SENIOR GAMES STATE FINALS, 2019

     What an adventure!  The early forecast was for cold and wet.  As the week progressed, the rain chances diminished and as Sunday approached, dropped to nil.  However, the forecast of overcast, 48 degrees with a stiff north wind was spot on.  My packing included all my cold weather gear, plus rain gear (I pack early), and several kits.  Because the venue has one (only one) toilet, and no porta potties, I opted to start from home in my BSS skin suit, tights, jacket.  I left at 5:40 and arrived at 7:45, just in time to secure a parking place in a semi-protected spot next to my good friend, Dean.
     I set up both bikes then rode the quarter-mile to check in, get my bib/timing chip, and use the toilet.  No line.  Most folks aim their arrival for 8am so I just beat the line.  Just that little bit of riding left me shivering.  My start time for the first race, 5k time trial, was 9:14.  Time to warm up.
     I'm very familiar with the course, having come here for about fifteen years.  It is about two and a half miles around, with a really long back-side hill.  It isn't steep, just long.  The 5k is out-and-back, and goes half-way up the hill for the turn-around.  My warm up consisted of a full loop then the actual 5k route.  It took the full loop before I stopped shivering and was fairly comfortable pedaling.  The wind really cut into us.  I failed to mention I warm up on my road bike, then do a little shake-down on the tt bike before heading to the start line.
     The start is flat, then a slight incline.  Today it was into the wind.  Ugh!  Within 200 yards my right eye teared up.  Well, that doesn't help.  Anyway, I felt fast although when I peeked at the computer I needed a little more speed.  In the warm up I used the little ring the first time up the back-side and the big ring and lots of gears the second time, to be sure I could do it on the tt bike.  At the turn-around I could see that Bob, who started thirty seconds behind, had made up at least ten of those.  I blasted down the hill and felt good on the return, accelerating nicely through the finish line.  The finish line was not where it had been previously, and it turns out the 5k, or 3.1 miles, turned out to be 3.4 miles.  I doubt that made a difference in my placing, as I came in third.  This was not a surprise, in that I do better in the longer races plus Fred has just aged-up into my category and is faster along with being younger.  I have to put up with him for another three years.
     I went back to the car to stay warm while waiting for the 10k race, with a start time of 10:41.  Bob stayed around until the results were posted and came by to say he beat me.  He didn't say by how much, and I have yet to see the results.
     Everyone knows what happens when you ASSUME.  I left the warmth of the car about twenty-five minutes before my start and went to the toilet (notice I don't use the word bathroom) and immediately noticed that they had taken the Start banners down.  I inquired as to where the start was and the volunteer pointed up the road and said "that way."  For all my years coming here, the 10k was one loop, plus the 5k out-and-back.  I assumed that this year they moved the start to half-way around the course and just eliminated the out-and-back element.  So off I went in search of the start.  It wasn't there.  I did the whole loop searching and only upon coming back did I see racers coming toward me.  One of the racers was Bob, so I knew I'd missed my start time.
     Well, there has been a lot of building in the last few years, and there is a new road that hooks into the loop (actually there are several).  Now there was a person directing cyclists up this road and at the end was the start line.  I asked if I could get in (there was a delay between age groups so it was dead time anyhow) and he said, sure, you got sixty seconds.  Here we pause for an aside.
     Having lost to Bob in the 5k, I wanted to be as quick as possible for the 10k.  To that end, I put my rain jacket under the skin suit, plus arm warmers to cut down any wind resistance.  For my warm up, which this time was on the tt bike, I had my jacket on also, intending to take it off before starting.  I also had no hydration.  Thrown off my schedule, I didn't remove the jacket.  It may have impacted my time, but even with all the layers, I still didn't get overheated.
     It was an uphill start, so I stood for longer than usual, but settled in and felt good.  Once again my eye teared up, so vision was spotty.  As I powered my way around the course I realized I had no idea where I was going.  But about half way through I recognized racers coming from the other direction, so concluded that somewhere was a turn-around.  Well, it wasn't at the 5k spot, so I had to go up the whole incline.  Finally I saw the turn-around banner and relaxed a bit.  Once again I bombed down the back-side hill.  I must admit, I do well on this section.  And again, I powered through the finish line.  As I hit the Stop button I noticed my time seemed really good.  When I punched Summary I understood why.  The 10k (6.2 mile) course turned out to be 5.1 miles.
     It seems the organizers went with what was convenient for the chip timing company.  I understand it takes time to move the timing pads, but it doesn't take much to move the start line.  It wasn't like we had to go over the pad to start, just to finish. 
     We had over an hour before the 20k road race.  This would be five laps, or 12.6 miles which is close enough.  Bob started out strong and I was dropped on the back-side hill the first time up.  Last place.  I'd hoped to hang in awhile, but three races in the cold did me in.  Time to get back to training.

