6/20/09: Mike Horgan Hill Climb

If the Mt. Evans hill climb is the Mt. Ventoux of Colorado, then this year’s Mike Horgan Hill Climb course up Magnolia Rd. is our L’Alpe D’Huez. 18 miles in a little under 90 minutes; the middle 8 miles on dirt; pitches as steep as 20-25%. It’s an epic climb for even the best mountain goats. To finish is a great accomplishment; to win equates to some serious bragging rights at any age bracket or racing category.

The senior men 3s constituted a small but fairly stacked field. For a pure climbers’ race, you rarely get a large field. Horgan would be a waste of time for the flat lander and criterium specialists. This was a case of quality over quantity, for sure.

We set off with the 35+ 3s 20sec behind us (why, I have no clue; they caught us fairly near the beginning. Duh!!). I ended up on the front, for no particular reason. Just setting a modest pace out of the parking lot and onto Canyon Rd. as we began the gradual ascent to the left turn onto the beast known as Magnolia Rd. Nobody came by me. Until the 35+ crew caught us and a handful of those blokes shot by. We became grupo compacto and started chugging our way toward Magnolia. The legs were feeling pretty good. Not stellar, but strong enough. I could tell it was going to be a very good but not great day. There would be no excuses at the top, regardless of how well or poorly I ended up doing.

From my various pre-rides on the course, my plan all along had been to set a steady, solid tempo up Magnolia and hold it steady at around 165-172 HR. If that meant I was alone at the top or with 20 others, it didn't matter. I knew how hard I could go and still race strong to the finish line, another 45min or so after completing the paved section of Magnolia – a 4.5-mile stretch of road.

At 16:10, we hit the left hand turn onto Magnolia. After an instant and very short dip down, the road takes a viscous ramp up into a sweeping right switchback followed immediately by another back to the left. The initial switchback to the right is in excess of 20% and the one back to the left is no less steep. The road refuses to flatten over the most of the first 2.5 miles up Magnolia. As we hit the first switchbacks, I searched for my rhythm, sat down and settled in. Evan Gotseos from the Turin team (he ended up 3rd on the day), pressed the pace so I latched on to his wheel. Wasn't too long before I saw my HR hit 175. Oops. Turns out I was in the 175-180 range for the majority of the paved Magnolia climb.

Evan and I seesawed the lead for the first 2 miles up Magnolia. Sounded like there was a 3rd guy on our wheels but that guy never pulled through so not sure who it was or if it was phantom panting I was hearing; I didn’t look back to check. At the 2-mile mark, Evan said he had to back off and encouraged me to stick with him so we could work together. Otherwise, he said I would be on my own. I looked down and saw 176 for my HR. Oh, well. Plan A out the window. I decided this was OK. I was feeling pretty good and kept the pressure on, deciding to go it alone. Which I did for the final hour of the race.

Based on how my pre-rides went, I set some time goals for the race. This was to help me mete out my effort more evenly and to see on how many cylinders I was firing (I’d say 7 of 8). My goal was to hit the top of Magnolia (paved) in under 30min, the 9-mile marker on the dirt at an hour flat and Peak-to-Peak Hwy at 1:10 flat. I ended up cresting paved Mag in 29:20, and hit the other 2 checkpoints spot-on. I must be an oracle! ;-)

The 8 miles of dirt undulate. It’s a stretch to recover a little bit from the initial grunt, however it’s also a place to lose gobs of time. If you fail to keep the pressure on, you can fall into a lull so you think you’re pushing hard enough but you’re really not. My 9-mile and Peak-to-Peak Hwy time marks were to make sure I kept myself honest during this crucial stretch. At the top of the paved section of Magnolia, Evan was not too far behind. As I pressed the pace and hit Peak-to-Peak Highway, no one was in sight behind me. After a short snaking downhill to Nederland – a throwback town full of hippies and, generally, folks who refuse to admit this is the 21st century – the course takes a sharp sweep to the left into the closing 15 minutes of the race. The road is a false flat as it takes us past Nederland HS and up to the road which ultimately takes racers up to the Eldora ski mountain.

