So I will stay ‘uncommitted’.  I will order new uniforms from the club/team, and will race in them when and if I am able.  But I cannot, in good conscience, say I will line up for X number of races next year.

National RR champion Brooke Miller

I am looking forward to a long weekend near the homestead. Last weekend’s travels to San Ardo and beyond stretched the limits and stressed the body. My backside and legs would start complaining about being stuck in a car seat about every half hour. And the body did not take well to the lack of the trainer time to which it has become accustomed. It took me two days to get the muscles back to where they did not seize up and cramp in the first few minutes on the bike. Monday it was 10 minutes on the trainer, get off and stretch, another 10 minutes, get off and stretch, and so forth. For now I think I will need to keep the recovery days to one at a time, not a duo like last weekend.

Stars and Bars

About the only good thing about last Saturday’s trip to San Ardo was to see a few friends, say hello, then heckle, mostly from the feedzone. An interesting perspective on the races when you get the once-per-hour or so snapshot of the dynamics. The women’s P/1/2 race was interesting; it was easy to spot them coming and see the dynamic as they passed up the hill towards the freeway overpass. First lap it was two out in front with Elis doing her best to bridge across but the field less than 5 seconds behind her. Next lap the newly minted women’s national road race champ, Brooke Miller, was trying to keep her 25m gap off the front. Nothing seemed to be sticking in any field. It was interesting to see Brooke out there; it was only about 6 or 7 years ago that she got her first road bike and would ride up Old La Honda on occasion with our Tuesday morning group. Now she has two national titles to go with her NCAA title.

We did move up to the finish line to watch the last half of the fields finish. Need to gently remind a couple of folks that it ain’t over till you cross the line. Saw a couple of folks drop down in the placings by letting up a couple seconds too soon.

Join the argyle brigade

Maurice modeling his argyles. And his quads.

And I am not talking of Garmin-Chipotle. Young Maurice, who has been slaying a few in crits and on the track this year, has a penchant for the argyle knee high socks. Another pair were on display at San Ardo. Perhaps that should be part of the SJBC kit next year?

Advocacy time

Getting politicians to promote cycling issues does not happen very often. So it is a good thing that San Jose councilperson Sam Liccardo has put forth a proposal to make the city (downtown at least) more bicycle friendly. The problem is, he and his backers did not pass this idea by folks who bicycle regularly and know what works, what does not, and what violates best practices. Their ideal is commendable, now folks need to gently persuade them to alter the proposal, make realistic goals, and enlarge the target area to the whole city rather than just the downtown core.

Near the top of the climb to Toumalet we found a rather deep snowbank blocking the road about 100m from the top. I got to try my cyclocross techniques to get our bikes across this barrier. At the bottom of the climb we had been assured that the road was clear, bicycle accessible, but closed to cars. I am relatively certain that there will be no snow on the road tomorrow.

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.

The Wife and I did wander over and do a pre-ride of the Pescadero course on Saturday morning, joining dozens of others taking a look at this beautiful but brutal course. The attached profile is a bit mis-leading; there is only one summit on each climb, but for Saturday’s little ride I tested my climbing legs on each hill then descended back down to find The Wife and then climbed back to the summit with her. And it is just a partial profile of what the race will look like since we will do about 1.7 laps, with the finish at the top of Haskins Hill, the biggest of the 3 climbs on this profile. 47 or so miles, 6 climbs, lots of suffering. It was such wonderful weather on Saturday, and the area so beautiful, it seemed like racing through it and not enjoying it would be almost criminal. Sunday may have been an even better day, but knowing that the Tour de Cure was passing through much of the course area made me want to avoid that traffic jam.

Sunday I did get out for a bit of a ride, mostly trying to work out the ankle. Often when the ankle locks like that riding helps to loosen it up. But not this time; it was locked and painful the entire ride. If it is still acting up like that on Saturday then even the training ride aspect will be abbreviated.

This week I will try to front-load my efforts, and relax a bit at the end of the week. I had an unplanned 24 mile ride to work this morning (CalTrain clogged, again), and will attempt the Tuesday Night Crit tomorrow and track racing on Wednesday. That should be enough before Saturday’s main event, though at least one person has suggested that I should do the Friday night track races, too.

