JOSEPHWEISSERT
Zen MBB Master
In a race, anything goes. It’s all about conservation. That means using others as much as possible to gain an advantage. Sometimes, somebody will complain. As in, “you just sat in the back while everybody else did all the work, and then you jumped out front!” Some people will complain like that and then go on to take advantage of someone else when the opportunity presents itself. But that’s the way it is. Anything goes. The purpose is to win, period. So it can get ruthless.
I’ve been nursing my knee since Calvin’s. I’ve been staying off the bike more than normal to let my knee heal up. It’s getting better every ride. But I feel like I’m losing my fitness, detraining my aerobic system, losing what I built from all the hard work over the winter. It’s probably partly the psychological impact of an injury as well as recovering from a big endurance event. It’s still early in the season and my anaerobic power is probably not too bad, but I feel like it is. So I’ve been feeling out-of-sorts and worrying.
Saturday, I was able to get out in front of the group and stay out, but that’s not as fast a group. I was able to get back to the shop before anyone else, and fend off a last minute attempt by two riders to catch me – they failed. But I still wasn’t feeling it. I did an aerobic ride on Sunday. Then Monday night, on an A ride, my Garmin wouldn’t boot up and my front brake was sticking and probably dragging. I was riding blind (without the Garmin) and feeling sapped. I just wasn't able to go out front and stay out with unlimited power. So I wasn’t expecting much at the Thursday night ride. I felt like I should just go ride with the B group so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. I didn’t want to damage my knee more, so I planned to take it easy. As you’ll see, that take-it-easy plan went out the window.
I rolled out of the shop parking lot with the A group. Along the way out, we picked up a couple more riders, so the group grew to 12 of the fastest riders around. I followed a little behind the group for quite a few miles. It was pretty easy off the back until one guy on the front jacked up the speed to over 30 mph for a while. A rider dropped off the back of the group in front of me – the first casualty of the night. I was getting too far off the back, so I swung around the dropped rider, and sped up to 35 mph and chased the pack for a minute or so until I caught on. I was still feeling like I didn’t have it. We got to the big sprint, and things got a little crazy, as expected. I followed a couple of fast sprinters as people fell back. There were three in front of me that got to the sign first. I still wasn’t feeling it. We continued on for a few more miles. The group was doing a double pace line, which can burn out those riders who are barely hanging on. The group dwindled to six riders, only half the original size. We were approaching an uphill sprint and the double pace line was starting to break up. I expected someone to jump, so I pulled around left of the group and proceeded to move out. The sprint apparently fizzled, maybe because I got the jump on the group or maybe they all just decided not to try it. Either way, I took the sign and then just kept on going. All of a sudden, I felt like pulling a sneak attack. But it’s 11.5 long miles to the last sign. That’s a lot of sneaking. I thought I would give it a try to see how far I could go before getting caught. I had nothing to lose and a good workout and bragging rights to gain.
It looked like the riders were trying to regroup. The idea was probably strength in numbers so they could go fast and catch me quicker. I’m sure they weren’t too worried about catching me – it’s just one guy, and he’s on a stupid recumbent. How long can he last? I was thinking the same thing. If they were trying to regroup, the time they were wasting would give me precious seconds to pull a big enough gap between the group and myself. I fully expected the group to chase me down and overtake me soon, but the regrouping lasted a little too long. I kept on going and looking back. I couldn’t see the group coming yet. I needed to stay way out front long enough to get to the turn, which is 1.7 miles from where I jumped. I didn’t want them to see me turn. The normal route included a bad section of road. I planned to avoid that bad section by taking an alternate route that has great pavement, but is a tenth of a mile longer – a good tradeoff. And I wanted to get far enough up the alternate road so they wouldn’t see that I had turned. Out of sight, out of mind. I expected them to blow by the turn and not look up the road and see me. But I wanted to get as far up the road as possible to minimize the chance of being seen anyway. Basically, I wanted to pull a disappearing act, like a ghost bike. Maybe I was there, or maybe I wasn’t. Otherwise, I would be the rabbit and they would put out all available power in a rotating pace line to catch me. And if they had five or more strong riders, they could do it. If they couldn’t see me, they wouldn’t know for sure I was still out there. And they probably wouldn’t go as fast.
