Things that go bump in the night

A couple of weeks ago I resigned myself to riding indoors. After all, the days were getting shorter and it is pretty difficult to do quality interval workouts outside. I mentioned this to my friends and Johnny B was quick to respond that it was too early for indoor riding and there would be no mention of trainer time until December. Johnny is an laid back 24 year old, for him to get this fired up about something, forced me to reevaluate my indoor riding. I gave it some thought and really decided that he was right. I've spent a bunch of money on lights, both to see and be seen, as well as clothing, fenders and more. Why couldn't I ride outside? With a new found energy, I bundled up and went outside. There are some great, quiet rodes near my house, REALLY quiet roads.

On my first ride out, I was off in la-la land thinking about other things, when I literally heard a voice talk to me. Picture this, middle of no-where, no street lights, just me and some distant houses, yet a voice. Holding my breath while I coasted (although ready to sprint away, not sure where, but away), I tried to hear it again. I know this was outside my head. Sure enough, it was there again, except now that I'm listening I notice that it's a recorded message. Riding by the end of someones driveway, I triggered their Halloween motion detector and started some cackling. Phew, that's now funny. With my elevated heart rate, it was like doing an interval yet coasting.

Another week, another opportunity to ride outside. I've found a good route by this point and am just spinning along, getting ready to start my workout when I hit a pothole pretty good. THUMP. I continued along, tires all set, but realizing that I need to pay extra attention to potholes, because they are tough to see and can reek havoc on THUMP (another pothole) a night ride. I'm not as fortunate through the second pothole and start losing air in my front tire. No worries. After a couple mid-summer flats where I was totally unprepared (who goes on a 70 something mile mountain bike ride without a pump or tire? ME!) I had stocked up all my bikes with tools and supplies. Being my singlespeed rig, I had even brought along a box wrench to remove the front wheel for a quick change (seriously, why don't these bikes also have quick release?). I pull the tire off, take out the tube, slap a new tube in, put the tire back on, all the time using my new tools and light. Even as I am doing this, I'm thinking that MKR would be pleased to know that I was fully prepared. I apply the CO2 to the valve stem and immediately freeze my hand off. All the CO2 is doing is spouting onto my hand and not into the tube. The cartridge is exhausted and my tube still has no air. No worries, the newly prepared Scott has a second cartridge. I again apply the CO2 to the valve and again freeze my hand off. No air again. STUPID SINGLESPEED, STUPID TOOLS, STUPID CO2, WHERE IS A QUALITY PUMP. With desperation I use my final tool, my cell phone, and call home for a ride.

CO2 is only nice and quick if the applicator fits on the valve. Otherwise, have a pump. In 30 seconds at home, I pump up the tire and get ready for the next night's ride. Hopefully I'm prepared then too.

Weekend Happenings

What happens in Vegas, really doesn't stay in Vegas. All that really happens is as soon as you do something, your best friends are going to rat you out at home. Well, what happens in NYC, certainly is going to stay there, because the alcohol is going to insure that. Saturday morning, a crew of seven from Boston headed to the big apple to bid farewell to our bachelor friend J-Ho. After years of procrastinating, J-Ho finally decided to propose to his girlfriend, as he put it "just when she had given up all hope" who says romance is dead?

The plan for the night was simple, meet up with two other guys from his past, grab some dinner and hit some bars. What happened started with a case of beer in the hotel room, Brazilian BBQ (awesome) then four hours at Libation. Once we left the bar, rumor has it that we went to another bar, then another before making it home. The booze flowed, and good friend O did his best to drink as much as he could. Now O is a very funny drunk. Funny in the sense that you just sit back and watch what happens. Seems he needed to speak to every lady he met Saturday night, only to have every lady be annoyed by him.

In the interest of not ratting out anyone that was there, we went, we drank, we were conquered, and we went home. Sunday was a long drive home. Thank god that no one else is getting married any time soon.

Canton Cup

Well, the back felt fine today, but boy the legs were shot. Between taking two weeks off the bike and racing yesterday, I just didn't have anything there. With a great start, C.Bailey passed me like a bullet. To this point, I'm still unsure whether he was going that fast, or I was racing with a parachute, because I kept going backwards through the field. I finished up 24th, just behind Johnny B and new cat 3 racer J.Gibby.

No racing next weekend, rather lots of drinking in NYC, with some biking before and after as we mourn the end of our bachelor friend Justin. He's taking the leap and getting married in early Nov.