I felt pretty darn good until I passed Ned HS, just in time to hit the climb to Eldora. Spending an hour alone with no help and no respite which being within a group offers took its toll. In training, I've hit this final climb in just over 10 minutes, so I figured in the race I could break 10min. Well, it took me 11 minutes! My legs were starting to cramp, so it was an exercise if gritting the teeth and pushing through it to the end. I was suffering at that point. Guess I shouldn't have expected any less. I crossed the line spent, but elated that I could finally claim victory in a hill climb race!

Behind me, things were really heating up. A lead of nearly 2:30 at the base of the climb up to Eldora started to evaporate. By the time the chase group crossed the finish line, my lead had been whittled down to a scant 45 seconds. The chasers, which included my teammate, Ben Buxton, crushed that final climb in around 9:30! Ben ended up having a great race behind me. He was really strong and had the courage to do his own race instead of trying to go with the surges ahead of him. And, he didn't succumb to the pressure others were exerting to get him to work more within their group of 5-6. He remained tranquillo and was able to reel in the surges time and again, finishing a very strong and respectable 4th on the day.

Two things I noticed first hand on the day . . . (1) how explosive the accelerations from the Pro/1/2 group can be. I caught 2 pros who started 8 minutes ahead of me on the downhill to Nederland right before the sweeping left turn which led us to Ned HS. As we took that sweeping left, those guys got out of the saddle and accelerated like nobody's business. Immediately put 5 seconds on me. I caught and passed them right by the HS, but it was a shocker to see what sort of explosive power the 'big boys' have in their legs. (2) A lot of energy can be saved by riding with others. Sure, this is pretty obvious, but the value of compatriots cannot be minimized. I made the choice to go it alone – IMO, the right choice. But, clearly, I was fraying the ends of my rope in the waning minutes of the race. I felt like a rabbit on the final climb of a mountaintop Tour stage. Did I go too early or would I have the legs to hold my lead to the end? Based on how I felt on the 8 miles of dirt, I was confident I would win; especially as my lead expanded during that time from roughly 30sec to nearly 2:30. The lesson learned here? It takes a long time to build up a lead which can be decimated in just a fraction of the time.

Still, I wouldn’t change a thing. Power numbers were solid, and my power/weight ratio is above 5.0 watts/kg for my 20min value for the first time. This is where I wanted to be heading into Mt. Evans on July 19, so a little ahead of schedule with certainly some room to grow still.

Next up: The Dead Dog stage race in Laramie, WY, this weekend. An 85-mile road race, cresting 2 passes at over 10,500 feet and with an uphill finish on Saturday. On Sunday, there’s a crit in the morning followed by an ITT a few hours later. Lowest cumulative time wins. Can’t wait!

Ride safe,
Nate

6/11/09: Litmus Test

Great ride yesterday a.m. with Ben Buxton. Third time up Magnolia in past 2 weeks as prep for the Mike Horgan HC on the 20th. In my nearly 16 years in the Boulder area, yesterday’s ride was the first time where I hit the top and thought, “Now I’ve got it.” Now I know exactly how to attack this wicked climb. Which will serve me well on race day.

This will be the first HC race of the year where I’ve had my climbing legs. Lookout Mtn was too early, and I was still sick at Sunshine 3 weeks ago. Guess I’ll find out exactly what this means in about 9 days. But for now it feels pretty damn awesome.

The Mike Horgan HC represents the first step into what I consider the meat of the season. The following weekend is the Dead Dog stage race in Laramie, WY. Three weeks after that is the Mt. Evans HC state champs, followed 2 weeks later by the Salida RR state champs, followed a week later by the Niwot Criterium state champs. Five big events, five large expectations – both self-imposed as well as for the team.

Can’t wait . . .

Ride safe,
Nate

5/31/09: Scott Kornfield Memorial Circuit Race

It is great to see a race’s plans come together and be executed nearly flawlessly. What made the day’s successes all the sweeter is that this was our team’s race and the memorial race for Scott Kornfield. As you may recall, Scott was killed on Memorial Day 4 years ago when he and I were heading out for a challenging ride up into the mountains. Racing hard and aggressively, and having fun doing so, would be the best way to do honor to Scott’s memory. The presence of Scott’s family made the say all the more significant and symbolic.

