Body Atoms

May Time Trial - Race Report

I grabbed all of my gear and put it on the hood of the truck. I went to fill up the tires and became a little hesitant. I wanted the tires full, but not too full to have another blowout, like two weeks ago. How much air to go with? I settled on firm but not near the 90 pounds the tire would take. It wasn't like I was trying to pull in the fastest time trial of the day. All aired up, I pedaled out of the driveway and south toward the veloway, where Run-Far was conducting 8-mile cycling time trials.

About halfway to the veloway I started to see some riders. At the crest of the hill where I was to make a left, seven or eight riders were paused at the light. I was getting near the bee's nest. They were circling the hive, not wanting to go in, just doing there thing to get ready. Warming up the legs before they made a mad dash towards the timing mats.

I proceeded to veloway to look for the Run-Far van. It was as simple as their Web site had stated. Have your own chip, sign a waiver and go ride. There were cars all along La Crosse Avenue with cyclists in various stages of dress and prep. I could tell most were very serious about the time trial. One guy had a blanket spread out and was stretching as his family people watched.

Most of the bikes looked new and expensive. Many had time trial handlebars, aerobar shifters and aero brakes. Some of the riders even had time trial helmets. This was a serious gathering of the cycling community. I paid less for my PSB (pawn shop bike) than most people paid for their tires. Nobody laughed or stared. The retrofit of the PSB must have been up to snuff.

I signed my waiver, wrapped my chip band around my ankle and rode out towards the timing mats. Twenty or thirty riders were circling. I decided to keep going up the hill of La Crosse and follow a few. Most went a couple of blocks and then started to circle back. That was what was so different about this race. It wasn't a race at all. No start gun, no gathering of riders. You went when you felt like it. Just cross the starting mat and race against yourself, against the clock.

I was as ready as I was ever going to be so I turned right at Mopac, popped the gear to engage the larger crank and pedaled for the mat. Click to start the heart rate monitor. Beep, beep, my chip started the Run-Far clock. The start position is on one of the only downhills within the first half of the 8-mile course. I popped into the 11-tooth sprocket and decided to go hard for as long as I could. If I burned out too soon, I'd know for next time. 32.8 miles per hour. I caught a man about ten years my senior who was taking his time. Did he know something I didn't? I had ridden this course before and knew the hills were primarily on the first half and at the end. Don't think about it Tony, he could be done, he could be cooling down, he may not know the course. Blast past him and I did. A couple of bees approached. "Left" and they were gone. Twenty-somethings on expensive bikes. These were not bees I could keep up with. My heart rate was already red lined at 172.

I picked out a rider farther up the road who looked like she was traveling about the same speed. I decided to push on the hills to see if I could pass her. My quads were already burning. My heart rate was still in the high 160s. A couple more bees passed, "left". My hill climbing needed a lot of work. I lost ground to everyone in front of me. I approached the last hill before the turn around and pushed on. At this point my mouth felt really dry. I wanted to pause and grab the Cytomax bottle and get a breather but I blew it off, thinking I'm half way there and I can drink when I'm done in another ten or fifteen minutes. I caught and passed the twenty something. I glanced over to say hi but could tell she was spent, so I looked forward and pedaled on.

After the turn, there are a series of three or four slight down slopes in miles five, six and seven. I shifted into the 15T cog, then the 13T cog, then the 11T cog. Home. At least while I was in the 11T cog I wouldn't get passed or would be able to maintain pace with the other riders, both ahead and behind. 29, 30, 31 miles per hour. I thought if I pushed here I would pick up a little compensation for my abismal hill climbing efforts.

Mile seven, almost there. The second to last hill on the course came and so did the wind. Absent for the three quarters of the race, it down came right at me. A thirty something bee passed me going 27 or 28 miles per hour. "Left." I accepted the burn of the quads and dry mouth and dug a little deeper to try and keep up with the bee. I didn't want to draft, so I stayed back and kept pedaling. By this time I was at a higher cadence, but lower gear and was losing ground. I looked down and forgot to move my front brake pad off to the right when I started. It has a tendancy to get stuck after engaging and rubs the wheel. ARGH! F&(@! S*#@! My heart rate was still at 169 and my chest now felt like it was on fire. One more hill.

I approached the mat to finish. No energy left. Nobody was around except for a couple of guys changing a tube. This was truely a race with myself. Just me against the clock. I ended up with 26.08 (18.8 mph, average HR 169) for the final time. Not as good as my past attempts, but also not the slowest. There were 28 team riders like REI, Hotel San Jose, ATC, Texas Iron and others. Factor out the bees and if the brake pad slowed me down, I was happy with first time trial. I'll try again next month with more experience.

Permanent Link: 5/17/2006 07:00:00 AM