I'm Back

Well, it's been several weeks since I posted. In that time I raced Suckerbrook in NH, and was having a good race until I crashed slowly in the sand with just over a lap to go. Then I was in VT for the Catamount race weekend, the first in the Verge series. Saturday was perfect for me, fast enough to keep the mtb'ers behind me and technical enough to make the roadies hesitate. After a strong road and mtb season, I put it together and finished up 8th. Great result for me. Going into Sunday, I was on cloud nine. I was pumped for another great finish. With a guaranteed front row spot due to call-ups, I headed out on the course for one last warm-up lap. Racing a little too hard and a little too fast, I came around a corner, hit a ditch and went flying over my handlebars, landing on the small of my back. This would have hurt enough, but killed when I actually landed on my waterbottle that was in the center pocket of my vest. Something I do when warming up. Limping back to the start, I was in so much pain. Even racing, whenever I tried to get out of the saddle, my back hurt. Whenever I tried to put some power down, my back hurt. Bumps, my back hurt. The entire race was spent going backwards. I barely cracked the top 30, and sulked on my way home. For the next week or so, I tried to ride the indoor trainer, but that too hurt. Finally I started vacation a day early and stayed off the bike. The next day I went to New Mexico with my mother to visit my grandmother for a week. The time off the bike was good.

Returning to racing today, I headed to Mansfield Hollow in CT. For some reason this isn't a wildly popular race. The course is old school New England, lots of mounts/dismounts, run-ups, sand, fast sections and a huge off camber section. I started great, settling into fifth place after two laps, then ran out of steam as the race wore on. I ended up finishing 8th, just out of 7th, by about a half wheel length. Because this race is so awesome, they give prizes ten deep. I took home a t-shirt, bag and a video. Looking through my goodie bag, I have to wonder why cyclist clothing companies make size extra large clothes. I'm a pretty decent sized cyclist and I swim in size XL. If they are going to give away prizes, they should err on the size of small. Oh well, swag is awesome, so that's not a complaint.

Tomorrow is Canton, another great race.

Cross Season! New England Velo-Cross Challenge

The skies Saturday morning were clear, the conditions perfect. It was then that I decided to start the second season, or cyclocross. I arrived at the track, and took a couple of warm-up laps. Over the summer, I reaquainted myself with mountain biking to hopefully improve my cross technique. Immediately the course left the velodrome and had two quick up hill sections that were relatively loamy. Even on the warm-up laps I knew that my mountain biking was paying off, as I was more aggressive in corners and the somewhat technical sections.

The second area that I targeted this year to improve upon was my starts. Typically I will go super hard, take the hole shot, then spend the rest of the race drifting backwards. On the line, there were several big guns and I decided to try to get fourth wheel into the woods. That shouldn't be too deep in the red, but won't make me regret starting slower. Through the first two laps, I stayed fourth wheel, with Mike and the other two guys moving around a bit. Then on the third lap, I caught a pedal and had a difficult remount in about ten seconds and a good size gapped formed with the leading three. I spent the rest of the race sitting in fourth place, often having to fight the mental aspect of racing, because I couldn't see the guys in front any more, nor could I really see the guys behind. True definition to no-man's land. Final result was 4th place. A good start to the second season.

This race also marks my entry into Master's racing. Thanks to cross' "racing up" I can race the big fast guys, while not celebrating my birthday yet. Actually, due to the way that cross works, I don't technically celebrate my 35th birthday for over a year, but the plus one to cyclings end of year racing age and I'm in!

GMSR Day 3

Yikes, today was the mother of all stages. 77 miles, 5600 feet of climbing in just about 3 hours, 3o minutes. I am totally stoked with my ride! From the start of racing I attacked. Having learned from my previous mistakes, I upped the speed at a reasonable pace and hoped that a couple of people would follow, four did. After a couple of minutes we established a decent gap, which turned into 30 seconds, then we disappeared around a corner and it was game on. 18 miles from the start of the break we had swept up the sprint points and stayed away for nearly an hour before the pack caught back up. The bane of most climbs was removed from the race this year due to major storms, replaced with a climb of 8 miles and 1500 feet. Over the top of the climb I was still with the pack and feeling good. We cruised through some of the most scenic parts of Vermont that I have ever ridden through. I bet without a state police escort the motorists aren't so kind though.

I've raced App Gap five times now, recon'd the climb another dozen times, and this was the first time that I had a problem keeping track of things. The final 20k clicked by so fast, that I found myself thinking multiple times "We're here already?" With 2.5k to go, I finally had enough and was popped from the pack, but stayed close. My loss was limited to just about three minutes. The largest accomplishment of the day though was to watch the podium ceremony. I've never seen the podium ceremony for the cat 3's on App Gap. It wasn't that cool, but I'm pretty stoked to be able to have seen it and make that call.

