4/12/08: Haystack TTT

I learned something this weekend at the Haystack TTT.

In my previous life as a pro triathlete in the 90s, TT'ing was easy. Cranking out 52-54 minutes for a 40k and then running 31-32 minutes for a 10k right after was par for the course. Bringing the HR near LT and holding it there for a sustained near-hour effort was no big deal. I never understood why bike racers and commentators talked about "The Race of Truth" as something inherently and awfully painful. Triathlon is all about maximizing your stead state speed from right below to right above your LT. If you train to do that well, then you'll do well in the sport.

However, energy expenditure in bike racing is completely different. Bike racing is about conserving energy, and races being punctuated by explosive efforts with higher power output. This is clearly not conducive to optimal TT'ing and, thus, makes TT'ing much more uncomfortable for the bike racer than for the triathlete. This is what I learned this past weekend.

The weather cooperated for the most part. It was chilly and windy, but it was hard to complain. The course itself was forgettable, taking place over stretches of road we all know by heart and with no topographical challenges of which to speak. The wind would be the X factor. I blew more than 2 years worth of dust off the ol' TT machine, made sure the shifting was crisp enough and headed out to the staging area to meet my teammates. We were fielding a strong crew and expectations were for a top tier finish. What we lacked in polish and precision, we would hopefully make up for with TT'ing prowess.

As we rolled off the start line, J-Rod and JC took off. Shot right out of a cannon. Either my legs were a little flat (they had felt fine) or there was some sort of friction inherent to the bike after sitting idle for over 2 years which forced me to fight like hell to not get dropped right out of the gate. The goal was to start steadily and conservatively, neither of which happened. Which is fine. Nerves were on edge and we all wanted to ride aggressively. However, the spike in effort - and the resultant spike of lactate (which everyone seems to forget about) - would come back and rear its ugly head in the closing minutes of the race. Before we hit Nelson Rd., we calmed down and started to get into a groove.

The ride out Nelson to 75th was quite fast for us. We made up a ton of time on our 1-minute team, Rocky Mounts. Our goal had been to pass them at some point and we looked well on our way to do just that. The crosswind was not much of an issue, even with my rear disk. We did fan out a bit much on the roaring downhills, but we came back together fairly well.

It was my turn at the front as we turned South on 75th, regrouped and started hammering again. Momentum tends to take us up and over the first few rollers. But this stretch of road is more challenging than it first appears. This is where we lost our first man, Josh. Having raced the ITT earlier in the day and nursing a sore knee, he was cooked a little over halfway through. Job well done. Andy kept taking some monster pulls and was a great motor for us, as was J-Rod. Which leads to another mistake I think we all made - taking too long of pulls. We were all anxious by the time we hit the front - fairly well-rested and wanting to "do our part". The longer pulls overall slowed the pace down as each of us up front began to tire and we ended up too fatigued over time so that the rest periods between pulls were not long enough. Our pace also lifted and ebbed more like a paceline than a TTT. We could also have done a better job of keeping the speed even and smooth. This also would have been more efficient and allowed us to have more energy for the end.

But I digress. J-Rod and JC were at the front as we hit the final hill on 75th, a short grunt that can sting the legs. Those two jammed up the hill. Andy and I stayed in line, but JC was done. As he faded back past me, he said, "It's just you three now." With 5-6 minutes left and fatigue already mounting, it would be crucial for Andy, J-Rod and me to keep together and not panic. For whatever reason, I was less than optimal in my output. I was in a spot of trouble, as was J-Rod after his brutal pull up that final hill on 75th. He was fading off my wheel just a bit and I was beginning to fade off Andy's. This is where Andy shined. Consequently, I had to tell him to slow down a couple of times. No sense in not finishing together.

We passed Rocky Mounts just after crossing 63rd on Niwot Rd. Only a few minutes from the finish line, so I'm thinking our pace fell off the final 10 minutes - remember that blistering start out of the blocks? J-Rod described the final climb to the finish line as "moving in slow motion." He crossed the line first for us, with Andy and I crossing side-by-side less than a bike length behind. During those final uphill 200m, I was cooked. Andy keep yelling, "C'mon, Nate! C'mon!" And I'm thinking, "Dude, I'm right next to you. What do you mean, 'C'mon'?" Of course, I was seeing cross-eyed and had no hope of actually verbalizing anything.

I, for one, was totally spent. Definitely not a "no chain" day. Which is fine. Maybe next time I won't lift so hard the day before. But that's not an excuse. I've raced well after harder pre-race workouts. The team did great, finishing in 4th and only 0:12 out of 3rd / 0:20 out of 2nd. First place crushed us all, by about 90 seconds. Great job there.

Next on tap is the first race that carries any weight for me, personally. Lookout Mtn. hill climb. I've got a big friggin' axe to grind with this one. Two years ago I was taken out by a dip shit descender who must have thought it was a race DOWN as well as up. Around a switchback, he was coming down too fast, came straight across the road and slammed right into me. Sheered off my fork, broke my helmet and glasses and I suffered a 4th degree shoulder separation (i.e., all the connective tissue is shredded). Last year, I had to miss due to my wife graduating from her Masters program. Ain't nuthin' keeping me off that mountain this year. It's gonna be fun.

Ride safe,
Nate