I made it to the turn and kept up my pace. I was able to stay between 23 and 26 mph. I started to think about how far ahead I was and how fast they were going. They might be going 25 to 28 mph, I guessed, based on the group’s earlier speed. I needed to go as fast as maintainable, because it was safe to assume they were gaining on me, even if I couldn’t see them yet. I kept watching in my mirrors, but I didn’t see them go by where I had turned. Then I was so far up the road that, if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me either.
I went 1.8 miles on my alternate route. I approached the intersection where I would rejoin the main route. I expected to see the group coming up to the intersection. It would be all over for my plan if they were there. I didn’t have a stop sign, so I turned right at high speed and looked off to my left quickly to see if the group was there. Still no sign of the group. The next task would be to go 1.5 miles more and dump out on the main drag. I kept going, my heart rate running around 165, a high but very sustainable pace. My legs were pushing hard, but they were able to handle it. The speed was staying in the 23 to 26 mph range, so I was still doing well, speed-wise. I felt like I was going to be able to sustain the power output. I was finally feeling pretty good, not great, but good.
I dumped out onto the main drag with six and a half miles to go until the end. I pushed the pedals, and tried to get up over the hill and around some curves before they got to the main drag. I still needed to stay invisible as long as possible. I went on for a few miles, just cranking as hard as was sustainable and watching over my shoulders. Still no sign of them. But they were back there, I knew it. If they saw me, my chances would diminish. I continued over hills and around curves. Going, going, going. Still couldn’t see them. I was approaching the final curves. I looked back and couldn’t tell for sure, but I might have seen the group. Maybe it was my imagination. Or maybe not. Oh crap, I really needed to get moving. I couldn’t take a chance. I pushed the speed up as much as I could sustain and just pounded on around the curves. I fully expected them to just pop up in my mirrors in a huge final sprint and just blow right by me. Then I saw the sign. I let off a little and coasted by. Feeling good. I crossed the intersection and turned right at the next street on the way back to the shop. I turned left at the following intersection, looked back and there they were! Sure enough, they had been right on my tail the whole time, but just far enough back to be out of sight. If I had let up, they would have caught me. The plan worked. Not too shabby for a sneaky bastard.
I’ve been nursing my knee since Calvin’s. I’ve been staying off the bike more than normal to let my knee heal up. It’s getting better every ride. But I feel like I’m losing my fitness, detraining my aerobic system, losing what I built from all the hard work over the winter. It’s probably partly the psychological impact of an injury as well as recovering from a big endurance event. It’s still early in the season and my anaerobic power is probably not too bad, but I feel like it is. So I’ve been feeling out-of-sorts and worrying.
Saturday, I was able to get out in front of the group and stay out, but that’s not as fast a group. I was able to get back to the shop before anyone else, and fend off a last minute attempt by two riders to catch me – they failed. But I still wasn’t feeling it. I did an aerobic ride on Sunday. Then Monday night, on an A ride, my Garmin wouldn’t boot up and my front brake was sticking and probably dragging. I was riding blind (without the Garmin) and feeling sapped. I just wasn't able to go out front and stay out with unlimited power. So I wasn’t expecting much at the Thursday night ride. I felt like I should just go ride with the B group so I wouldn’t embarrass myself. I didn’t want to damage my knee more, so I planned to take it easy. As you’ll see, that take-it-easy plan went out the window.
I rolled out of the shop parking lot with the A group. Along the way out, we picked up a couple more riders, so the group grew to 12 of the fastest riders around. I followed a little behind the group for quite a few miles. It was pretty easy off the back until one guy on the front jacked up the speed to over 30 mph for a while. A rider dropped off the back of the group in front of me – the first casualty of the night. I was getting too far off the back, so I swung around the dropped rider, and sped up to 35 mph and chased the pack for a minute or so until I caught on. I was still feeling like I didn’t have it. We got to the big sprint, and things got a little crazy, as expected. I followed a couple of fast sprinters as people fell back. There were three in front of me that got to the sign first. I still wasn’t feeling it. We continued on for a few more miles. The group was doing a double pace line, which can burn out those riders who are barely hanging on. The group dwindled to six riders, only half the original size. We were approaching an uphill sprint and the double pace line was starting to break up. I expected someone to jump, so I pulled around left of the group and proceeded to move out. The sprint apparently fizzled, maybe because I got the jump on the group or maybe they all just decided not to try it. Either way, I took the sign and then just kept on going. All of a sudden, I felt like pulling a sneak attack. But it’s 11.5 long miles to the last sign. That’s a lot of sneaking. I thought I would give it a try to see how far I could go before getting caught. I had nothing to lose and a good workout and bragging rights to gain.