PACE BEND ULTRA, THREE HOUR SOLO

      The third annual Pace Bend Ultra was my first "race" of the season.  I really categorize this as a workout ride since there are no age groups, thus giving me zero chance to actually be competitive.  But a few folks were racing.  There are multiple categories, 24-hour, 12-hour, 6-hour solo and various teams, and the one I did, the 3-hour solo.  I did the inaugural race as a two-man team with Jim Hungerford in the 6-hour team (see the Feb 2017 post on that).  That day was cold and wet and a miserable ride.  Yesterday was much better, with warm (65-70 degrees) weather, dry road, but a fairly stout south wind.
     I opted for my time trial bike and helmet, Texas A&M kit, including shoe covers.  Now, at my speed I doubt the shoe covers help much, but they kept my shoe strap from flapping (shoes to be replaced in the next day or two), and gives the illusion of being a real time trialist.  Learning from the first Ultra, I again switched out cassettes, giving me a 32-tooth which came in quite handy.  But I had a serious lapse of planning when it came to hydration.  In the ten years I've had my Felt I've never had a water bottle cage on it, mainly because I've never done more than 40k.  For the long races I use a kid's Camelbak which holds 26 ounces.  So my plan was to make a quick pit stop and refill the Camelbak.  The A&M jersey is a pull-over and the Camelbak was under the jersey.  I was halfway through the race when it occurred to me that would take a lot of time.  So as I cruised round the course I decided to just thrust the replacement fluid water bottle into my jersey pocket.  More on that later.
     My goal for the three hours was to do eight laps.  Each lap is 6.21 miles.  Last Friday I did the Senior Games 10k Time Trial in an unofficial 18:20.  But that was all out for one lap and there wasn't any wind to speak of.  180 minutes divided by 8 equals 22.5.  My warm-up lap took 24:11 so I was fairly confident I could achieve eight laps.  Of course, that left very little for stopping, but the plan was not to stop.  You can see that I had forgotten about the hydration issue.
     Eleven of us started this race, six others were signed up but didn't show.  It didn't take long for the fast guys to move out, but I managed to pass three or four within the first couple of miles.  I took it out fairly strong and was happy to be in a tt-tuck going into the wind.  The big downhill was into the wind and I was hitting 34-36mph.  On Friday I did 39.  After a left turn onto Grisham Trail there is a strength-busting grade and experience has shown I should take it easy, so this was my recovery section.  As it turned out, my first lap was 18:56 so I was quite please that I'd put three and a half minutes in the bank.  I backed off a bit, but still was only thirty-seven seconds slower, so another three minutes in the bank.  I lost another thirty seconds, but now had about seven minutes for down time.
     Truthfully, I was happy as a clam with my riding.  After the fourth lap I started sitting up when the wind was behind me because my neck was really complaining.  After the fifth lap I stopped at the car and grabbed a Gu and shoved the water bottle in the back pocket.  Gave back a minute and a half.
     For laps seven and eight, rather than chance something happening while I fumbled with the water bottle, knowing I had time, I just stopped and drank up.  Between stops and just going slower, especially the last lap since I knew I'd made the time limit, I managed to lose a few spots to those who I passed at the beginning.  Really don't know how that happened, but the final results show me in 10th place.  The two leaders did ten laps, the next three did nine, five of us did eight, and one did seven.
     But for solace to my ego, I turned to Strava.  It appears that for all the segments, I am atop the leader board for my age group.  And just for grins, compare the times for the next two younger ages.
As I type this, my hips are killing me and my wrists are swollen.  When I turned off the Garmin yesterday it indicated I needed 65 hours of recovery.  I'll probably do an hour easy sometime today.
 

