Last week, the doc shot my ankle up with cortisone. (Does this mean I’m juicing?) Then he said, “go forth and see if it worked.” Here’s test #1…
On my ride in to work on Saturday, I remembered about a criterium race going on that afternoon. I commute on my cyclocross bike—not the best for a crit. Thank God for cell phones: “hey Jill, can you meet me at UA with my race bike? No reason…why do you ask?” I ride from work to UA, meet her, quick change onto the road bike and line up.
My previous training, due to the leg and ankle issues, was this: a good off-season/transition period from May 4, 2007 until March 09, then 250 miles the week o
f my training camp, then 4 weeks of “recovery.” Not exactly text-book. I hadn’t done a crit since college, but it’s just like, well, riding a…never mind. There was screaming, torturous pain, bleeding through the eyes, and wishes for this thing to be over. That was the warm up…then the race started. Normally I’m pretty good about knowing where I am in a race, but it took everyone after the race telling me before I realized I finished in the lead pack. Not bad for my 5th ride in a month, and the 3rd in 2 days.
I always talk about taking the small victories away from any event, so here we go. 1) the rubber side stayed down; 2) I was able to stay in the lead pack; 3) I learned you don’t go off the front when the pack slows up. Take that time to rest. Those of you who’ve done crits are either shaking your head or laughing at that. I’ll sum up the crit this way: Crits are the Devil.
Sunday was the road race. It’s only 36 miles with one little climb, so says the course map. On lap 1 I realize that climb is something Sir Edmund Hilary had trouble on. People were walking their bikes. No kidding. Really. I didn’t bring my climbing legs, mainly because I don’t have any anymore. Lap 1 I’m with the main pack. I’m in the “red zone” but no problem. Lap 2 I’m struggling a bit on the climb but catch back up on the descent. Red zone still. Lap 3 is like lap 2 but I’m a bit further back. I move from red zone to purple. I didn’t know there was a purple zone. Lap 4 I never see the pack again. Where’s the chase pack when you need them? No I’m into the plaid zone (no Oxygen…remember Chuck Yeager’s F-104 flight in The Right Stuff???) Lap 5 I begin to curse the climb and my legs, what’s left of them. I go numb on the climb. Lap 6 I scream “Dear Lord take me now!” in agony all the way up. Ambulances follow me to make sure I make it. I see Elvis.
Victories: 1) The chase pack never catches me and I finish around 8th or 9th. This would put me in the top 10 for overall GC between Saturday and Sunday. 2) Thanks to Q-Rings for giving me the “power” to get up the hills. With my fitness level, I should have joined those climbing on foot. 3) Hammer Nutrition got me through with no issues again. 4) ZOOT compression gear was my friend this afternoon, and the only way I’ll be able to recover quickly.
The ankle? So far, so good. When’s the next race???
On my ride in to work on Saturday, I remembered about a criterium race going on that afternoon. I commute on my cyclocross bike—not the best for a crit. Thank God for cell phones: “hey Jill, can you meet me at UA with my race bike? No reason…why do you ask?” I ride from work to UA, meet her, quick change onto the road bike and line up.
My previous training, due to the leg and ankle issues, was this: a good off-season/transition period from May 4, 2007 until March 09, then 250 miles the week o
f my training camp, then 4 weeks of “recovery.” Not exactly text-book. I hadn’t done a crit since college, but it’s just like, well, riding a…never mind. There was screaming, torturous pain, bleeding through the eyes, and wishes for this thing to be over. That was the warm up…then the race started. Normally I’m pretty good about knowing where I am in a race, but it took everyone after the race telling me before I realized I finished in the lead pack. Not bad for my 5th ride in a month, and the 3rd in 2 days.I always talk about taking the small victories away from any event, so here we go. 1) the rubber side stayed down; 2) I was able to stay in the lead pack; 3) I learned you don’t go off the front when the pack slows up. Take that time to rest. Those of you who’ve done crits are either shaking your head or laughing at that. I’ll sum up the crit this way: Crits are the Devil.
Sunday was the road race. It’s only 36 miles with one little climb, so says the course map. On lap 1 I realize that climb is something Sir Edmund Hilary had trouble on. People were walking their bikes. No kidding. Really. I didn’t bring my climbing legs, mainly because I don’t have any anymore. Lap 1 I’m with the main pack. I’m in the “red zone” but no problem. Lap 2 I’m struggling a bit on the climb but catch back up on the descent. Red zone still. Lap 3 is like lap 2 but I’m a bit further back. I move from red zone to purple. I didn’t know there was a purple zone. Lap 4 I never see the pack again. Where’s the chase pack when you need them? No I’m into the plaid zone (no Oxygen…remember Chuck Yeager’s F-104 flight in The Right Stuff???) Lap 5 I begin to curse the climb and my legs, what’s left of them. I go numb on the climb. Lap 6 I scream “Dear Lord take me now!” in agony all the way up. Ambulances follow me to make sure I make it. I see Elvis.
Victories: 1) The chase pack never catches me and I finish around 8th or 9th. This would put me in the top 10 for overall GC between Saturday and Sunday. 2) Thanks to Q-Rings for giving me the “power” to get up the hills. With my fitness level, I should have joined those climbing on foot. 3) Hammer Nutrition got me through with no issues again. 4) ZOOT compression gear was my friend this afternoon, and the only way I’ll be able to recover quickly.
The ankle? So far, so good. When’s the next race???
1 comment:
Great report Brian. You have a great way with words and make me laugh. Congrats on the top 110 GC!
Linc
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