6/30/08: Great Training Ride

Waking up the day after the Ft. Collins RR, I did not feel fatigued as one would expect to after such a challenging race. Instead, I felt depleted. Like a car with an empty gas tank and no oil. No soreness, but my legs felt like they each weighed a ton. I had been bled dry the day before.

It took me from that Saturday afternoon to the following Thursday afternoon to finally start feeling normal. Training those days went pretty well, but not great. It wasn’t until Friday’s ride that my body felt like it was finally coming back around. I deferred my weekend long ride to Sunday, hoping that the extra day of distance between it and last weekend’s road race will help me get the most out of the session.

I set out at 6 a.m. with Ben Buxton, a neighbor and fellow racer. We found this ride on Michael Barry’s blogsite. Instead of rehashing it here, I’ll instead provide the link: http://www.michaelbarry.ca/pages/rides/boulder.htm. I would be hard-pressed to add the depth and detail about the course, which Michael does a great job of describing. Suffice it to say that it is one of the exciting, epic rides in the front range which allowed me to ride on new stretches of paved and dirt roads, and see some breathtaking scenery. The fact that it was a great workout and that my body responded very well to it were almost secondary.

The climb up Lefthand Canyon to Ward is a perfect simulation for Mt. Evans. The grades are similar and, at a moderate clip, the climb lasted about 75 minutes. I was feeling strong so decided to press the final 10-12 minutes up the steepest parts to Peak-to-Peak Highway. The legs felt snappy and the power output was very solid. The ride over to Ned is simple and straightforward, and after a quick bottle refill, Ben and I were headed off to Wondervu.

My favorite 60-miler is the Wondervu-to-Ned-to-Boulder loop, or the same ride in reverse. The backside of the Wondervu climb is considerably shorter than the front side but much steeper. After descending from Ned to Pinecliff, we hit the first short grunt of a climb. The legs felt very good here, so I decided to really push the climb up to Wondervu. Over 3 hours into the ride, if I came in under 11 minutes, I would consider it good. I hit the top in 10:15. Legs felt great, HR rose to some pretty high values – another positive sign that the body was coping well with the ride, and the time for the climb was great.

The dirt climbs on Gross Dam Rd. and to the top of Flagstaff Mountain passed without a hitch, besides having to stop for both the ski train and a loooooong coal plant train. Once we got going again, the rest of the ride was awesome and the descent down Flagstaff was aggressive. Ben picks great lines so following him down forced me to push my limits on the switchbacks in particular.

We completed the ride in just under 5 hours. The best sign was that I felt fresh enough and strong enough to have ridden another several hours. The rest of the day, I did not even feel like I had ridden. I was up for anything. While still in my mind, last weekend’s disappointment is clearly in the past and the focus can now clearly be on the task ahead.

See you out there,
Nate

6/21/08: Ft. Collins Road Race

It had taken awhile for me to absorb this race and conceptualize the right way to post about it. How to explain the disappointments of the day without coming across as either bitter or as if I were simply making excuses for a really poor performance? This was my conundrum. So, I decided to give it a week’s worth of reflection first.

Felt OK before the race. Not great, but not bad. No reason for alarm. Training had been going very well and the peak build up for Mt. Evans had been spot on. The goal here was to see improvement in my fitness from the Mike Horgan HC. This year’s race start was quite a bit later in the day than the previous year. How much of this played into my implosion I’ll never know, but my guess is that it affected me quite a bit.

The ambient temperature of the day was fairly “hot”, even though the true temperature wasn’t that high – low-70s at race start and into the low- to mid-80s during the race. I recall thinking it was pretty hot while standing there at the start line for roughly 10 minutes. Still, at this point it was an observation. In last year’s race, Greg Ross and I controlled the pace up Rist Canyon, then tried to blow the race apart on the steep upper parts. That worked, but the race also came back together and was left to about a 15- or 20-man sprint for the finish. So, for this year, my strategy was to hold back going up Rist and save the legs for the final series of dams. Seemed like the right thing to do.