MY CHRISTMAS TREE

     This is not a bicycling post, unless you spin it that I'm working on decorating my tree rather than riding the bike.  But I want to explain my tree since it is more than just putting on ornaments.
     For instance, a large section of ornaments is dedicated to our travels.   We pick up one for each trip.  When we did the Christmas Rhine tour we came home with multiples.  Speaking of Germany, we also have a Bride's Tree Collection.  According to an old German tradition, the tree of a newlywed couple should include these twelve ornaments to insure blessing and happiness for their life together.  In addition, they are small and perfect for the top area.

      Each of our kids, spouses, grandchildren and great grand kids have an ornament with their name on it, as do Marilane and I.   They are arranged on the tree loosely like a family tree, and is now rivaling the travel section in terms of space.  Styles change over the fifty years we've been doing this, so, just like the kids themselves, the ornaments are different.







     For our first Christmas as a couple, we bought three dozen balls, twelve each red, blue, and green.  Over the years, spending too many summers in the attic (which we no longer do), the red and blue faded a bit but the green turned a sickly yellow.  But they still decorate the tree.  Lately I've taken to grouping them in threes on the bottom of the tree.  Also on that first Christmas together, our college friends Tommy and Karen fashioned an ornament out of string for us.  It has graced our tree each year.

     We went through a period where Marilane would purchase a Waterford ornament each year after Christmas when they went on sale.  Including the Waterford we picked up on our Ireland trip, we have twenty-two.  After the top section, these are placed first.  This year I've whimsically placed together those bells which actually tinkle.
     Also we have a Judy Peterson collection.  Judy taught with Marilane and was a good friend.  She did multiple trees, one of which was a Victorian tree.  Judy died of cancer and three of her ornaments were given to Marilane as a remembrance.  She also was a baseball fanatic and loved going to the Round Rock Express and trying to explain the game to Marilane.  She gave us a baseball ornament one year.





     I start decorating at the top.  Back when we were doing twelve foot or more trees I had to crowd into the branches with the ladder in order to reach it.  So the first ornament is the angel.  We have the tree topper plus two other capiz angels, a cross, and a star.  The angels are arranged in a spiral toward the top.  Of course, with only two that takes a leap of faith.  The cross also lands a prominent position mainly because with it's size, any place becomes prominent.  Of course, the number one ornament is Madonna and Child.  This is always at eye level so anyone approaching the tree will see it first.
     My sister sends me quilted balls each year.  Or, more precisely, she quilts the fabric then fits it to styrofoam balls.  That worked for the real trees, but when we went to artificial they were too heavy for the branches unless I hid them toward the trunk.  I'm working on a DIY fix, but until then, they are displayed by themselves. As of this writing there are thirteen.
     I have a spread sheet with all of the ornaments listed, description, and when we got them, either purchase or gift and from whom.  I'm showing 319 ornaments, including a few minuses when they broke.  Every gifted ornament is on the tree.  I especially like the hand-made ones our granddaughter made a few years back.  When the kids were little they had a Fisher-Price barn.  In 2008 Marilane came across an ornament, complete with the cow noise when you open the door.  A friend gave me a John Deere Tractor ornament the year we got a real one to mow the grass.
     Our tree is more than a decoration.  It is filled with memories that are renewed each year.
   
