Balderdash for June 14, 2010

By Daniel McMahon

It’s been an up-and-down time of the season for yours truly, and lately things have been quiet cycling-wise. I think in my last rambling update, on May 24, I was riding a high after snatching a little win in the first of the Somerville races. That was fun, but what followed were a few weeks of non-racing distractions. For one, I had to have my bike worked on and as a result was without it for nearly a week. Then I moved into a new apartment. What joy moving boxes is! It meant I had no good legs for training, let alone racing. I was tired out. But more than these minor setbacks, something deeper within was taking place, and while it was not out of the “Twilight Zone” or a David Lynch flick, it was just as mysterious: a sudden lack of motivation. It caught me by surprise, but one day riding the train home from work it dawned on me: I was burned out and needed a break.

In hindsight, it was just a matter of time. While my coach has been excellent about prescribing my training loads and workouts and rest, no coach can always know everything that goes on, and a lot of time I don’t get enough rest as a result working long hours at my real job and trying to maintain relationships with friends, family and my significant other. Right before my recent break and “forced rest,” I had raced 24 days since March. For me, that was a lot. With that came a certain level of fitness and speed on the bike, but it also brought an eventual fatigue. I guess I’m lucky in that I snagged a win just at the height of this block of racing. Just before that, my coach had mentioned that I’d have to rest at some point, recharge, then come back for the second part of the season. In the back of my mind, I was foolishly hoping I could just keep racing all year long. But I had to yield to the body eventually.

Good things came from taking time away from racing and getting a little time off the bike. For instance, I now feel fresher and better rested. I’ve been eager to get back racing again, as I was earlier in the year. During my little time away, I squeezed out another article for VeloNews.com, got to chat with Adam Myerson at Somerville, and had a pro bike fitting. Boy, it’s a nice improvement, too. I’ll be writing up the whole fit session in detail soon enough, but suffice it to say that I have never felt as dialed in on my bike as I am now. I feel more powerful in the new position, and yet I also feel it’s more comfortable and tailored just right. Funny thing about fittings is, after you have one, you think, Wow, everyone should get one of these! But, as I see it, it’s a personal experience and hard to communicate to others. I mean, I can only convey how good the right fit feels so much. It’s one of those things you have to experience for yourself. If you have had a great fitting, you know what I mean.

Tour of New York: my first pro/123 race
Speaking of racing, I got my upgrade to Cat. 3 the morning before I won the Somerville crit and am now riding in the pro/123 races in Prospect Park or wherever else there is no Cat. 3-only race. So I did my first one Saturday. It was a fun way to get back to racing actually. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the race, but it turned out to be easy enough. I mean, easy to sit in and finish. In fact, it was very easy. Like a smooth motorpacing session behind a box truck. If you just want to sit in, these park races are not hard at all. More difficult was trying to get something started, of course. Ah, yes, now that was hard.

I think we did 44 miles, maybe 14 laps or something. I didn’t have enough coffee in me to count each time we crossed the start/finish. I’d had a good week of training going into the race, with a lot of recovery and endurance, then some speed work and intervals. So, having had some time to rest, along with the good week of training and wise coaching, my plan was just to keep my eyes open and learn. Sure enough, on lap one, somewhere along that backstretch, after the hill, some riders were rolling off the front and I counted myself among them, trying to catch a sleepy pack off guard perhaps. But this lasted a shocking few seconds in reality, and I was soon acutely aware of the effort needed to ride off the front of this 123 field. Well, it required a lot. I knew it was no Cat. 4 race from then on.

I cruised about top 10 or so for a few laps and rolled off the front another time but, again, just for a moment. At this point, although I felt comfy near the front, I decided to check out the field and began moving to the back of the pack. Yeah, moving back. I wanted to visit the quiet, serene sanctuary that is the tail end of the peloton. I knew a certain former teammate of mine would be tail gunning back there, as he likes to do, and I wanted to see what it was like. And it was indeed calm at the very back of the 90 or so riders. Much like a motorpacing session once more. From the rear, you get a great view of the field, and I saw it was often strung out single file or appeared to be a double paceline of sorts. Another big difference from racing Cat. 4s: the overall average speed is noticeably higher. Whereas the 4 packs are three or four or five riders across the road, the 123 field was often one line or two riders abreast. Those I spoke with after confirmed it was indeed a fairly fast race this day, too, so that made sense. I had no computer on my bike, so it is hard to say exactly what we did speed-wise.

Anyway, as I was at the back I was never 100 percent sure what was happening at the front or off the front, and as we began three to go, I started to move up. After the last turn, I was near the front when I saw three riders a bit ahead of the pack, so I bridged to them. Very hard effort! It took a little longer to bridge than I’d expected, and I had to get as aero as I could and hammer pretty hard to catch the guys, but I did so after a spell. Funny thing, once I caught them, they sort of just sat up. Huh? One guy was sort of half pulling us, so I pulled through and pulled hard, hoping to possibly make this little gap we had a tad bigger. In TT mode, I motored for 10 seconds or less, then looked for the next guy to come through, but there was no one there. I looked back and saw three figures in the distance, and behind them the anxious pack. Wasn’t sure if they gave up or I dropped them or I had body odor but it mattered not: I was alone. So, knowing that I was soon to be caught, I put my head down in TT mode again and started mashing in my 13, then my 12. I held a tiny gap through the start/finish, but I was pretty much at my limit and knew it was a matter of seconds before implosion. I made it to the bottom of the hill, where the arrowhead of the field came up to me and passed me mercilessly. I kept pace to a third the way up the hill, then surfed back to the rear of the pack. My foray into breakaway land was short-lived but fun, if by fun I mean acidic.

I ended up cruising at the back all the way to the finish, and, unfortunately, had a front-row seat for a nasty crash after the last turn as the fieldsprinters were cranking up the speed. I recall seeing a rider go head over bars and his bike flying through the air with lots of hang time before smacking a loud bang on the ground. I didn’t stop as I figured it was best to ride in fast and let the race director know there had been a serious crash. I saw others tending to the victims too. That really sucked, though.

Well, a fieldsprint it was, and the usual suspects took the paying places, so good for them. As there were just 10 places, most everyone was content to cruise in.

I suppose doing the pro/123 races means I will get faster as long as I ride at the front more and attack more, or help teammates if I can. As a result, I believe this means that the Cat. 3 races I’ll be doing will be more bearable and that I will be better prepared. Well, that is the theory. Time will tell. Up next is Floyd Bennett Field, where I will be doing my first pro/123 race there too. As I understand it, there is a curse for newly minted Cat. 3s. That is, they don’t finish their first Floyd 123 race. Well, I can only try to avoid that fate.

All of this, I hope, will prove to be fine tune-ups for Sunday’s Harlem Skyscraper Classic criterium, where I’m hoping for a good result in the Cat. 3 race. Crits suit me best, but I just wish there were a little hill or some sort of chicane at Harlem. It’s pretty basic with four corners and pancake flat. But it should be a great day for racing in New York City nonetheless.

Of course, the Lucarelli & Castaldi Cup resumes Saturday in Prospect Park, so there will be at minimum a good motorpacing session ahead of Harlem.

If you’re going through any kind of burnout of your own, or been in a crash, or just need to get refocused, you might want to read this. It’s an update from João Correia. I like his writing. He’s honest about his experiences, and that’s a relief these days. To boot, he even makes time for the little people in the so-called cycling blogosphere.

See you out there.