Pittsburgh Race Weekend

Yesterday I was going to write a blog titled “The Curse of the Crash.” Thinking on it, I decided against it on a superstitious hunch that it may negatively influence today’s race. I luckily accomplished two of my goals for the steel city showdown criterium. I’ll get to them in a bit.

Two crashes in a row can sure mess with your psychy. I already had a bad feeling about the road race yesterday morning. Something about the cold brings hatred to my body. I’m not made for riding in the cold, let alone racing.

The road race had 1,000 feet of climbing each of four, nine mile laps. As we crested the first two climbs, voices spread through the pack speaking of the sudden curve in the road to come. I was already sick of crashing from last week meaning I was prepared to do anything to stay up on my bike.

Nearing the curve in the road, I told people around me to take it easy. Anticipating a crash, as if I created it with my thoughts, two cyclists locked their back wheels into a skid turned horizontal onto the pavement. I reacted by slamming my breaks as much as possible, veering in an upright skid towards the right of the road. I ran over one racer’s front wheel, continuing on my path off of the road. Shifting my weight over the back of my bike, with my butt hanging behind the saddle, mud sucked up my wheels as I attempted to come to a stop with my thick gloved hands fumbling to re-grip the breaks. I slid to the left to dodge a ravine of mud that would have taken me further down the hill towards trees. Looking at my path, the woods suddenly seemed like a viable option as they passed by me. A pole protected by a bail of hay lie square in my line. I leaned to tackle the bail of hay, avoiding the painful looking rod of steel. Flying off the bike, I found my self in a puddle of mud.

All within the ten seconds it took to run over a bike, mountain bike off of the road, and dive into a puddle of mud, I jumped up with my stead and mounted it like a cyclocross racer. Simultaneously glancing at my frame, with its bottles still in their cages, I was pumped to begin chasing after the stragglers of the pack with a mud coated right side; how hardcore looking. It appeared that I painlessly evaded having a “DNF” (Did Not Finish) placed next to my name on the results. Punching the pedals, I felt every revolution of my front wheel as it rolled against the pavement like pre-historic square wheel. It was a flat. My race was over because of another crash.

Today, in Downton Pittsburgh, with the sun shining on the beautiful Easter morning, there was no way I was going to crash a third race in a row. After warming up, I stripped down to my shorts with knee warmers and my short-sleeved jersey. I felt weightless without the thick neoprene booties covering my shoes and without a thick thermal jacket covering my core. The cold brought a welcome chill to my bare arms and calves, exhilarating me. I felt more alive than I did at yesterday’s start.

After rolling up to the line first, we were off. The pace was fast and I managed to get into third position right away. It felt good to sit behind a wheel, and save energy like I did so well last summer.

The course was a quick one mile square with two, old steel bridges accounting for most of the distance. Each bridge had a small rise with a symmetric downhill on their back side. The turns were equally attractive allowing for large sweeping arcs. I was able to peddle through all of the corners, saving lots of energy.

Nearing the end of the bell lap, which indicates a prime (a sprint lap where points or prizes are awarded), Mattison (a fellow UofM cyclist) jumped for a long sprint. I stayed with the pack in a seated position. I did not have as good of position as I did in the beginning. I was fine with the circumstances since I had a different plan.

After the pack re-formed, slowing as it crested the second bridge towards the start/finish line, I jumped. No one followed me and a large gap opened up. For some reason, I did not expect a gap to form; I was a bit caught off guard by my move, what was I to do?

Tucking into my drops, I looked at my computer to see 30mph. Pedaling by the crowd, with the Michigan flag waving through the air, I felt a rush I had not felt since sprinting last summer. I pedaled around the next corner maintaining the fast pace. It felt like a time trial. As I began to hammer up the next bridge, I looked back to see the pack leaning through the corner. Sitting up, I gave up on my chances of staying out. I veered to the right side of road to wait for the pack. The pace seemed too high to maintain.

I did not keep my position up front as we took to the last lap, I had a mental lapse. I need to race smarter and keep my position. This seems to be the recurring theme from the criteriums I did last summer. I ended up finishing towards the back of the pack in more of a fast string of pedaling than a sprint. I need more sprint work.

Soft pedaling around the course, I felt great. I was up in the front pulling at times and I broke away. It was something new. My day was made.

Reflecting on the race, I now know that I need to bust out my break away for a little longer. I need to trust in myself and my abilities to recover in the pack once caught. It was a foreign feeling being out in front and I gave myself up early to save energy. Looking back at my power file, I realized I could have at sustained that effort for at least another three minutes or so. Next time I won’t be caught off guard by the break away, I will be prepared to sustain the effort longer.

This is the essence of these early races. I may have the fitness, but I don’t have the skills. I will learn many lessons from each race to come, building up my skills and confidence.