The road rash from the crash in the Memorial Day crit is rapidly healing. The worst spot is on the back of the left hand, which was itching up a storm through the night and resulting in me throwing in the towel and getting out of bed at 4:37AM (uggh!) since I could not sleep. Still a bit of bruising, but that is fading. All of the bodily parts seem to function.

Last night the Colnago was restored to some semblance of working order. The shifters are on and seem to shift fine. I wrapped up the bars, trying the fi’zi:k tape made of Microtex. Not sure about how it will feel or wear, but it is a pain to work with. Only thing that I have used that is more of a pain is the Brooks leather bar wrap.

This weekend I plan to get out and see if the body and bike will be up to the 47 mile Pescadero Road Race 8 days from now.

A few months ago the right Chorus shifter on the Colnago went out for an extended lunch break. I did the quick fix of putting the spare Centaur shifters on the bike and had the Chorus shifters there in the home office waiting to be rebuilt. But I never got around to doing it myself and never took them to a shop to have it done. The broken shifter from the crash on Memorial Day was the impetus to get it done, finally.

Today I dropped the Chorus shifters at a shop near where I work for the rebuild. The guy behind the counter asks when I need them, and I say that it is not a rush, but I want a couple of weeks before Pescadero to ride on that bike. He looks at me and asks what field, so I tell him 35+ 4/5. He asks if I am a good climber, and I say that I am an OK climber. So he bundles the shifters, hands them over to a guy in the shop and says: “Dmitry, make these work fine for a few days, then so that he can shift to the 53-11, only.” Guess I know at least one person I will be racing against that day.

Today was day 2 of the annual race weekend put on by the club. I spent yesterday working at the finish line of the Mt. Hamilton Road Race, opting out of the logistical headache of getting from Livermore to Isabel Creek and back, in order to race today at the Memorial Day Crit in Morgan Hill. The plan was for me to cheer on the Cat 3/4 women, do my warmup, race in the 45+ 4/5 field, then work for a couple hours of course marshal and ride north towards home. At least that was the plan.

And the plan worked, up to a point. And that point was to about the 12 minutes left mark in our race. Things had been a bit sketchy a couple of times, notably some wheel dueling on the nice sweeping curve between turns 3 and 4. Coming into the very wide and nice turn 4 I was towards the right side of the field on a right hand turn, marking my inside guy as we came into the turn. Then about halfway through the turn someone came around me to the outside and dove in hitting my front wheel, I spun towards Mr Inside Guy, bounce back to the outside to hit Mr DiveIntoTheTurn …. and eventually I could not get it under control and went down. Fortunately it was solo. Unfortunately I have a nice bruise and road rash on my left hip, left hand, left elbow, right elbow, and right knee. And my helmet is toast, as are the gloves, my bib shorts, and left shifter. The jersey might be worth salvaging.

Thanks to Andrew, Joe, and Benson who came to help within seconds of the crash, and EMT Katherine who assessed the damage then cleaned and dressed the wounds. And to The Wife a big thanks for everything you did to assist, and all you will do over the coming days. And a big apology for not coming out clean.

* P.S. Apparently the fun continued; there was a crash in the very next turn. Can’t help but wonder if it was the same over-aggressive corner diver.

My role at Kern was limited. Guys got to either (a) sit around, (b) pass out water and cheer from the feedzones, or (c) drive follow vehicles. I don’t think anyone opted for (a), and Robert twisted my arm to do (c) on both Saturday and Sunday. A very different perspective on the race. From the feed zone you get a brief snapshot of the status of all the fields as they pass. From the follow car you get a limited view of the action of the front group of one field throughout the race. And I found it is much harder to drive follow when you have emotional attachments to folks in the field, and easier when you know some of the folks but do not have the attachments. Either way, it was easy to admire their fortitude in getting out in that weather and to be impressed with their skills and tactics.

And one has to be impressed by the dedication that VeloPromo and Robert put into this race. It is a logistical nightmare for him, the officials, and all the participants. But it apparent that Robert puts a lot of effort and heart and thought into this event. Icy watermelon at the top of the hot, brutal climb, and him serenading the riders with his “it’s not a saxaphone” clarinet music 2 miles from the top? No wonder a lot who have experienced this event keep coming back in spite of the logistical problems. I am sure that The Wife has already mentally penciled it onto next year’s calendar.

I’ll have a few photos to post later, once I get caught up on things like shopping, eating, sleeping, and hydrating. But not so many; hard to take photos when one is driving along some distance behind the group.