Crit and final stage tomorrow!

Oh, final place on the day, 42nd. 34th GC!

GMSR Day 2

Today's stage was another new course, this one required when a major rain storm in August sent a bridge on rt 2 to the bottom of the river. Reports are that it will take up to two years before the bridge is replaced. I'm glad that it didn't take them two years to replace the circuit race. When I heard that the new course was going to race DOWN Baby Gap, I was very concerned. It wasn't the high speed decent that raised my alarm, it was the fact that you could only scream down the course if you made it up.

I've been pretty conservative this year, sitting in the pack, waiting for my chance. For some reason though, just out of neutral today, I took off. Part of my plan was to initiate a break, part of it was to warm-up. Immediately I had a 20 second gap, but I was all alone. About a half mile into the breakaway, the first hill of the day came and by the top of it, I was back in the fold. Warm-up complete. The race turned left and entered what would be two 29 mile circuits. This road was very broken up and in a pack of 80 guys, picking the proper line would be critical. As this thought was running through my mind, the right side of the pack hit the deck. 15-20 racers in all went down, two of them bumping my right side as I maneuvered around the carnage. We flew through the feedzone, a glance at my speedometer showed 27mph. Not exactly a proper speed to grab a stationary bottle for refreshment. Perhaps next lap I need to take it slower.

The pack stayed together as we started the 15 mile climb to the top of Baby Gap. I figured that sitting 20 riders back would be a good position, allowing me to drift back and remain in contact when it came to the steeper pitches. Next thing I know, the sign on the side of the road said 2k to go. "Hey, I'm holding well." I look over to Theeman and ask if he was feeling good and wanted to go for the KOM. He does, so I maneuver us to the front, and 700 meters attack the field. 600 meters from the line, I hear something over my shoulder so I turn back, Mark has been gapped. I sit up and let him get my wheel and try again. This time 400 meters from the line I hear the noise again and Mark has lost my wheel. Not where I want to be. 400 meters from the line, 200 meters from the front two riders and only 100 meters in front of the pack. Before I know it, the pack is swarming me and I am struggling to stay in touch. I do, then over the top my legs come back. When you are feeling good, the only thing to do is go to the front. I pull the group down Baby Gap, speeds topping 50mph. While the speeds are high, being in front allows me a clear view of the turns and not a knucklehead to worry about. Down the hill, and to the line, the pace yo-yoed from fast to a crawl. Seems no one wanted to do any work, nor did they really want to race. The intermediate sprint came and went without much attention. My only thought was that I hoped the climb on the second lap felt as good as the first. Through the feedzone I prepared to grab a bottle from ML, lined her up and just as I was going to reach for it, two guys in front of my hit their brakes and scrubbed all their speed. Like the scene from Top Gun where Maverick hits the brakes and Jester passes him, I went past these two guys and missed my feed. Good thing it wasn't hot, because I had half a bottle for the next 20 miles.

The climb felt good, I again went to the front on the downhill, but when we made it to the right onto rt 17, I realized that my legs were tired. In the final 3k to the line, the pace hadn't picked up, but I managed to move to a perfect position on the yellow line. 2k I was still holding my place, 1k people were getting nervous, but no one was picking up the pace. I'm second wheel from the front, just on the line, but the front is shoulder to shoulder with racers. 500 meters from the line the yellow line rule is removed, providing us the entire road, but no one is moving. 300 meters the road starts to rise, the right side of the pack accelerates, but the left side is just not moving. 200 meters I jump for the line, but it's way to late. I cross the line 20th in the pack finish, which is 5 seconds behind the winner. Overall this moves my GC to 20th.

Tomorrow is the critical road race stage.

GMSR Day 1 Results

Results are posted, I finished 42 seconds off the win, and only 12 seconds outside of the top 10. 11 guys in 12 seconds, certainly a well balanced field. Lots of rest tonight and time to make up tomorrow.

