Training at the Valley Preferred Cycling Center, photo: Anthony Skorochod at CyclingCaptured.com
A few weeks ago I dusted off the track bike and headed over to the velodrome for the first track session of the season. Actually, it was the first time on the fixed gear since the final race of last season.
I was feeling pretty good rolling around warming up with the group—I’m training with a group now—for 30 laps, pace-lining in the center of the track. As the laps ticked off the tempo gradually increased. With 10 laps to go, the paceline dropped to the bottom of the rack and the laps pass by quicker—pulls at the front shorten to half a lap. On the last lap it becomes a dash to the line as the group splinters and spreads across the track.
This group training is new to me, or training is new to me—at least since I got back on the bike a few years ago. I’ve just been kind of rolling into the season on a good winter base and racing myself into shape. This has been an enjoyable process, it allows me to do the rides I want when I want. The problem with the process is that the results can be hit or miss. And when they hit, or miss, it’s difficult to know what to attribute them too. Basically it’s not effective when you have goals you want to meet—I do, I’ve consitantly missed them, and I know it’s my own damn fault.
This year I’m actually training—not just riding—in pursuit of my goals. Gibby Hatton and Bobby Livingston train some of the fastst kids (should I say young adults?) around, the ones who routinely kick my ass, and they train together as a group. So, now I’ve joined the group to see what they’ve been doing, and to make the “training” easier.
There was a time, years ago now, that I was on “the plan”. Every day was mapped out more or less. If it was an easy day, you had to go easy. On hard days you had to go hard, and that usually meant a specific workout of intervals, repeats, TTs or whatever. Most of this time was spent alone, unless you were lucky enough to have a similarly minded—and skilled—training partner.
This, to me, is actually the hardest part about racing. Doing the right things on the right days, day in, day out, making the tough decisions; not to ride with your friends for 4 hours of fun in the sun on the easy day; to go despite the cold rain instead of staying warm and dry in front of the tv; not to have (another) doughnut from the local bakery; and on and on…
Winning is easy—or at least a possibility—once you’ve made all the right decisions and the hardest part is behind you. Yes, you still have to deliver the goods on race day. Yes, the effort will be hard, but you’ll be prepared for it. It is just another hour or two, right? Yes, there is the tactical aspect of racing as well as luck, but make too many wrong decisions and you won’t be able to take advantage of either.
Sometimes I feel like I enjoy cycling is too much to make the right decisions. I’m like a kid in a candy shop and I want to do it all, I don’t want to miss one great ride. This past weekend I trianed with the group on the track for two and a half hours—friends spent 10 hours riding 103 miles, stopping for beer, ice cream, doughnuts and more beer. I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy the training, or that I didn’t want to do it… it’s just that this is the hard part.
It’s been raining for two days now, so I’m off to intervals on the trainer, alone, hoping enough of the “right” decisions will pay off this season.
I haven’t blogged in a while, it’s been a busy summer. In between racing the track, logging miles and foreign visitors for a couple of weeks, I also gutted and remodeled the kitchen—but that’s another story. Those might all sound like valid excuses, but a big part of the truth is that I’ve been frustrated with my racing.
Last night was the last race of the track season and I expected it to be like the rest of the season. I would be able to get myself in the right position, but I would not have the kick to jump in the sprint… or, I would ride too cautiously and miss the split in the group… or hesitate a little and start the sprint too late… or maybe I just sucked.
At this point in the season it doesn’t matter, I’m more concerned about gearing up for cyclo-cross season than I am about scoring points on the track. All I really wanted to do was race hard. With two points races and a scratch race on the schedule it was likely to be just that. I really don’t like points races, I usually just like to make sure the pace stays up. If the field slows, I don’t, I keep rolling until they chase and overtake me. Which is fine, because I’ll be back near the front as soon as they let up—and that’s how the first race went.
Next up was the 2k scratch race, six laps. This is usually a pretty fast race, the laps tick off quickly and with three to go guys set up for the sprint. Last night, for some reason, everyone was fooling about high on the banking waiting for the laps to pass, waiting for someone else to go. One of the older guys, I don’t know his name, decided to get things going 2 laps in. He attacked and everyone went hard enough to keep him from getting away, and then drifted back up the track.
I was just trying to decide how annoyed I was with all this when another old guy, Dave G, rolled off the front. No one was going with him and I was maybe 20 feet behind on the bottom of the track. I decided I was pretty damn annoyed, so I rolled off after him. Rolled off, not attacked. The gap between us had opened to maybe 15 or 20 meters and I thought I would be getting everyone motivated to chase.
Dave went harder, I went even harder and started closing the gap at the end of lap three. I knew when I caught him there would be a jump, so I was leaving just a bit of space between us when I looked back to check on the field. We had a gap. A big gap. Maybe 60 or 70 meters. We might actually have a chance… I dug in and closed the gap with 2 laps to go and Dave flicked me by. I put my head down and tried to push the gear harder, a half a lap later I checked on Dave, thinking he could take a pull. But he was gone, drifting backwards to the group. Crap!
A lap and a half with the whole group finally looking motivated to chase. Chase me down… on my first chance at a decent result all season. I decided that I would make sure the lazy asses fooling around up on the banking had underestimated this old guy. It was probably only 30 seconds or so, but it was the salvation of my season right there spread out over 600 meters. I got the bell with one lap to go. They were coming, I could feel it, then I could hear it in the back straight. I didn’t dare look back, I learned that lesson years ago as a runner. In turn three I cut a line as low on the track as I dared, in turn four I drifted right up to the red line just to make the line around me a little longer… then somehow, I found just a little more juice to throw in the pedals as I drove to the line… a second after I relaxed, they passed me.