      

HEART RATE MONITOR SAGA

     I almost don't want to post this.  I blame it on old age, a lack of mental acuity.  Usually I blame oxygen debt for such lapses, but I can't in good conscience for this boner.  But first, a short history.  Early last year I employed a coach.  That entailed purchasing a power meter and logging my training on Training Peaks.  This was a successful venture in that my speed and endurance improved and I learned what I needed to do to keep that form.  Recently I parted ways with the coach, partly due to economics and partly because I planned to do less structured cycling for the next six months.  This meant I would be doing my own fitness monitoring.  Ugh!  I'll need mentoring on what all that data means.  Generally, I pay no attention to the power data and lots of attention to my heart rate.  Us old guys really can't afford to push it too hard for too long.  And so we begin my story.
     Last week I took my first three hour ride in a year.  Actually, three hours and ten minutes.  It was a good workout, uneventful, and I was properly sweaty at the end.  Normally, there are only three or four cars in the parking lot at Old Settlers Park Pavilion.  Today every space was filled with Spectrum trucks.  Apparently they were there for lunch and a meeting of some sort.  Anyhow, I was thrown a bit off my finish routine and tossed bike and gear into the car and came home.  The next day I couldn't find my HR strap.  But I was in a hurry to ride so left after a cursory search.  I even went back to the park to see if it were on the ground or if someone might have seen it and put it on the fence or table.  Nothing.
     When I got back home, I thoroughly searched the car and house, dirty clothes basket, anyplace I could have dropped it.  Nothing.  Another ride without the HR data..  More searching, this time in places it couldn't possibly have been.  Nothing.  I like having HR data.  So I hit up Amazon and had it delivered on Sunday, yesterday.
     Pairing the HR transmitter is easy.  I sat down at the table this morning and turned on the Garmin 520, settings>sensors> add sensor.  Piece of cake.  The Garmin was showing connected, so I put it on to make sure I was getting the heart rate.  Nothing.  I wet the sensors and still no reading.  I double checked that the computer was reading the HR monitor.  A glimmer of light went off in my head.  I went outside and walked a few houses down the street.  I had the HR on but now got zero connection.  Pook!  Ding-fu!!
     Back at the house, I went through the pairing sequence again.  This time I paired All Sensors.  A different one came up.  I clicked on it, then went back to the ride screen.  Sure enough, a big 74 showed up on the screen.  Sigh!  No problem, Amazon has a good return policy.  Oops!  When everything seemed to be in order, I'd walked out the trash can, on the street for pick-up, and tossed everything.  And the trash truck had just come by about five minutes prior.
     I backed the car out of the garage and turned on the garage lights.  Time to go over everything.  Not inside the shoes, not inside the car, not inside the Camelbak.  Ah!  Somehow, in my rush to leave the parking lot the other day, the HR strap came attached to the Camelbak, disguising itself as part of the pack itself.  Even though I'd picked it up out of the car and hung it up on a hook, it just appeared like one of the many straps the Camelbak has.  Now I have two HR transmitters and straps. If anyone needs a replacement, let me know.

SENIOR MOMENT!