It looked like the riders were trying to regroup. The idea was probably strength in numbers so they could go fast and catch me quicker. I’m sure they weren’t too worried about catching me – it’s just one guy, and he’s on a stupid recumbent. How long can he last? I was thinking the same thing. If they were trying to regroup, the time they were wasting would give me precious seconds to pull a big enough gap between the group and myself. I fully expected the group to chase me down and overtake me soon, but the regrouping lasted a little too long. I kept on going and looking back. I couldn’t see the group coming yet. I needed to stay way out front long enough to get to the turn, which is 1.7 miles from where I jumped. I didn’t want them to see me turn. The normal route included a bad section of road. I planned to avoid that bad section by taking an alternate route that has great pavement, but is a tenth of a mile longer – a good tradeoff. And I wanted to get far enough up the alternate road so they wouldn’t see that I had turned. Out of sight, out of mind. I expected them to blow by the turn and not look up the road and see me. But I wanted to get as far up the road as possible to minimize the chance of being seen anyway. Basically, I wanted to pull a disappearing act, like a ghost bike. Maybe I was there, or maybe I wasn’t. Otherwise, I would be the rabbit and they would put out all available power in a rotating pace line to catch me. And if they had five or more strong riders, they could do it. If they couldn’t see me, they wouldn’t know for sure I was still out there. And they probably wouldn’t go as fast.
I made it to the turn and kept up my pace. I was able to stay between 23 and 26 mph. I started to think about how far ahead I was and how fast they were going. They might be going 25 to 28 mph, I guessed, based on the group’s earlier speed. I needed to go as fast as maintainable, because it was safe to assume they were gaining on me, even if I couldn’t see them yet. I kept watching in my mirrors, but I didn’t see them go by where I had turned. Then I was so far up the road that, if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me either.
I went 1.8 miles on my alternate route. I approached the intersection where I would rejoin the main route. I expected to see the group coming up to the intersection. It would be all over for my plan if they were there. I didn’t have a stop sign, so I turned right at high speed and looked off to my left quickly to see if the group was there. Still no sign of the group. The next task would be to go 1.5 miles more and dump out on the main drag. I kept going, my heart rate running around 165, a high but very sustainable pace. My legs were pushing hard, but they were able to handle it. The speed was staying in the 23 to 26 mph range, so I was still doing well, speed-wise. I felt like I was going to be able to sustain the power output. I was finally feeling pretty good, not great, but good.
I dumped out onto the main drag with six and a half miles to go until the end. I pushed the pedals, and tried to get up over the hill and around some curves before they got to the main drag. I still needed to stay invisible as long as possible. I went on for a few miles, just cranking as hard as was sustainable and watching over my shoulders. Still no sign of them. But they were back there, I knew it. If they saw me, my chances would diminish. I continued over hills and around curves. Going, going, going. Still couldn’t see them. I was approaching the final curves. I looked back and couldn’t tell for sure, but I might have seen the group. Maybe it was my imagination. Or maybe not. Oh crap, I really needed to get moving. I couldn’t take a chance. I pushed the speed up as much as I could sustain and just pounded on around the curves. I fully expected them to just pop up in my mirrors in a huge final sprint and just blow right by me. Then I saw the sign. I let off a little and coasted by. Feeling good. I crossed the intersection and turned right at the next street on the way back to the shop. I turned left at the following intersection, looked back and there they were! Sure enough, they had been right on my tail the whole time, but just far enough back to be out of sight. If I had let up, they would have caught me. The plan worked. Not too shabby for a sneaky bastard.