It was hard, but still somehow felt like a gift. But that’s the way it is, that’s the lesson you learn. If you sit around waiting, you give the control to everyone else. If you try take control of the situation, you might find yourself in control of the race. Well, it looks like I learned something this season, albeit on the last night, and I won a race doing it.
The one win was good enough to put me fourth overall for the night, and that earns me one upgrade point. One point down, 24 to go. More on that, next season.
It was Tuesday night again and I was hoping for a good night of racing for a change. I’m starting to feel like a big complainer—every time I start to feel like things are coming around, I tank the night. My legs just weren’t there, I was, I don’t know where they were.
I warmed up adequately and got a couple of jumps up to speed in my warm up gear. I spun up easily, accelerating effortlessly off the banking. Hitting turn three I threw a second acceleration in and exited turn four feeling pretty damn good. Maybe I’ll have a better night tonight, I thought.
I was geared a little high last week, so I geared down a few inches, to 92. The writing was on the wall by the first lap of the first race. I could hang on, but the changes in tempo were difficult to go with… no snap in my legs.
I guess I shouldn’t complain, really. I haven’t been doing any specific track training. But then again, I didn’t do anything specific last year either. I think it’s time to start racing twice a week, jumping in with the masters on Saturdays to get a little more work on getting my track legs back. We’ll see how it goes.
Another week of track racing in the books. Five weeks since the bigcrashand still not 100%. But, things are improving—it was my best night so far this season.
The schedule tonight:
15 lap tempo (these and points races—I hate ‘em)
Miss ‘n out
5 lap scratch
5 mile final
My legs felt pretty heavy during warm-up, the 48×16 (81″) felt like a 50×14 (96″). So, I raced the warm-up gear in the first race, afraid a bigger gear would bury me. My goal was not to score points, it was just to survive. I managed to sit in and stay out of trouble, but felt totally spun out. Looks like a bigger gear for the miss ‘n out.
I went up to 50×15(90″), it felt really big so I tried to spin it up and keep a steady tempo close to the front. I managed to float on top, following the surges for a good chunk of the race. I made it down to the last 10 or so, but popped… it was an improvement over the last miss ‘n out where I was the first one pulled.
For the five lap scratch I stuck with the same gear, which worked out ok. I managed to sit in the back of the front group, but with 2 to go got pushed down on the inside. The only way out was to drop back and go around the outside. I kicked it in and pulled through about half the group, so I was maybe 8th? I don’t know, but I was feeling a little better.
The five miler was hell. Just as the race was starting they annouced a $35 prize to the first rider to lap the field. Yahoo. I was counting on sitting in the first ten laps—so much for that plan. I spent the first five laps, hopping from group to group in an effort to get to the front. By the time I got there five guys were already off the front. I think it was Munas, I was with at that point. We spent about 20 laps in no-mans’ land between the break and the pack. With just a couple laps to go, 2 guys lapped us—crap, I hate it when that happens. Still, Munas and I were 6th and 7th, just outside the points.
I’m getting closer to where I should have been 5 weeks ago. Upgrading to CAT 2 this year is looking like a tall order at this point. Two months of racing left, no points so far.
With Tuesday, passed the four week mark in recovery from my worst crash ever—in the first race of the first night of track season. I wasn’t hurt too bad, all things considered. One pour guy was in the hospital for three days with a separated shoulder, fractured vertebrae and three broken ribs. I took the bulk of the 33 mph impact (exact speed courtesy of my Garmin) with my forearm and hip, with a liberal dose of “track” rash on my knees and shins. The right side of my ribcage got a serious tweaking as well, and I still feel it in the ribs if I move just right.
The thing that has bothered me most, though, is the sense of absolute exhaustion I’ve felt in the past weeks. The long recovery has been tough and completely caught me off guard. Guys crash all the time, right? You see it in the tour, bang! They’re down. They’re up and riding again… for days. I’ve learned the track is a bit different, there is little opportunity to scrub off speed before impact so you hit the deck with a truckload of momentum. I didn’t simply go down either. I hit someone laying/sliding on the track in the back, more or less going over the bars—and seemingly flung onto the concrete.
That’s blunt force trauma, something I’ve never experienced before. Apparently it takes a toll on the body. I could still ride, just not at any kind of intensity. For the first week and a half any time I laid into the pedals my heart rate shot straight up. Four weeks later, I’m starting to feel a little better, starting to be able to push it. I went to the Tuesday night Pro-Am series at the track and was able to hang with the front guys most of the night, but a month with no intensity takes it’s toll. With no real kick in my legs it was left to everyone else in the sprints. Still, it’s good to be able to work hard and get the burn back in the muscles… and there’s always next week.
So, I set this up a few days ago and still can’t decide what it should look like. Trying to find a block of time to fool with the template has been difficult too—I’m involved in too many things. Every night this week there has been something going on and I haven’t gotten in before 9:30.
Last night was the velodrome Community Advisory Board (CAB) meeting. I got home and just wanted to get to bed early, but I needed to finish up editing video from last Saturday night’s racing at the VPCC. Rather than let it hang over my head for another day I stayed up and got it done.
Training at the Valley Preferred Cycling Center, photo: Anthony Skorochod at CyclingCaptured.com
