Originally Posted by Tyrell

Below is more than you ever wanted to hear about the 66-mile Cat 4 Texas State Championship Road Race at Ft. Hood. Skip to the bottom for the TLDR.


The first 33-mile lap was pretty tame with no one wanting to really push the pace except for a couple guys that tried a VERY early break. At first I was cursing myself for being in bad position to be able to react but then realized there was a LOT of race left and with it only being 2 guys (and pretty windy) they were unlikely to stay away. Sure enough, they were re-absorbed into the pack after a short while. I stayed in the first 30-ish riders for most all of the first lap.

The feed zone was right after the start/finish and was pretty much the beginning of the real race. While some slowed for a bottle hand-up, many (like myself) accelerated through on the left side of the road and just moved a bottle from a back pocket to a frame cage. Glad my buddy suggested carrying a third bottle! I was originally planning to get a hand-up but that would have put me at a notable disadvantage.

The pace was noticeably higher after the feed zone and I focused on staying near the front to cover anything that looked promising. There were surges at each of the hills but nothing really got away. Well, 2 guys got away but I wasn't worried...the pack was ready to race now. At about mile 43, I caught up with my friend in the pack and we agreed to try a break at mile 48 which would be just before the last hill leading into a sharp corner and the long stretch into the wind. Was it a good plan? We wouldn't find out.

A break/chase of 8 appeared to be forming only a couple miles later and I thought that with a little organization, this could be the group to catch the 2 ahead and be the winning move. So I went for it. After chasing up, I found the group mostly disorganized with guys taking pretty long pulls considering the size of the group. I started barking orders, "Get to the front then pull off! Short pulls, guys! We've got 9 and we can stay away if we work smart! C'mon!" That seemed to do the trick. Once everybody got into a rhythm, we were really cooking and opened a good gap quickly. Man, I love getting into breaks.

We soon caught the 2 escapees who integrated back into our group. 11 strong now! This was it! Uh-oh...one guy popped. Sweet...I just need to ride this in and I've got a top-10 wrapped up! I wasn't feeling very fresh though. The hills, the surges, and not enough eating and drinking were beginning to take their toll. A couple guys were really strong as they came to the front and routinely gapped the group as everyone hustled to stay tight behind them. I told one guy to watch his pace as he came to the front and he probably interpreted that as, "Dude, you're stronger than everyone else here." That's how I would have interpreted it, anyway.

I eventually started to dangle off the back and even had to chase back on a couple times. I was popped at mile 54-ish, left to fight the wind and climb the hills alone. I knew this was NOT the stretch of road I wanted to get dropped on (is there even an ideal place to get dropped?) but I just couldn't keep the pace anymore. So I soldiered on solo for what seemed like an eternity, hoping my feeble effort to keep going would still let me finish ahead of whoever was chasing us. I had a good bit of time to myself out there. I was constantly fighting off the mind demons who constantly urged me to sit up and call it a day as I watched the gap between me and the podium grow and grow.

Finally, a chase group appeared on a horizon behind me and caught me at about mile 58. I dug in and integrated into the group, just trying to hold on until the end. I continued to struggle to stay with the group but luckily they weren't as organized as the lead group and guys were taking longer pulls (giving me more rest). They also scattered on every climb in kind of an "every man for himself" move. The surges up hills continued to sap any reserves I had left and I again found myself dangling off the back.

I was able to stay in contact until the 1k sign when the group started lighting fireworks. I pressed to stay within fighting distance of the stragglers ahead of me. At what I guessed was 100m before the 200m sign, I "launched" my "sprint." Screaming legs, quads and calves threatening to lock up, HR pulsing my eyeballs. I passed one guy..yes! Closing on another....boom! Looks like that's all I'll catch but I'm gonna keep going anyway in case someone in front of me has some drama. No luck. A little puke 50m from the line and I was done with my 2013 season.

I heard the winner solo'ed from 13 miles out. Bravo!


TLDR: First lap was pretty much neutral with the real race starting on lap 2. I got into/organized a break 45 miles into the 66-mile race that ended up being the winning move but I couldn't hang on. Got caught by a chase group and gutted it out for 20th place.