The course change for this year left me scratching my head. While I love climbing and think “more is better”, including those stingers in the opening 10 minutes of the race is kinda silly. Unless last year’s course had to be changed for some reason(s), the steep climbs right out of the starting gate left me shrugging my shoulders. Some folks decided to press the pace heading up these first climbs, which also left me scratching my head, but I stuck to my plan and hung back. I rode at the very back of the pack, and kept energy in the bank. Legs didn’t feel super snappy, but good enough. Still, no alarm at this point.

Things heated up, figuratively and literally, heading up Rist Canyon. Sticking to my pre-race plan, I kept the pace consistent and did not panic as the pace yo-yo’d. I dropped off the back and caught back on several times by holding my pace consistent. To me, I wasn’t burning matches and was still right where I wanted to be. So far, so good, right?

Well, not so much . . .

About 2/3 of the way up Rist Canyon, I commented to my teammate, Andy Johnson, that I was feeling pretty hot. He didn’t say anything at the time, but afterwards he commented to me that he figured I was in a for a long day given my susceptibility to the heat. I started to wonder if I was in for a long day myself when, on the steep upper slopes, my legs did not respond to the final accelerations. At that point, I simply could not “go.” Still, no panic. Based on the previous year’s race, the subsequent descent and flat sections would offer more than enough opportunity to catch back on.

I hit 64mph on the backside of Rist, loving every bit of that serpentine descent. Eventually, 7 of us hooked up and got a fairly efficient paceline going. Figured we would snatch up anyone else dropping off the front group of 8 (or so) and eventually catch back up to the leaders. I started feeling a little better, but still not great.

At about mile 40, after a left turn and a quick spin through one of the aid stations – which were great – the lights went out. It felt immediate, though clearly symptoms had been mounting. Suddenly, my HR dropped and my respiration climbed. I blew off the back of the paceline like I had been tied to a tether which had been pulled taut. It was that sudden and complete.

I was clearly overheated and dehydrated. My jersey was stiff with dried salt. My lips and tongue felt swollen (not sure if they actually were), and I had the most bitter taste of salt that I could not shake. My HEED went from tasting mild to super sweet and completely unpalatable. My body did not want me to ingest anything – not HEED, not plain water, nothing. On the flats, I was relegated to going 10-12mph. It was all I could do to turn the pedals over. The biggest moment of humility came when about 10 miles after my blow up an overweight cyclist who had to ride with his knees bowed out due to his girth passed me by. Just some guy out for a ride on Saturday. If I had not been so in-tune with my distress and forcing more calculations about my demise through my brain faster than the IBM Super Computer, I might have had the mental acuity to feel embarrassed.

Things did not get any better as I limped along. Eventually, they stopped getting worse. After about 30 minutes of my pedestrian pace, another large group came by me. One guy, I think he was in a Basil Doc’s kit, called out, “Nate, are you OK?” as the pack rolled by. Don’t know who he was, but I want to officially say thank you for recognizing me and checking in.

When it came time to hit the dams for the second pass, instead of taking that sharp left, I descended directly down and back to the start/finish area. Even if I had wanted to hit the dams for pride’s sake – and I sure as hell did not! – there’s no way my legs could have carried me over them. My goal is never to drop out, regardless of where I may end up place-wise. However, I would be served in no capacity by continuing on any farther. The only reason I kept pedaling once I had blown up was because there was no other way to get back to the venue.

After some exhaustive post-race dissection and in speaking with some ultra-distance athletes I know, what my implosion essentially boiled down to is lack of acclimation to the heat. No, it was not a super hot day. But, to my body it was and so my furnace, which burns hot anyway, kicked into overdrive and fried me to a crisp. Without boring with the details, it makes sense and now I have the tools to get myself better acclimated moving forward.

