… training ride. That is what I had at Pescadero on Saturday.
A quick review of the year leading up to this. I was just getting some traction in racing this season, with a good effort at the Rondee von Brisbeen Circuit Race on March 30th, then had my commuter tip-over accident on March 31st leaving me with a broken thumb. That meant no racing for the next 6 weeks and no real intensity workouts for much of that. Then one good crit (EBC) and a couple of good nights of track racing leading up to Memorial Day and a crash in the crit then. That was less than 3 weeks ago, and I was without my racing bike for two of those. The road rash has healed, but there is still some bruising in the lower left back region that is a limiter for really hard efforts. That sets the stage going into Friday. I deluded myself into thinking that despite the paucity of intensity training the past two-and-a-half months, and despite being still a bit sore from a crash 19 days before that I could hang with the pack … at least for the first lap (28 miles).
Friday night as I finished packing for the early Saturday start to Pescadero it became obvious that something in my gastrointestinal tract was not right. And that became more obvious through the night as it kept me awake for a good chunk of the time I should have been sleeping. I gave in and got out of bed at 4:30A, and was doing the internal debate as to whether to trek over the hills to the race or not. The severe cramping was subsiding, so a bit after 6A I figured ‘what the heck’ and we headed for Pescadero.
A slightly late start hitting the road and the need for an urgent pit stop in Woodside led to a later than ideal arrival at the Pescadero High School. After another urgent pit stop and a quick trip to the registration desk, I loaded the extra water bottles into The Wife’s saddle bag and sent her on her way to the feed zone about 16 miles down the road. I then pinned on my number, got the bike ready, and did a warmup on the road between Pescadero and Butano State Park, an abbreviated warmup given our late arrival.
Our field lined up for our 8:50A start, but they were running late and kept getting later. We finally got the start whistle at about 9:12A and eased into the 2 miles or so of neutral promenade through the business district of Pescadero. After the motor pulled off the field picked up the pace slightly but kept things reasonable and I was content in my 5th wheel position on the narrow portion of Stage Road. As we neared the sprint prime point a few more guys, mostly from Synergy-Taleo, came to the front apparently ready to contest for the $15. It was not much of a sprint, three guys powering on the front, then everyone settled into getting ready for the climbs coming up. We hit the first of the Stage Road climbs and the pace was nice, much, much below what I had done on the pre-ride the week before. But the depleted body was, well, depleted and the legs had nothing in them. I could not push; in fact all day I had trouble even tickling the bottom HR zone 5, never even close to reaching HR max, but the legs and body had no push. And so I quickly slid back in the pack as we neared the top and was soon off the back.
For the next 12 miles or so I had visual contact with the pack much of the time, even on the twisty mountainous roads, so I deluded myself into thinking I might catch back on or at least catch some stragglers with which to work. I did pass some remnants of the Cat 4B field that started 20 minutes before us, but never anyone in my field. At the feed zone I told The Wife that I was now in a training ride as she reported the field was not that far in front of me. From the feed zone I had the 2.5 mile climb up Haskins Hill and making ground with dead legs was not in the cards.
I pushed on, not slowing down at all, and did finish the ride strong. I was never passed by any in the two fields behind me, which started 5 ( W P/1/2) and 10 ( W 3/4) minutes after us. I was amazed that as a solo rider on a tough course that neither pack was able to make up the ground, though the front of the W P/1/2 field was only about a minute behind me at the finish.
There were a couple of other interesting tales from the course.
- At the start of lap two, coming into the turn from Pescadero Rd. to Stage Rd. in downtown Pescadero a motorcycle was starting to try to pass me before the turn when a CHP car following squawked on his PA ‘do not cut in front of the bicycle, do not cut in front of the bicycle’.
- Near the top of the first Stage Rd. climb on lap two I was passed by the front of the men’s P/1/2 field. As they passed one of guys pulled to an abrupt stop and pulled up the halves of his Campy Ultra-Torque crankset; apparently the torque on the connecting bolt was insufficient and it had come loose and fallen out. Bummer!
Next year I will try to redeem myself and actually race at Pescadero. But for now I will finish healing and do some intensity work.