GMSR Day 1

Another summer gone, and another trip to Vermont to do my favorite stage race, Green Mountain Stage Race. This is a four race across some of the most scenic areas of Vermont. This years race featured many changes, some seemed good, others would need to be raced before judgement was passed. Gone was the mass start prolouge up App Gap. I've never fared well in this stage, where the first rider gets 50 points, and each subsequent rider gets one less point. Rider 51 gets nothing. Having done the race four consecutive years, my total points for stage 1 was zero. Replacing App Gap was a 9.5k TT starting in Warren and ending in Waitsfield. The course had 514 feet of climbing in the first 2k, then it settled down for the next 5k before a fast dip down and up into the finish. With racers starting at 30 second intervals, I saw my 30 second man in the first k. I kept him in sight, then was surprised to see my minute man at 2.5k. I continued to pace off my 30 second guy until the final 2k, where I passed him and used him as a driving force into the finish. Overall I was at 15:30 which I am hoping puts me in the top 10 for the day. While it was a TT style race, there was no TT bikes, which seemed to be a leveling factor. Results to be posted later.

BADA$$ Weekend

The word epic seems to get thrown around a lot lately. Every couple of months it seems, a word works its way into the daily vocabulary then starts appearing everywhere. You can't describe a bike race without using it. "Wow, that climb was epic" Or "Whoa, that third corner in the crit was epic". The overuse of the word waters it down to the point where it just becomes part of the background.

In a race season that is ripe with crits, TT's, road races and stage races, it's pretty funny that the one weekend I look forward to every year is the final weekend in August. The local town brings in a handful of blues artists, and 40 local breweries as it hosts the Blues n Brews festival. ML and I have gone the past two years, leaving the house for a casual bike ride over, sample the music, brews, food and festival, then pedal home. This year we brought along a couple of friends who joined in the events. Good times with good friends is really where it's at.

It wasn't easy, but Goody worked hard to find a helmet that would distract folks from the shirt

With people already congregating at the house, we invited a couple of more friends over and had a nice cookout. It wasn't to be a late night though, because the definition of epic was going to be rewritten the next day.

The Bakers Dirty Dozen - photo courtesy of PK

13 souls showed up at Palaza Bike Sunday morning. There were guys who regularly podium at mountain bike races standing next to guys who just broke out the mountain bike for the first time. The intent was to ride 60 something miles through local trails on single speed mountain bikes. Six of the 13 riders had their appropriate steeds, while the rest choice gears. It might have been coincience, but only two geared riders pedaled back 7 hours, 70 miles later, while five of the six singlespeed riders made it back. Perhaps it was the speed, the technical terrain, the distance, the heat, the breaking of handlebars or something else all together, but by the end of the day those that collapsed in the yard had truly an epic tale to tell.

The epic good - Save the Landlock in Burlington!

The epic bad - speedy recovery to the Mayor!

Bow Road Race

Ah Bow. We were on the back side of the course, just before that last left hand turn where it climbs a short bit before descending, and the official screamed at us to get to safety. 50 or so riders took an immediate left into some guys driveway and into his garage that he left open. As stragglers caught up to us, we called them inside and just stayed out of the weather. It was the lightning more then anything that they were concerned with, because as soon as they could, they called game on. Or was it rain on? At that point, the skies totally opened up and it was raining so hard. When we made it to the bottom of the hill, through the four way intersection, they came up and said "Last Lap". Assuming this meant one more to go, I notified my teammates and made sure they knew what was going on. Through the start/finish line they said "That's it". Huh? The race was over at that point. They only placed the first seven guys in the field (four were off the front) to pay out. It pretty much sucked, but was the right thing to do.

We are so proud

So my weekend started out by watching the Mountain Bike Nationals in Vermont and ended by biking to Devens to watch my niece compete in the Bay State Games for Archery. This is her first year and she did AWESOME. She came in second place after competing in 2 days of very hot weather.

Mt Snow MTB Nationals

Day 1

Day 2 (look who came to the east coast)

After a LOT of going back and forth, I finally decided to compete in the Sport category at MTB nationals at Mt Snow, Vermont. This is only my first year of racing mountain bikes, or even riding them for ten years, but after doing three races this year, I wanted to go to the big show. Heck, I've traveled to Kansas to race nationals, why not travel all the way to Vermont?

As we took the line we were notified that the race would be shortened to two laps, consisting of a total of 10 miles, not the advertised three laps or 15 miles. At high noon, the temps were in the low 90s so I wasn't disappointed to hear this change. At the gun I settled into third place and wanted to just hold the top couple of positions for the first lap, then see what I can do on the second lap. About two minutes into the race, I had moved up to second, then 30 seconds later took the lead. As the course wound its want around the lower mountain I was feeling pretty good. All it took was one turn to notice that the course went up the mountain. Up the ski mountain. I ground out at the front for a little bit before looking up the course and noticed that the earlier fields were going sooo slow. At this piont I decided to dismount and walk the bike up. My thinking was that this wouldn't be much slower then riding, but would allow me to conserve energy (boy, those guys were working a ton grinding away not going anywhere) and also give my back a rest before the next section. A couple of riders passed me, but everyone pretty much held their position. There were a couple of traversing sections, then we pointed the wheels downhill and let the bikes rip. Although the course had been rerouted since the last race held there a month ago, it was still very technical, more so for a novice rider.