The winding 1.5-mile circuit through the Colorado Tech Center in Louisville is not in-and-of-itself super challenging. There are 2 gradual uphill sections and a gradual, sweeping downhill section as well. Lots of 90-degree turns, as well as twists and turns, which forces the peloton to cut the tangents back and forth across the road. There is also one intersection which quickly narrows to a cattle chute from the full road to just one lane due to a cement central median. The technical nature of cutting the tangents as well as the cattle chute just before the uphill to the start/finish line are what cause this race to be super aggressive and, given the nature of the course, fast from the gun. The average speed for the hour-long race was just shy of 26mph.

Our team came in with a Plan A – go on the offensive and initiate attacks; cover dangerous attacks by other teams or riders; make our presence known at the front of the race – and a Plan B – if the race is grupo compacto at the end, then the team would move to the front and line it out for our best sprinter on the day, who could have been one of 3 folks but ended up being Matt Drinker. Little did we know that we would employ both Plans before the end of the race.

The whistle blew and the pack jetted up the road. From the very beginning, the racing was particularly spirited. Fairly quickly I found myself toward the back of the group, looking for a place to slot in over the course of the first 3 laps as the peloton (hopefully) found its groove and settled in. Which ended up never happening. This was as hotly a contested criterium as I’ve done in 4 years of racing. In order to hold my reins in a little longer than usual, Ben Buxton raised his hand to make the first attack. About 12 minutes into the race, he went off the front, but was quickly shut down. The course is not challenging enough to really allow early attacks to go, though many individual riders tried.

At 15min, I got fed up with the ebb and flow of the intensity and went to the front. Not as an attack, but to string it out for a few minutes. To get my own bearings, if nothing else. There I sat for 4-5min, about 2 laps. Saw my HR hit 180 and decided to ease off the throttle and settle back in. Not sure it did any good for the peloton, but blowing out the carbon did my own mindset some good.

One of my jobs was to go on the attack at about the halfway point – so, 30min into the race. My other job was to mark the heavy hitters – such as the 2 young guns from the 5280 squad (the Garmin Slipstream feeder program), Yannick Eckmann and David Kessler. Robbie Stout from VeloNews was also on hand and would be one to watch. Given they finished 2nd, 4th and 3rd respectively, marking them ended up being the right thing to do.

At halfway, we hit a prime lap and Kessler jumped for it. Coming through the start/finish line, Eckmann bridged up and the 2 quickly forged a 150-200m gap. The alarm bells went off in my head and when the peloton didn’t immediately react, I jumped right and took off after them up the rest of the rise before the hard right hand turn into the sweeping left hand downhill section of the course. As I cranked downhill, I saw that Stout was on my wheel and we had a gap on the peloton. And we were closing in on Kessler and Eckmann. A fifth rider bridged up to me and Stout just as we caught the 2 front runners, making a breakaway group of 5. “This is the winning move,” I thought. Especially with the confidence that my teammates would be doing what they could to disrupt any chase behind us.

However, the 5 of us never got in our groove. Just as we would establish a rhythm, someone would need a longer breather and not be able to pull through. In the interim, 4 more riders bridged up to give us a group of 9. We still had a sizable enough lead on the peloton and one would think a group of 9 could stay away. However, the lack of cohesion doomed the break to failure. After about 10min, we were reintegrated into the mix. It was categorically the right move to make given the players, despite the move’s failure. A few solo attacks off the front were immediately shut down and it became obvious we were going to have to shift to Plan B.

