fast brad

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.

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.