The second lap was pretty uneventful. I had passed a number of racers, but had been passed by many too. The race organizers had written riders waves on the calf of each starter, so theoretically you could identify who you were racing against, but in the heat of a race, it's pretty tough to remember if four, five, three, or some other number of racers had passed me. I did take notice when a Salem, MA rider in my category passed me and I would have none of that. On the next climb I pushed myself and retook my place. While not a climber on the road, I've really come to embrace the climbs in mountain bike races. Near the top of the climbing, I could see a rider that I had been talking to before the race and knew that he was in my category. I tried to bring him back, but as soon as we entered the woods, I decided to go as hard as I could. If that wouldn't bring him back, then I couldn't worry about. Tossing concern of myself aside, I screamed down the hill, passing several riders, including one I literally rode over when he crashed on a slightly technical section. As unfortunate as this was for this rider, it was more fortunate for me that he crashed right next to two course marshalls, because hearing him yell "Oh my leg" anywhere else would have brought me to a stop to help. With volunteers on site, I decided to continue with my mad descending. At almost the bottom of the climb, I was snapped back to reality by the rider behind me yelling at me to get off the brakes and get going. Um, I'm flying here, can't you understand that? Oh, I'm not going that crazy fast? I'm sorry, it certainly feels like that. As I finished this conversation in my mind, we popped out of the woods and jammed to the finish line.

As soon as I was done, I immediately went to the picnic tables and took ten minutes to regain my senses. My first nationals done, in one piece with no scratches (perhaps I didn't go hard enough?) and pleased with myself. Being pleased gave way to elation when the results were posted and I finished 4th! In biking, that's a podium place, a medal and a great story to tell everyone at work!!!

Back to the road for a little bit, but certainly a new bike has found it's way into my life again.

Fitchburg Wrap-up

The first two days of Fitchburg were a hoot. By the end of the road race though, I was a walking zombie. I went through the motions the last two days, figured that my overall GC wasn't going to change and wanted to try to make something happen. Well, what happened though was that the pack stayed together both days and we finished in a group. After four days of racing, I headed into my rest/off the bike week and really enjoyed not doing anything.

Statistically my race was a great improvement over years past. Comparing my time gaps to the winner of the TT and road race were significally less. Even my position in the standings was a significant improvement. The most shocking tale though is that if I took my time gaps from this year and put those against the results from 2006 (my last time doing the race) I would have been inside the top 20. That's really why I don't like comparing one year to the next. Too many variables that change. I'm glad the race is over, onto GMSR training races now.

Balloon Festival VT

Fitchburg RR

This single stage is arguably one of the toughest races of the year. In 68 miles of racing, we climb about 4500 feet, which averaged out evenly wouldn't be that bad. The kicker is the hills through Princton come one after another with no place to recover, then the KOM shortly after that so the speed stays high before decending like a madman for a couple of minutes, just to do it all over again. Six laps is a bear. A very long angry bear that just woke up after a winter of hibernation with a hangover. The topping on this ice cream sundae is we are allowed to ride to the top of Wachusett Ski Mountain. Thank goodness they let us ride to the top using the "down" road that cars go down, because not going up the steepest road there would be sad.

My plan for the day was to sit in and do as little work as possible. Hopefully I would be at the base of the ski mountain with "fresh" legs and do pretty well on the climb. Well, it's impossible to arrive fresh. That said, I rode very smartly. I was consistently about 20 riders from the front, staying out of trouble and taking on plenty of water, intentionally. The day started out by pouring buckets and it wasn't until three hours later that I noticed it had stopped raining. No clue when it stopped, because if it wasn't falling from the skies, it was being kicked up from the road.

I gave the race everything I had, and when I was 500 meters from the top, I heard the announcer talking about how close the riders were to the leader. Wow, I've never heard that before. Typically on a big climb race like this, the stage winners have received their accolades and started down the hill. This was a good day for me, to cross the line while the leaders were still recovering.

Lots of rest tonight and back to the grind tomorrow for the circuit race.

