Join Date: Sep 2006
Bikes: 2007 CAAD9; 2014 CAADX; PedalForce CG1
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Cold Toes, a no brainer.
*tweeeeeeeeet* and we're off. Clip in, settle in behind a teammate and I'm third wheel. From the laps we had done before the B race started, I knew that turn 1 would lead straight into a wall of wind, not the best place to follow our strategy of attack, counter-attack, and try not to get dropped.
Two laps in and my teammate takes a solo flyer. He's got a good gap, and I'm doing my best to disrupt NCVC's chase. The NCVC rider who's been working pulls off to the side, looks back, and I smile at him. He looks back at me, and says "pull through!". I don't, and by this point I think he's put 2 and 2 together, realizing that I've got a man up the road. As he drifts back, I take my turn at the front doing just enough work to open the gap up some more. Turns out NCVC rider was drifting back to call in the artillery: he's back with a teammate. A big one. A big one who knows how to ride aggressively. I tried to block more, but the two of them manage to keep me from getting between them. He gets assimilated.
Next lap, and it's my turn. A couple hundred yards before turn 2 and I attack, giving it a good amount of power but not so much to put me "into the red zone" as Liggett would say. I look back, and there's a decent gap, so I settle in for the long haul. As I ride by the start/finish, I hear my wife shouting at me. I push a little harder. I hit "the wall" (not referring to a killer hill here, but the face full of wind) and keep pushing through. I've been off the front for a lap now. More teammates are shouting me on from the side of the road, and I dig a little deeper. I get assimilated.
Drifting back into the pack, I share some words with some of the guys. The pack settles into the mid-race pace and things seem pretty calm for the time being. A couple more attacks go off, but I'm too busy recovering to notice who it is. Sorry if it was one of our guys.
About halfway into the race, an NCVC rider takes a flyer off the front. I don't see anyone following, so I jump and bridge up to him. I catch him shortly after the first turn and shout "You wanna work?" figuring we've got the two best-represented teams in the field. Guess he must have thought the same, as he replied "hell yeah". So we're exchanging pulls, and I'm feeling good. We're about equal strength, though he has some issues keeping a straight line and when he pulls off he pulls way too far over to the side. Whatever, it's working. I keep checking our 6 and the gap is good. Two laps we've been off the front now, and as we chug along the back side I turn around and notice Red Jersey charging up to us. We decide to wait for him. Bad idea. He catches us and just hammers. I'm trying my best to hold his wheel, and NCVC is just gone. Half a lap later and the pack has caught us, probably recognizing Red Jersey's strength.
As we cross the start/finish, I see a couple of teammates taking off from the front with a couple of other riders on their wheel. I figured this looked to be a good break, and eased up a bit to let the gap open. I turn around, and think "oh ****". There's one guy on my wheel. The entire field is in front of me.
Quick check of the legs and they're feeling decent, not great after two breaks but decent. I call for warp speed, and drop the last guy on my wheel. Chug chug chug drink, chug chug chug drink, the gap isn't shrinking. 24mph and the gap isn't shrinking. wtf. chug chug chug drink, suddenly Scotty calls up from engineering and says we've got a warp core breach. well crap. I tell him that's unacceptable, we must have more power, and he comes back with some smartass remark about being an engineer and not a freakin magician. All the cheering in the world isn't gonna close this gap.
One mental mistake, one second of not realizing my position in the pack, and I was screwed. as I pulled off, one big sprint still in my legs, I try not to get too angry at myself. It's a training race, and I learned some great things today.
And hey, at least I didn't fall over trying to clip in at the line. Poor kid. God, I love Junior racers... they're so cute.
"When you are chewing the bars at the business end of a 90 mile road race you really dont care what gear you have hanging from your bike so long as it works."
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