I feared would never get off the ground. My coach, my mentor, had a serious crash that took him out of the game and off the road for months. I feared the same fate, but I got over it. I, with my minimal fitness, embarked on as many Cat 5 races as I could muster. Did I do well? Not by the standards of points and rankings we all look at, but as far as personal accomplishment goes? Hell yeah, I did alright.

I didn’t hang with the 4/5 race once this year, but I think its more a matter of inexperience than inability. I’d give up too soon, I wouldn’t read the acceleration, and my God do I need to learn how to hammer through turn 1 at Rockleigh. But it’s good that I didn’t do well, for if I did how I would have liked I’d have fewer things to accomplish next year.

I still have some road season left, one (possibly two) races at Rockleigh next week, and possibly a big Prospect Park race October 2nd. Then I’m going to focus on cyclocross, see how I like it, see how it helps me build my fitness for next season.

What I can be proud of this year is summed up in a text message from a highly respected cyclist and shop owner: “Spanky you rode really well today. Thank johnny for pushing u a bit, but nonetheless a nice ride.”

What needs to change, however, is my current state of mind. I need to start riding bonCourage, for next season will be here before we know it.


Rockleigh Race Report, 07/28/2011

I’m going through and back-blogging some stuff.. don’t mind me.. nothing to see here..

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/102453430

19.88 miles 53:59 22.1mph

Didn’t set the auto lap, so I can’t say for sure where I blew up but it looks like it was after about 10-11 laps, eased up and waited for the group to come back around.  Went back in, hung out for a while at the back, knee started cramping, back started cramping, sat up after probably two more, pulled down the ramp and waited.  Got back on and ran it out to the end, bell lap surged, cramps kicking my ass, finally came unhinged one last time coming around corner three.

The race itself was 19 miles at 23mph.  I’m getting there!


Prospect Park Race Report, 07/23/2011

http://connect.garmin.com/activity/101105932

1:44:18, 29.07 miles, 16.8mph (overall)

Raced Prospect Park with Pietro this morning — an early morning starting with a 3:30 rise and shine to be at Peter’s house by 4-ish.  Into the car and away we go.  I had only enough time for a single practice lap and lined up with the other 5’s, and away we go. 

Right from the start I wasn’t right — I started coughing and trying to get something out of my lungs.  The entire ride up the hill as I’m fighting and fighting and coughing and coughing I become detached from the pack.  One other detached, in front of me, and once I take a minute and recover I’m on the chase.  I see them, no more than 25 yards out, and I’m pacing them, but I can’t seem to make up any time.  Take the descent as fast as I can manage, 35-some-odd mph, but to no avail.  Realizing that I wasn’t going to catch I rode within myself, and waited for them to catch me.  It wasn’t until my 4th lap that I was lapped, so I rolled in at the back of the pack and collected myself.

Did a few more laps while Pietro beat on the boys, few of the local Cosmic Wheel boys out in the 1-2-3 race.

Weight needs to keep coming down to deal with slight climbs like that one.  I’ll be back out there before the end of this season, I dig the circuit courses, like Branch Brook.


Rockleigh Race Report, 07/21/2011

Thursday : A hot and humid Rockleigh Crit
 
http://connect.garmin.com/activity/100814119
 
Suited up and headed out armed with six bottles and two 24 oz gatorades.  By the time the race started I was already down one gatorade and three bottles. Too hot to get a decent warm up in, so I just relaxed and stretched in the shade after about 2.5 miles.  Race started, I’m sitting in the front next to the yellow jersey on the neutral laps, and try and find my way to drop back a little so I have a wheel to hold.  Drop back about three wheels before the gun, and it goes hard from the start.  I start, as usual, losing ground in corner one, and am spent by the end of 3 hot laps.  I pull off and jump back in for three more, pull off and back in for three more, and finally get dropped one last time with two to go.  I sit up so I can hop back in for the finish, and I am SPENT.  Down a bottle of water on the recovery lap, dump one over my head, and start feeling a little light headed so I sit and recover on coach’s bumper, finally mustering the strength to get back to my car and start killing the second bottle of gatorade. 
 
HOT, HOT race.  Small field of only about 30, so I’ll comfort myself by believing that only the real men showed up to race tonight.
 
After I got home from the race I weighed myself and was two pounds heavier than I’ve been… Must have been all the water.


Realizing Your Potential

The events of two weeks shook me up, don’t get me wrong. Every week I’ve been going out to the Crit and watching the boys (and some girls) giving it their all — and at the risk of sounding like Ricky Bobby — I wanna go fast. I still want to race at the Rock. I want to mix it up realize some of the potential that’s sitting inside of me.

My father always quotes “A Bronx Tale”: The saddest thing in life is wasted talent.

I can’t say that I have any, not any natural talent, that is, but I’ve got heart. I know I’m not the fastest guy, but I can hang. I’ve improved so much over the past two years, I certainly have some potential.

I’ve always had the issue of allowing myself to accept mediocrity. I brought in okay grades. I work at an okay job. And then it clicked last night, when at the back of the pack, a rider shouted to another as he was dropping off the back fo the pack (and I’m paraphrasing here): “only average people give up! get back on!” I’d also heard him say something just before that about being extraordinary or something to the like, but the message was there — Don’t accept mediocrity. Give it your all, and it will pay dividends, if not what you’re doing, than at least as far as pride and personal achievement are concerned.

Ride hard out there. Ride bonCourage!


All Shook Up

I’ve been sitting in, waiting patiently while I get my fitness in order to start out my racing season at the Rockleigh Criterium.  I’ve been heading to the races, working as a Marshall, and wishing that I could be out there in the field, but knowing that I’m just not there yet. 

Last night a teammate was involved in a crash just before 1-to-go.  I had just turned away from the field when I heard the popping of tubes, carbon wheels, bones, or whatever it ended up being.  I had the sickening feeling that my teammate was wrapped up in it, and sure enough, he was.

Turns out a rider toward the front of the pack crossed wheels, and couldn’t recover.  He went down, and with the bunch accelerating for the last lap, took down a good portion of the main field with him.  It’s the first crash I’ve witnessed live — sure I’ve heard the war stories from other riders, but seeing my bud bleeding from his road rash, his bike looking, well, not so good, I started to have a gut check.  Do I really want to do this?  Do I really want to get involved in Crit racing? 

Other courses have felt safer to me than Rockleigh.  Branch Brook feels more open, even though the pavement is about as smooth as a pubescent teens face, with curbs lining the road.  The corners are easier, and in the one race I spent there, the pack seemed to be a little more spread apart.  But Branch Brook happens in March.  It’s over, and it’s a long time for it to come again. 

Do I suck it up and try to race Rockleigh?  Do I buckle down on my training and start training for longer, harder, more hilly road races?  I’m not sure what my plan is right now, but it’ll be a while before I look at the ‘Rock the same way.