Fitchburg TT

After missing last years Fitchburg race, I was looking forward to getting back into local stage racing. Also, the past two weeks I've been flying on the bike and am hoping that my form would hold just a little bit longer. On Wednesday, I drove out to the registration hotel to get my numbers and pre-ride the course. Halfway there, the skies opened up and torrential rains started. This has become a regular occurance, each afternoon, a thunder and lightning storm of epic proportions rolls in, then 30 minutes later the sun comes back out and everything is good. Well, following registration, the skies had cleared and the roads rideable.

For the past year, everyone had been talking about steep the TT course was. It is just over 6 miles long and an average grade of 3%. During the preview, I found that the course did go up, but it wasn't nearly as steep as I thought. There were a couple of sections where you could recover, but not many. The last mile or so was downhill and another chance to make up speed.

After a proper warm-up, I headed over to the starting area. Seems every year the officials roll out the starting ramp, and every year some knuckleheads crash rolling off of it and the ramp removed. For the first time for me, the ramp was still there at my start. Awesome! From the gun, I hammered it. The first climb felt pretty good. I was trying to hold onto some power for later, but I just keep going harder. Cresting the first climb, my 30 second guy was in view and the chase was on. By the second hill, the 30 second guy wasn't getting any closer, but I noticed that my minute man appeared right next to him. Another rabbit to chase. By the third pain section, my legs were starting to quit on me. I felt like my speed was so much slower then it should be. Instead of recovering on the flats, I pushed harder. When the next hill came, I was spent and kept pushing. This pattern repeated many times. About 15 times more then last night's preview ride. Finally, on the left side of the road was the yellow gate that I noticed before that indicated the climbing was almost over. At this point my two minute (or greater) rider was in view and all that was left was to open up the legs, throw it into the 53x11 and hammer.

After what felt like an eternity, I passed a sign that said 1k to go. Really? Still another 1k? Yikes. I passed that sign and a rider at blazing speeds. Oh that felt so good to try to bring some respect to my pretty bike. We were flying when we crossed the line. Maybe I spent too many matches early in the race, maybe I didn't pace properly, maybe something else, but I know that I left everything I had on the course. The final time was 18:33 which likely will put me just inside the top 1o and one very happy rider.

Boloco Heartbreak Hill Gran Prix

For the past several years I've raced Cox Classic the week before Fitchburg. It's always been a very high profile race that was in downtown Providence. The course was directly across from the uber-mall and the State House. For several reasons, the course was moved and categories changed from a straight 3 to a 2/3 and included a pretty nasty hill. This year a new race was introduced in Newton and offered a chance to replace my beloved Cox Classic.

When I showed up to register, I was notified that the earlier running race had started late, which pushed the bike races back an hour and 15 minutes. Not a great start to a new race. Regardless, I registered and dressed, then took my bike to the course to preview it. It featured four 90 degree turns before entering the famed Heartbreak Hill of the Boston marathon for three quarters of a mile before snaking around the hospital and descending back to the start. The finishing straight was over a half mile run in with major speed.

At the start line, I weaseled my way to the front line and with Richard Fries calling the race, heard what I thought was a weird comment from Richard "The finishing line has no banner, so racers will be struggling to know exactly where the line is" Um, Richard, there's a big blue tent and a mess of people at the finish, how's that difficult to miss?

With instructions from the officials completed, the racers were off. I quickly found a place about five riders back and held my position through the first lap. As the laps wore on, I focused on holding to my position on the downhill, climbing controlled on Heartbreak Hill and moving to the front through the snaking section before descending again. This strategy worked very well, in fact late in the race I commented to Dave to drink, and realized that I was speaking in a regular voice, not one that was strained from racing.

With three laps to go, Paul Curley moved up towards the front and I decided to hold his wheel to the finish. Regardless of what happened, Paul would find the line at the finish. The pace jumped on the final lap and everyone got strung out. Turning right onto the descent, Paul was in the front five and I was sitting a couple back, just where I wanted to be. As expected, a surge of riders moved forward, and I rode them to the front. With 500 meters to go to the line the pace was in the high 30's, I was just behind Paul and to the right. Paul went left to sprint for the finish. Boxed out from Paul, I went right and to the line. Very quickly I realized that I was spinning out my 53x12 at 122rpm's and unable to stand to sprint. I remained seated and looked for the line. All I could notice was the amazing number of cross walks and stop lines. WHERE THE HECK IS THE FINISH LINE??? I continued to hammer for the line and crossed sixth. Regardless of where the line was or who I followed, I couldn't have pedaled any faster. A great finish to a great day!!!