With the “5 laps to go” announcement, Andrew Bagnato (who doubled as the co-race director and put in tons of time the entire week prior to the race) came up next to me and said he was going to sacrifice himself for the team. Andrew’s got some amazing power in his legs and a top sprinter in his own right, so my guess was that he was feeling a bit off his game given how much energy he had already spent making race day a great success. I told him to go to the front and give it whatever he could. He went to the front and started lining things out, bringing us through the “4 laps to go” announcement. Matt Drinker (of all folks) was right on Andrew’s wheel, sitting second. At this point, I (erroneously) figured Matt was still feeling fatigue from placing 2nd at the long Hugo road race the previous day and, thus, was coming to the fore to help set up one of our other sprinters. We were fully committed at this point to keep the pace high, put ourselves into the hurt locker and take the race to the line.

Andrew had hit his limit partway through the lap and the pace started to wane. I pulled out the proverbial riding crop and started whipping Andrew and Matt, yelling, “C’mon, keep it going, keep it going!” At that point, Ben came through and pulled for a bit, taking us through the “3 laps to go announcement”. With Ben taking over the lead, I jumped on his wheel in second position. I figured we were slotting in for the final run at this point, as Andrew tailed off and Matt faded back. As we came through the start/finish line, the pace started to wane again, so out came the riding crop. Ben dug a bit deeper, but just then 3 guys from the Turin team forced their way to the front.

The last thing I wanted – that I think the whole team wanted – was to lose control of the race this late in the game. So, with 2.5 laps to go, I came around Ben and motored past the Turin riders. It was time to give every last ounce of energy to my part of the leadout train. As I moved to the fore, over the past couple laps, I had noticed we had 6 riders on the front. That provided great motivation to lay it all out. I came through the start/finish line with 2 laps to go and just kept my head down, using the roar of the crowd as jet fuel. If someone besides another Feedback rider was going to come past me, it was going to be after I barfed up a lung or two. With 1.5 laps to go, my HR hit 185. Coming through the start/finish line at the “1 lap to go!” announcement, it hit 186. My max HR is 191, so I was quickly reaching my absolute limit. As we turned right and swept through the lefthand bending downhill, Ben started shouting at me. I couldn’t understand him. Looking down, my HR had hit 187.

Ben shouted again. Since I was hemorrhaging out my eyes and ears, I figured he was telling me it was time to pull off and let him take over. I put my head down, led us safely through the sweeping right hand turn and, with 0.5 laps to go, pulled off to the side. When you give yourself permission to ease off – or when others give you that permission – it is amazing how much MORE pain and discomfort washes over you once you shut it down. One second I was trying to eek out another 25-50m out of myself for the leadout, the next second I pull off and can all of a sudden barely turn my pedals over. I gained a new appreciation for every member of a successful leadout train in the pro peloton. I was so cooked that I faded back to 54th place in the course of the final half-lap. Between gasps, I shouted for Ben and the rest of the team to “Go, go, go!!”

Ben led Matt Duncan and Matt Drinker through the uphill sweep to the left to the cattle chute before pulling off. At that point, Duncan jammed it the 100m to the final right hand turn for the final uphill drag race to the finish line, about a quarter-mile up the road. I watched the 2 Matt’s make the final right hand turn and was amazed to see them with a 5sec cushion on the rest of the field. When you’re hurting on the front, you have no idea what’s going on behind you. Are people sitting up having a spot of tea, are they sitting fairly comfortable on your wheel, or are their lights about to go out? In this case, we had put the peloton in a spot of trouble.

The finish was a formality. As Duncan hit his limit, he asked Drinker if he could go. As Duncan put it, Drinker’s simple response of “Yeah!” was as calm and confident as could be. Drinker shot past and tore up the road, extending his lead over the rest of the peloton. Duncan was already raising his hands a couple hundred meters before the finish line as our teammate left us all in a cloud of dust. Peter Dunlap crossed in 20th, snapping up the final point in the BAT (Best All-around Team) competition. The rest of us rolled through in the 30s and 50s, completely spent.

Yet, also completely full and elated. The excruciating discomfort of the leadout faded immediately, replaced by the satisfaction of the team’s job well done. As I cooled down, I mused that the sense of accomplishment was greater when helping a teammate win than when winning myself. That we were able to win this race – our team’s race, Scott’s race – was all the sweeter. And that we were able to plan and execute a start-to-finish race strategy was priceless.

Ride safe,
Nate