     Today's bike ride takes a lot of background explanation, most of it superfluous to the minor situation at the end, but I'll draw it out as long as possible because it's been awhile since my last post.
     This morning's agenda had us going down to 34th street.  Marilane had a long appointment.  Plan A was for me to take the opportunity to ride Shoal Creek.  I returned from our jaunt to Prague, Budapest, and Evesham (England) with a sore left knee that would not recuperate.  I did some cadence at the Driveway Thursday and it was still tender.  So I wasn't all that enthused about putting it to the test.  This morning's deluge sorta sealed the deal, not riding.
     But once there, driving into the parking lot, I opined that maybe I would.  Then I realized I was wearing Levi's.  The bike was still in the car from cycling at the Driveway  but the prospect of riding in jeans just didn't appeal to me.  Then an Aha! moment.  I always have an emergency bag in the car.  Tires, tubes, helmet, tights, wind jacket, lots of stuff including shorts and jersey.  Ok, then, I'll ride. 
     I changed clothes and was ready.  Pook, ding-fu!  I used the emergency water bottle at the Driveway and hadn't replaced it.  No problem, I have 8 ounce Ozarka's in my cup holders and can put one in the jersey pocket. 
     Turned off of West on to 34th and immediately came upon two police cars, lights on, and a person up against a wall.  Oops!  I went around behind Randall's and found that the parking lot didn't have an access to the street, so had to continue back up 35th to get out and come back to Shoal Creek.  It's not like it was a long way, just an aggravation.  No problem getting across to the turn lane and the light was green.
     I cruised on up and did 3 loops of Great Northern.  BTW, none of this is on Strava because when I decided I wasn't riding, I left the computer home.  The weather was great,with a nice cool breeze.  I'd stop on White Rock and watch Shoal Creek flow by as I rationed out the water.  Since I wasn't riding hard, my minimal fluid intake wasn't a hindrance.
      I can't blame it on oxygen debt so it must be old age.  I knew it rained this morning, I just watched Shoal Creek.  But as I approached 38th street I had this brilliant idea to bypass the light and take the hike and bike path underneath and just toodle on down to 34th street and give Randall's parking lot a salute as I went.  Karma!  It was bright out and I had on my Oakleys.  As soon as I made the turns and hit the underpass the realization hit me.  Hard.  It wasn't just wet, it was mud.  And it wasn't just some mud, it was CX worthy.  Too late to stop, I just held the handlebars straight and kept a steady pace as the mud flew up the back of my jersey.  I glimpsed one patch at least 4 inches deep.  We're only talking ten seconds or so before I squished out the other side.  Only to be met by a cyclist who asked me if I were going to "try" it. He was really hoping I would. I had forgotten the sharp turn and low water crossing.  Except it was more like raging than meandering.  Nope.  Turn around, don't drown. 
     I followed him up 38th and down Medical Pkwy to return to my starting point. Speaking of points, the whole point of this post is preparedness.  If you don't keep spare bike stuff in your car, you should start.  These are servicable items, but ones I'd happily part with to someone who needed them.  As a matter of fact, the shorts I wore went into the trash when I got home rather than the washing machine.  They're at least fifteen years old and it was time to go.  I have another that will take its place.  The other part of preparedness is awareness.  Keep you head in the game.  My failure will result in a premature washing of my bike.  As Professor Moody would say: CONSTANT VIGILANCE!! 

CYCLING THE GAPS IN NORTH GEORGIA

     Every year we come to Suches, Georgia and I ride the gaps.  This was a  bonus year, in that rather than drive home after racing in Augusta, we just booked an extra week at High Valley Resort.  Every year I start off my mountain riding by doing Woody Gap, Neel's Gap and Wolf Pen Gap on the first day and the same three in the opposite direction on the second day.  This year was different, in that I only had room for my racing bike and time trial bike.  I left the bike with the triple chain ring at home.  I was anxious to see if I could actually get up the mountains with only a double.  True, it had a compact crank, so I was only down two or three gears.
     As it turned out, I did have to use all of the gears and my cadence was slower, but overall time was exactly the same as the previous ten years.  I felt relief that I could get some good cycling in.  Another bonus, new asphalt for the five mile descent of Woody Gap.  Of course, the real test is doing Brasston Bald.  I test myself by climbing Hog Pen Gap.  If I can get up that, I try for Brasstown.
     With two days rest, Marilane drove me out to the top of Jack's Gap to begin my ride.  This consists of a descent of Jack's, up and down Unicoi Gap, transition over to Hog Pen, up Hog Pen, down, over to Wolf Pen and back to the cabins.
     I'm not a fan of Jack's Gap.  The descent going east is five miles long, but only the first mile and a half or so is fun, the rest is a meandering downhill.  As I started off, a line of motorcycles came by.  They were doing the speed limit or a little less and I fell in line behind the last one for a quarter mile or so.  I don't think he liked that and sped up a bit.  Shortly after the grade lessened and my speed slowed.  Soon enough the road ended and I turned to ascend Unicoi.
     Unicoi is the least steep of the six gaps and has the best descent of them all.  But today I struggled up Unicoi with the unpleasant realization of using all the gears.  Hog Pen was going to eat my lunch.  But first, the really great downhill.  It is nine miles in total, but the first four or so are steep, with sweeping curves you take at speed.  There was no traffic behind me for this part, maybe because I was doing the speed limit.  The rest of the way was also pleasant and I arrived at the turn exactly as planned.
     The transistion is lumpy, but once again I was dismayed in having to use all the gears.  Then came the turn onto the Russell Scenic Byway.  After climbing for a mile, 4 or 5% grade, you see written on the road "Start 10k KOM."  Dang!  The average gradient of Hog Pen is 7% with at least one ramp at 15% (my computer said 16).  I was in my last gear much more than usual, and working much harder.  I rounded a curve and saw the incline.  Nope.  Off the bike, let the heart rate subside, then start walking.  Once the HR dropped twenty beats I remounted and continued the slow slog up to the overlook and stopped for a Clif Bar and water.  But I still had three-plus miles to the top.  Two more steep ramps had me walking.  Eventually I got to the top and a short rest, during which time I texted Marilane to meet me at a grocery store before Wolf Pen Gap.  I was gassed.
     The climb up Hog Pen is devoid of scenic views.  But at the top, there is one spectacular one.  Also new this year is smooth asphalt on a really fast, non-technical descent.  With smooth asphalt and a new racing bike, I wondered how fast I would go.  I chickened out at 47.2 mph and braked slightly.  Again, no traffic.  The rest of the descent was rolling, but enjoyable.  Once at the bottom, it was turn left, do a short climb and a long downhill, another left for a mile or so, and the grocery store where I waited a short time for Marilane.
     After a day of recollection, I have replaced my despondency of failure to ascend with something a little more positive.  I'm thinking it wasn't, necessarily, the gradients, but that I was just having a bad day.  I base this on the Unicoi climb.  In the past I'd have two or three gears left on this climb, and have always been able to accelerate the last quarter mile up.  Plus, the other two days were not strenuous.  So, I'll do some more climbing on Woody and Wolf Pen, then take on Hog Pen again.  Stay tuned.