Giro di Jersey - Stage 3

When we arrived at the race an hour before the start, we were the fourth car in the lot. Guess these folks don't arrive as early as they do in New England for a race. Or perhaps they weren't going to warm up if it means losing 15 minutes of sleep in the middle of the night. I quickly dressed and put together my bike as I waited for registration to open. After 20 painful minutes of waiting, the GC standings were posted. Sure enough, my fears were averted and I was in the pink jersey!!! I had accumulated 16 more points then the rider in second place and 20 more then the rider in third. I signed in and asked where the promoter was so that I could pick up my jersey. They assured me that he was around and would be back at 6:30 for an officials meeting. I started to walk away, when the other lady said "Well, it is 6:35, so that might not be exact." That's how I ended up racing my only day in the leaders jersey in the team kit.

The third stage could be described as a small circuit race or a large crit. We were to do 8 laps of a 2.2 mile course that again included a couple of rolling sections, two flat areas and another wide straight finish with a slight false flat uphill. Peter and I both had the race numbers of the top riders within 20 points of me taped to our frames. My intention was to finish in the top 10, limiting whomever won to only 20 more points then me and securing the overall title.

From the gun the race was fast. Very quickly the pack fell into a routine. A routine that was so predictable, everyone would sprint out of the corners like a mad dog, then at the base of the rise sit up. The group always came back together and there wasn't a need to spend excess energy chasing. On the second lap, a single rider rolled off the front and after two days of racing, the pack seemed to not care about him. The rider quickly got about a 20 second gap on the pack and yo-yoed for the next six laps. As we followed this single rider, another racer shouted to me (could have been at me) "Hey NEBC, you have teammates here, why aren't you going to get him?" I was confused at first, because it certainly sounded like he implied that I had multiple teammates available at my disposal to chase things down. I instead told him that if he can explain to me why I wanted to bring that rider back, I would. That I was in the overall lead and that rider wasn't a GC threat. He simply replied "Oh". and the race continued. On the seventh lap the guys decided to turn up the pace. A small group of 15 riders created a gap and we were off to the races. For the last two laps, the group remained strung out. Coming into the last turn I was positioned fourth and felt good about my chances. A rider in front of me decided that he wanted to move from the inside of the group to the outside and nearly took me out. As I accelerated and started to overtake him, he changed his mind and went back to the inside, this time bumping off my side. I remained seated, trying to remain secure through the finish and took fourth.

Final result, 2nd in stage 1, 4th in stage 2, 4th in stage 3, overall victory!!!

Giro di Jersey - Stage 2

Stage 2 of the race was a 53 mile road race that consisted of 5 10 mile laps. The course was rolling hills for the first eight miles, turned left and went up a 8% hill for a quarter mile, leveled out for a couple of hundred yards before going up at about 5% for another quarter mile. A short recovery before a screaming downhill descent into the finishing straight. The finish was spectacular, wide open straight-away that you could carry a lot of speed into, but it had a slight uphill that kept it very safe.

Unsure of just how far from my friends house I was staying at, ML and I packed up the car early and headed out. With no traffic on a Saturday morning, we arrived about two hours before the start. Early enough that we parked in a lot that ended up being closed to cars an hour later.

With plenty of time to get ready, I double-checked my equipment and prepared for the 9:05 start. At 8:50, they announced that the races would be delayed by 15 minutes. Great, more time to wait.

Finally, the race went off. Unlike local races, the first five miles were neutral, and the pace car kept it neutral, cruising along at no more then 20 mph. With the pace car gone, the pack upped the speed a bit and I started to look for any rider in the top 5 GC trying to make a move. Seems that regardless of what rider moved off the front, the pink jersey (worn by the race leader, just like that race in Italy by a similar name) chased. The pack turned left onto the hill, and I found myself very easily moving from 20th to first on the hill. This was a typical big ring power hill for me. As we transitioned to the middle section, I eased up and drifted back, trying to preserve all my matches. I took note of one rather large rider who was climbing very well. I continued to watch him on the descent, figuring that if he could climb like that and descend like a rock, he would be an ideal rider to draft behind into the finish.

