Criterium race report - 3/25/2012
For those that don’t know what a criterium is... go here.
I arrived at the Durango Wheel Club Criterium with blue skies and a slight chill in the air. I wore a thin Under Armor long sleeve, a short sleeve DWC Jersey and rode my carbon Scott CR1.
I warmed up slowly on the course and watched as fellow racers showed up to the race. Of course everyone looks fast as hell, some I know, others I didn’t who wore team kits and then the a couple of young and strong fast-twitch riders. Thus begins my personal mind games, “Oh shit, Bob is here...”, “Holy crap he is on a $10k bike..”, “Son of a B*tch that guy throttled me yesterday during our long group ride”. The point is, I had to quickly do something to control not being intimidated and remember my mental training. I breathed slowly and deeply, and let these thoughts dissolve by closing my eyes, facing the sun and smiling...
After a 5 minute warning, we were at the start line. The race director provided the race instructions; thankfully, this is early season so it was a 30 minute +5 laps. (Typically, it is 40-45 minutes +5 laps). As he spoke, my heart began to pound and my mind wandered with thoughts of doubt: “Why am I doing this...?” , “Oh, I will sit back and not hurt, it is ok to be last...”, “I was just sick two weeks ago, I cannot keep up anyway...”. For the second time, I realized what my mind was doing and quickly focused on my breathing and let go of these negative thoughts. I instead thought: “Fuck it, let’s put it all on the line and hurt these Muther F’ers, they are going to hurt as bad as I am...” (at least for as long as I can hurt em!) :)
So, with this raw and unbridled attitude, I would have trouble holding back. The race director yelled “Go!”, I quickly moved to the lead positioned, I felt like Lance Armstrong! However, that was short lived, and pulled the group for 10 minutes. My heart was pounding out of my chest and I felt like a fish out of water, “NOT ENOUGH OXYGEN”, and the entire time, I kept thinking, “if I can make them hurt a bit now, they will not make it hurt as bad later (I was wrong).” However, I was starting to blow-up, my legs were turning into lead, my lungs were screaming. I quickly glanced at my cycle computer and my heart rate was nearing 95% of its max. I had to be careful or I would not even be able to finish the race with 20’ish minutes remaining. I gathered my senses and gave the customary signal by moving out of the paceline and slowed allowing the rider behind me move up and set the pace. I positioned a few spots back to recover and watch what the group would do next.
However, the recovery was short lived as the race director began shaking a yellow bell and the sounds of ‘ding, ding, ding, ding’ were heard across the pack. The first Prim! The fast-twitch young guys took off, I thought to leap and follow them but quickly realized the pack is letting them go. I stayed with the pack. It was a breakaway of two riders. These riders got half-a-lap ahead of the main pack.
The pack worked together for the next 10 minutes slowly catching the breakaway riders and we all rode together an additional 5 minutes above my tempo pace. Five minutes were remaining before the last 5 laps. Physically and mentally, I had to start preparing for the end of the race effort. I focused on lowering my heart rate while maintaining the fast effort.
While the end of the race was approaching, I noticed an older rider providing coaching advice to the younger riders. He was advising them to start picking up the pace. This was to start dropping folks from the pack. The idea is to pick up the pace before we really sprint the last few laps reducing the numbers that can podium (1st, 2nd or 3rd place). I thought, oh “F*ck, here it goes, I am glad I was able to get a small recovery and my HR was at tempo”
The pace picks up and I keep my front wheel inches from the rear wheel of the rider ahead of me. I quickly glance back and see, one, two, three and others drop off. I am in the top 4 positions! Three laps remaining and then the pain really begins, the youngins notch up the pace to a sprint, I stand up and start hammering the pedals to stay on a wheel. I got dropped..., their fast twitch sprint muscles put my 40 year old slow twitch body to shame. However, I noticed that the 4th rider in the lead pack got dropped and was sitting up on the bike. I was 3rd, after sprinting around the final laps, I finished 3rd..
Afterwards, I was mentally on top of the world, the race was over, the endorphins were pounding and I got criterium points towards the Durango Wheel Club Crit series.
Lesson’s learned:
1) Don’t lead, don’t lead, don’t lead. Conserve my power for when it can really count.
2) Possibly work more tightly with the 40+ men’s riders and put together a strategy that can put us ‘ole’ folks in a better position by the end of the race.
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