So, mission unaccomplished. After cycling through all the possible negative thoughts while I rode on alone, I kept coming back to the fact that my fitness was OK. It didn’t show in this race, but I would live to fight another day. Go home, lick wounds, get back on bike.

The team, however, had a great race. Greg Ross sprinted it out for 5th (and ended up 3rd in the following day’s HC). Josh Tanner ended up 10th. Jeremy Miller finished 17th to round out our presence in the Top 20 for those precious BAR/BAT points.

Next up for me is the Longmont Crit, 6 days out from Mt. Evans. A great final prep – short, sweet and intense.

Ride safe,
Nate

6/8/08: Mike Horgan Hill Climb

This year’s Mike Horgan HC went up Sugarloaf to end up at Nederland Elementary. A shorter route than alternate years when it heads up Magnolia to Eldora Ski Mountain, but certainly no easier of a route. Sugarloaf is not the steepest climb on the front range. However, it could arguably be the hardest. For a road this steep – with sustained pitches of 13% or greater – it is quite unusual in that there are no switchbacks. The road goes up and up – and UP – and never friggin’ ends! If you blow yourself during the first 4.5 miles of the Sugarloaf climb, your race is effectively over.

The temps were perfect for this type of race, where racers would be exerting a ton of energy. But strong winds out of the West would put the kibosh on hitting a PR. As a point of reference, racing in the 4s two years ago, my teammate Greg Ross went faster than the guy who won the pro race this year; and we were a good 5-7 minutes slower. The wind never let up and slowed everyone down accordingly. Certainly made the race more challenging.

My goal for the day was to notice an increase in fitness and ability over the Sunshine Hill Climb a month earlier. With my projected peak still 6 weeks away, I did not expect to feel sharp or “race ready”, but to avoid any sense of panic, I would need to quantifiably be stronger. Pre-riding the course last weekend was a disaster. After blowing up halfway up Sugarloaf, I had to Paperboy it up to the initial crest at the 4.5-mile mark. The rest of the ride up to Eldora, down thru Ned and then up Flagstaff was not any better but still needed to be done. My goal was to not repeat that performance. Time would soon tell . . .

Things started out mellow as we rolled across the start line 3 minutes in arears of the Pro-1-2 race. I found myself leading the peloton, cruising along, which allowed me a moment of contemplation. I knew people would get antsy rather quickly. As long as the race were on pavement, I was going to follow attacks rather than create them, so I sat u front and waited. It didn’t take long. Suddenly, a big guy from Echelon – solid crit and road race rider but not a climber – was the first to attack. While wondering why and what purpose it served, I quickly slotted in within the top 20. The pace remained punchy the 5 miles up Canyon to the Sugarloaf turnoff.

The nearly 180-degree right turn onto Sugarloaf is a shock to the legs. The pitch of the road increases from about 4-5% to something north of 10%. Among the “clank, clank, clank” of furiously shifting gears, the group rather quickly strings out, with the climbers finding their way to the front. I had cautioned teammates to not blow themselves in the early miles. Strong legs on the 4-5 miles of dirt is imperative to success in this race. I hoped I would heed my own advice.

Two early attackers were still up the road. While watching the known top climbers, waiting for an attack, my teammate Greg Ross gradually accelerated off the front with one other guy to build an expanding lead. Chris Case beat Greg and me at Evans last year and at Sunshine this year, so I figured sitting on his wheel was a good idea. If he bridged up, I would follow; if not, I’d be just as happy to stay put. A few folks attacked, but I still felt it was too early, so I hung back and hoped the patience would pay off later on.

Another teammate, Josh Tanner was riding very strong. We were riding together most of the climb, each half-wheeling the other as we attempted to reel in some of the other front runners. As we hit the first descent, Josh used his superior size to barrel down the road. Getting on his wheel – which he graciously offered – was a nice ride and we quickly snapped up Fred Dreier from VeloNews. The three of us forged on and slowly but surely started nipping at the heels of the 5 still in front of us. As we hit the dirt, Greg and his breakaway companion were still well out front but now in sight. Between them and my group of 3 was Chris Case and the 2 early breakaway guys who had finally given up the ghost and been caught (though, I have to say, Ian Nansel of Studio 1 Dental rode very impressively as he stuck with it till almost the very end before finishing 7th).