As the next couple of laps wore on, I continued to watch either the pink jersey chase everything in sight, or his teammate Andy track things down. This kept the pace comfortable and I never had to work to keep things together. On the final lap, the pace quickened and everyone got strung out in the field. As we climbed the last time, I worked to stay five riders back. No sense putting effort in where I didn't have too, but I couldn't afford to go too far back and not have time to make it up on the finish. Just at the top of the hill, when the pace typically slows and everyone comes back together, I yelled to Peter C to keep the pace up and he kindly obliged. Going into the downhill, my pre-picked big boy came to the front and dove down the hill. What seemed like a perfect plan started to fall apart when by draft sat up and wanted me to pull through. I obliged momentarily, then started to coast. Four or five riders came by me and I again jumped into their draft. At the bottom of the hill, 400 meters from the line, I was sitting sixth and towards the middle of the road when I saw the pink jersey sprint on the right hand of the pack. Two guys went for the line in front of me and I followed their wheel. 200 meters from the line, their pace slowed a bit and I momentarily tried to figure what to do. I distinctly remember hearing an interview from the Tour a couple of years ago where someone commented that their finish was slightly uphill and they needed to wait until it was almost too late before launching their sprint. This memory had absolutely no impact on my decision and I figured it was time to go for it. I gave it everything I had, I broke clear of the field and opened a gap. 30 meters from the line I ran out of steam and three guys snuck past me. As I coasted after the line, I realized that my mind was telling me to wait. Too late for that realization. Instead I reveled in the moment, I took fourth with some impressive teamwork from Peter.

We cooled down a bit and as we headed back to the start/finish area, we saw the pink jersey riding away and both realized that someone else would be in the lead tomorrow. I felt confident about my chances, but then three guys scored more points then me in the second stage, I didn't think that they were top 5 the previous day, but I would have liked some confirmation.

ML, Peter and I hung around for the next three hours. We watched the rest of the races, we listened to the announcer talk to the winner of the Pro field, listened to them talk to the winner of the junior field (that race started 10 minutes after ours finished) and even watched them reopen all the roads. While unintentional, we realized that our car was now free to leave the lot that we parked in to start the day so long before. We ended up leaving the race unsure of who would start the next day in pink.

Quick note: Stage 3 started at 7am on Sunday and was an hour away. When I crashed at 10pm Saturday night the results were still not posted. When my Blackberry chirped at 2am and woke me up, I checked my email. The results were posted on-line, but my Blackberry couldn't display the page. Great, just what I need to think about at 2am as I tried to go back to sleep. Leaving the house at 4:45 Sunday morning, I was fully amped up and didn't require the large coffee I started to drink on the drive.

Giro di Jersey - Stage 1

Years ago I ended up in grad school because a group of guys I was friends with all had this idea that we should go together to make it bearable. Great plan. Immediately after I passed my GMAT and was accepted, I found out that these four guys have this discussion every year and perhaps believe they will try to get in, but never even try. About two months ago I had a similar conversation with some different friends about trying to find a stage race outside of New England. Next thing I know, I'm off to New Jersey to race. This time I have a teammate, Peter.

Day 1, very simple TT. The course is a simple out and back 15km course. The first section is a slight downhill where you can gather your momentum before hitting a quarter mile 8% decent, real speed. Or should have been real speed, up until a local driving a mini-van went around me, then continued at 30 mph. At the bottom of the hill is an immediate left hand bend. In the course preview I was concerned about this turn, as turning at 35+ on a TT bike isn't the easiest thing. Trying to brake at 30mph, trailing a minivan on a TT bike isn't any better. Shortly after the turn, the road rose up just a bit, enough to slow me down, but the minivan pulled away at 30, fortunately not to be seen again. Two miles into the race, I passed my 30 second guy. This course was FAST. Keeping in mind that the first half was downhill and I would need power on the way back, I tried to stay within myself. The speed just kept coming out. My computer afterwards showed my speeds frequently over 35. Just coming out of the turnaround, I caught my minute man. It wasn't long before my minute 3o man was in sight and being passed. Next in sight was my 2 minute man!!! I was very amped by this and started cranking harder. At the base of the last big climb, I caught my target, and took note of his number. Between oxygen debt, adreneline and total lack of math skills, it took me half way up the hill to realize that I just passed my 3 minute man. Pedal, pedal, pedal, over the hill and the line is now in sight. Crossing the line I stopped my computer 21:31, average of 25.9 mph. The second half of the course took two minutes longer then the first half, but I was done. Now to sit and wait.

When the results were posted, I was in second!!! Awesome run and 27 out of 3o points. The Giro is an omnium, meaning that it didn't matter that it took me 11 seconds longer then the winner, I was just three points behind him. Time to rest up and get ready for stage 2.

Who knew Jersey had farms and pretty views?

Harpoon B2B

Today I rode from Boston to Winsor, VT. Not sure where that is? Is is 146 mile from Boston. Along the way I found my love for biking again? There's really more to biking then racing. It's about good times, good friends and being one with the bike. Here's just a few of the things that I saw.