2018 USA CYCLING MASTERS CHAMPIONSHIPS

First, some background.  Last year at the Senior Games Nationals in Birmingham, I came in second to Durward Higgins in the 10k time trial.  In later conversations, I found he had competed in the USAC Nationals in Augusta the week before.  Once I returned home, I looked up the results of those races.  Well, he was far and away faster than the rest of the field, but second place times were in my ball park, so to speak.  I also discovered that USAC had five-year age groups, something I didn’t think they did.  I had already determined I needed a coach to get better, so the goal was to get fast enough to be competitive for second place at this year’s nationals.

            Second, the lead-up.  I signed up early, then kept an eye out for who else was in my age group.  My first clue that things might not go as planned was that none (NONE) of the guys who raced last year signed up for this year, except Durward.  One new name popped up, Phil Needham.  I knew the name, but had never met him.  Well, I knew the name because he is a five-year national Senior Games Champion.  Ok, now I’m racing for third. My friend Carolyn, who was National Champion last year, described the course as lumpy.  Gee, did those guys who aren’t repeating doing so because the course is too hilly?  Hmmm!

            The pre-race instructions indicated the course would be open for pre-riding after 5pm on Wednesday (race was Thursday).  We arrived Wednesday afternoon, checked in and picked up my number, then checked into the hotel.  Around 6pm I drove over to Fort Gordon and prepared to preview the course.   Apparently the para-racers ran late, because it was after 7pm before it was open.  I had given up by then.  My friend Clif told me it was quite hilly, with one really long, steep one.  Great. 

            The first race was the time trial, 20k in length.  I warmed up using the available road, which happened to be the finish of Friday’s road race, so at least I got to preview that. Generally speaking, I do better in the longer time trials.  Both Durward and Phil started behind me.  I started strong but controlled.  The hills were challenging but I felt confident as I shifted up and down the cogs.  I passed my one minute man and had a second one in my sights.  We made the right turn on to McDuffie Road and into a head wind plus a wash-board road.  Perhaps wash-board is too strong a description, but it certainly wasn’t smooth.  I passed number three and number four.  Soon enough, I got to the turn-around and with the wind behind me, was able to increase speed and not bounce quite so much.  I made the left turn and now had the wind from the left.  About this time Durward blew past me.  I knew it would happen, so wasn’t discouraged.  The downer came in the form of two really steep, long hills.  I was in the 44-26 and struggling, both in strength and heart-rate.  My max HR is 164 and for most of this race I was above 156.  These hills got me up to 162.  The Garmin showed 6.9 mph just before the crest.  I managed to ramp up some rpm’s at the end and was rewarded with hearing the announcer say I was in third place.  As it turned out, I came in fourth, which was still a spot on the five-person podium.  I wasn’t close to Durward, but then, no one else was either.