The dirt section of Sugarloaf is nice and smooth. The only technical part is an S-curve sweeping descent which bends left and then right. The bend to the right puts the hair on the back of the neck on end because the last thing you want to do is lay it down and slide into the guard rail. My legs felt stronger here than I expected. Josh and I pushed the pace and the race started to come back together. There was no harm in chasing down those in front of us as long as we stopped pushing once we caught them. We were not going to tow anyone up to Greg, if that’s what it came to.

As we crested the dirt and turned left on to Peak-to-Peak Highway, the front 8 were all coming back together. Aided by a slight downhill and motivated riders, Josh and I sat on the wheels of those who wanted to catch Greg. As the catch was looking imminent, Chris Case jumped across the gap. Josh, in perfect position, jumped on his wheel and the two of them bridged up. Right before this, I had told a couple of rider from the Pro-1-2 wave we had caught to disengage from our race. One of them was a Studio 1 Dental rider and the last thing that needed to happen was Ian potentially getting a free ride. I could tell his legs were torched; if he stayed up with us, he needed to earn it on his own. To his teammate’s credit, I believe he dropped off and did not aid Ian’s efforts. The timing of my comments with Chris Case’s attack was eerie.

Velo News Fred took off after Chris and Josh, but did not have the legs to go with them. I jumped on his wheel and sat on, content in knowing that 2 of my teammates were in the front group of 4 and that, at worst, I had 6th sewn up. I figured on waiting until the very end to try to pip Fred at the finish line. For the final 1.5 miles, he got out of the saddle quite a bit, but went nowhere. What I mean is that he wasn’t accelerating away from me even though he appeared to be trying. I remained seated and spinning well. At this point, I felt confident I could take him. We made the final turn on to the road leading to the school and the finish line. About halfway up that road, around a moderate pitch that bends to the left, Fred stood up again. And, again, he was not able to surge at all. I decided that when he sat back down, I would go. The hope was to catch him off guard and unprepared to react. Given his body language, I expected nothing less. Sure, I was tired but I had some punch left in the legs.

Well, Fred’s either a good actor or my jump lacked the punch I thought it would have. We still had about 400m to go when I jumped. As we closed in on the finish line, I saw Fred’s shadow by my back wheel and knew he was right behind me. He came around me in the final bend before the finish line. I had a little bit left and very nearly decided to give it another go. Unfortunately, some woman in a minivan decided to slow to a complete stop right in front of the finishing straight!! WTF!! I am not going to speculate whether or not I could have re-passed Fred. My guess is that I probably could not have. However, with that dunce making about the most dip-shitted decision that could be made and stopping her vehicle right in front of us – and on what is already a narrow finish – I saw potential disaster and figured it would be best to avoid it. I shut it down and rolled in the final 15 meters.

The driver was oblivious. Fred went to her right as I went to her left. Of course, right as I’m next to her vehicle, she decides to turn left to try to get out of the way and nearly hits me. Not a bright lady, to put it nicely.

A great result for the team: 2nd (Greg), 4th (Josh), 6th (me) and 12th (Jeremy Miller). As for my own personal assessment, I was happy with the result. Definitely stronger than I was on Sunshine a month ago. I still don’t have that characteristic punch in my legs when I get out of the saddle – I can’t “make things happen” just yet. But, that will come. That’s the final piece of the sharpening and I’ve got 6 weeks to do it. Had a nice post-race ride with Mike Mutzel of MixOne and Bart Abriol (my teammate; Bart ended up 32nd). We headed over to Ward, then over the backside of Lee Hill for some extra climbing miles.

As I stated earlier, time will tell . . .

Ride safe,
Nate