Tour De Grove Men’s 2/3
Course Description: ~2.5 mile, 8 corner circuit with a long straight away and a 120 degree final turn.
Weather: 50 degrees and raining.
The Race:
When we lined up for the Tour de Grove circuit, I had grand plans. I figured the turny course and wet conditions would lend themselves to a breakaway. I was going to bide my time until the inevitable mid-way prime, and use it to launch a sneak-attack on the field. They would think I was going for the $50 prize, but when the people actually after the prize money sat up, I would keep going. Diabolical, I know.
The first half of the race went more or less according to plan, which in a bike race means, I was still in the race when the officials rang the bell for the prime. I moved towards the front of the field, wanting to be in a position to “contest” the sprint.
When we rounded the corner into the finishing straight away, I found the closest wheel and worked to keep it across the line. I didn’t win any money, but I go screaming by the guy that did, and the guy next to him.
I was up the road on the long out-run after the finish. I put my head down and pushed as hard as I could, wanting to put as much distance between me and the main field as I could before the first turn.
Through the turn, I glanced back long enough to see, well, nothing. I had a gap. My plan had worked.
When you’re racing a technical course, a single rider (or a small group of riders) can gain an advantage on the main field, because a single rider doesn’t have to slow down as much to navigate the corners as a group of one hundred.
I kept this in mind, pushed myself as hard as possible without redlining—I did have to try to stay away for another 20 minutes—and took the corners as hot as I could.
The field caught me in just over a lap.
What went wrong?
For starters, I had put together my master plan when looking at the course on a map. What the map didn’t tell me was how long and wide-open the course was. If it had been a .8 mile, 8 corner crit, I would have had a huge advantage over the unwieldy peloton. Unfortunately, the course was three times that long, and while the field did slow down through the turns, it had a huge advantage in the long, windy stretches.
I recovered as best as I could, and tried to “sit in” for the eventual sprint.
Sitting in is a tricky proposition. In theory, you follow someone’s wheel and rest while somebody else take the brunt of the wind. In practice, the field ebbs and flows like a hurricane tide, and you need to wheel-hop constantly to keep yourself forward enough in the group to be in contention.
I managed a reasonable performance, but when on the run in to the last turn I was 20 wheels from the front—way too far back.
The field slowed to a near halt through the turn, so I had plenty of time to berate myself for loosing position. Out of the turn, I jumped as hard as I could, but the first few riders in the field had a huge head start. I gained a few spots, and rolled across the line in a very wet, very cold, and very tired 12th place.