            Friday was the 28 mile road race, two laps.  Our race started at 8:05 and I was warmed up and ready, although the legs weren’t up to the task.  This race was 70+ ages, so although we would be scored according to our 5-year grouping, we’d all race together.  That meant all I had to do was hang on to the back of the young guys.  We started off flat, made a right turn and came to a downhill followed by a really long, steep uphill.  I’d worked my way up to the first third of the group and was happy with my positioning.  Then my bike began to shake.  Various thoughts flashed through my mind: did I not tighten the front axel?, Did I have a flat?  This was an unknown experience.  Dang!  I slowed and raised my hand and came to a stop.  Nope, no flat, tires were good.  Neutral support guy came up and gave a quick check and we both agreed nothing was wrong with the bike.  Up I got and started pedaling.  No way could I catch on to the peloton.  I didn’t expend myself up the hill, but ramped it up after.  As it was, I passed four riders, who had been dropped.  This was another really hilly course and since I had no chance of podium, I considered the next course of action.

            We will now call this a strategic DNF.  My legs still felt the effects of the time trial and I’d be doing the second lap again by myself.  So, I pulled the plug, ran my hand across my throat at the finish line, and called it a day.  I had some regrets but will address those later.

            We had most of Friday and all day Saturday to rest and do a bit of touring in Augusta.  Sunday noon would be the criterium.  About ten years ago I entered two crits and was unceremoniously pulled in less than ten minutes.  To be fair, I was with younger, faster guys, but it still bruised the ego.  I hadn’t considered crits since.  Until now.

            Once again, it would be 70+ so all I needed to do was latch onto a wheel and hang on.  With crits they do call-ups, so me being a nobody, I was in the last group at the start line.  I quickly found out that as inexperienced as I was in this genre, there were guys who were less so.  You don’t brake in the corners, you hold your line.  I did well the first lap (.8 of a mile), and actually moved into a good position about a third back on the second lap.  The peloton slowed on the left-right-left corners for some reason.  Anyhow, I hung with the guys until they got serious on the seventh lap and put the hammer down on one of the corners.  Five yards, ten yards, and then they didn’t slow down at the corner and I waved goodbye.

            My coach, Owen, was at the start/finish line calling out encouragement and letting me know how I was doing.  Once I lost the peloton I could carve through the corners keeping my cadence and actually put time into those behind me.  With seven laps to go Owen advised I was in third place and something like thirty-three seconds up on forth.  I continued on and for one lap lost ten seconds.  I got lapped by the peloton, but that was a good thing.  For one, I latched on to the back for about three hundred yards so that upped my speed.  For another, that meant I had one lap less to race since the race ended on the lap of the peloton.  However, number four apparently also latched on to them for a while, because Owen advised I only had a six second lead with two laps to go.  I wasn’t worried, much.  No,  really.  Whoever was behind had to expend a lot of energy catching up while I was holding a little something in reserve.  My lap times and speed were very consistent.  If you go to my Strava page, the analysis shows just when I got dropped and how much less power I had to use.  Of course, that was why I got dropped in the first place.

            Enter Fred.  Fred Schmidt is 86 and can still beat me in a road race.  He caught up to me and I pulled him for half a lap, then he pulled me.  As we approached the finish he accelerated.  I considered just following him in but then figured this was a learning opportunity to see how much I could do at the end of a race.  I upped the cadence to 132 and pipped him at the line.  Mixed emotions on that, feeling bad about beating him, but glad that I could.  It didn’t matter about placement, in that he was first in his age group, and I held on to third.