Steep thought

I used to fancy myself as a strong climber, passing my competition on the uphills only to be passed on the downhills again.  It wasn't until I started road racing that I realized  I'm a mediocre climber at best. (And with that reflection, I realized my slow swim likely meant I was way behind the fast triathletes and was actually just passing the slower cyclists that beat me out the water).

Yet going into Tour de Bowness, I thought my best finish would be in the road race.  Going into the hilly 88km race, my game plan was to hold on to the lead pack on both climbs up the biggest hill.  Lap 1, mission complete.  The climb up to the finish on the first lap saw a few guys pass me, but I was still where I wanted to be, firmly mid-pack.  I raced the "out" of lap two well, getting myself in good position just before the turnaround.  But when the lead pack hit the big climb the second time around, my legs couldn't execute.  About halfway up, I started going backwards through the lead pack of about 25-30 fellow Cat fivers. As soon as you lose touch with a group that size, regaining contact is near impossible. As soon as I crested the hill, I dropped into the drops ('cause how else would you get in to the drops?) and focused on catching another wheel. I closed the gap on a few stragglers and we ended up with a group of 6. A couple of us did the brunt of the work to minimize the time loss.  And once we got to the final 4km uphill to the line, my execution was that strategic thing of beauty I've been struggling to find over the last 2 years.  Okay, "18th place" and "beauty" maybe don't go hand-in-hand. But I was happy with the way I rode the last 15km. So there.

C.O.P. hill climb? You can imagine how well that went. 4mins and 54 seconds of wishing this thing was over.  I may have left half a second on the course, but not much more than that. I was spent. At least the cat 5s all got their ride in. The faster guys and girls were rained (lightninged?) out half way through the Cat 4 run. 30th place.

Thus far in life, I had competed in 2 criteriums.  In both I was right up there for the sprint.  Of the second group. After about 20 or 30 other guys had already crossed the finish line.  And so, expectations were low as we lined up for a 20 lap, 27 minute race around the streets of Bowness. But by lap 10, I realized I had a chance of doing alright.  The legs felt strong, the lungs were doing a good job of managing the whole oxygen in-carbon dioxide out thing, and this time I didn't mishear Brent "The Crit Monster" Topilko's advice and managed to execute. I moved up to the top ten on the small climb, positioned myself on the Bownesian pavé and came out of the final turn still in top 10.  I was a bit too far left when the road narrowed, meaning my straight path to the finish was cut off by a racer in front of me. But a quick flick to the right allowed me to accelerate and come around 2 guys at the line to secure 6th place. First upgrade points from a crit.  And yet as I rode my cool down, I was disappointed in missed opportunities. Which is a good thing; satisfaction with 6th won't make me better.

So yeah, I'm not much of a climber.

Slow & steady does NOT win the race

So apparently this has become an annual blog.  You're welcome.

I had a double-header weekend. Saturday was the Bicisport Suffer Like a Dog Time Trial in Dog Pound (where else?). The 16.3km course is a hilly one.  Going into the race having spent minimal time training on the Flying Scotsman and still trying to drop vacation weight (I can assure you it's a half-assed attempt) my sole goal was to beat last year's time on the same course.  Coming in a minute faster than last year didn't translate into a great performance, but it was decent enough.  Getting my first upgrade point of the season was even better. No, that's not a typo. Point is singular.

Heading into today's 83km Stampede Road Race back at the same location, the legs were burning but I was feeling ready to go. After a conversation with JVD yesterday about trying to make something happen in races rather than just sitting in and not really contributing, I had my most combative race of the season.  A small break went on the uphill at the start of lap two but I didn't jump as I thought it would be brought back after going that early. Big mistake.  So with a chasing group of about 10 or 12 guys, we started to pull back a few of the breakaway that fell off the pace.  Unfortunately most of our chase group was content to sit in without doing any work. I've never pulled so much in a race.  A few others started to contribute after my Bici teammate Noah told the group to start working, but it wasn't until one lap to go with the second group down to 9 guys that we started to see more rotation (I think this was as much a result of guys realizing we weren't catching the break and a focus on the sprint for minor placings). As we hit the uphill towards the finish line, I had to fight myself out of a box in and found some open road.  Coming around 3 guys, I managed to get second in our mini-sprint. Having no idea how many had remained in the breakaway, I was happy to see I'd taken 8th.  Another single upgrade point. So it looks like the legs are starting to come back after Europe.  And that JVD guy kinda knows what he's talking about. 

24 Hours of Adrenalin

Nine years ago, as I rode back along the 1A from Cochrane to Calgary on an 8-year old second-hand GT Aggressor, I debated with Annabelle if I should by a new mountain bike or go with a hyrbrid. Someone along the way...or maybe it was a few weeks later...I decided to buy a road bike instead. Since I bought Cabra, skinny tires were my sole (soul) ride. But last weekend I got lured back on to some fatties. Mick lent me his Specialized Epic full-suspension and I email transferred $300 to Chad. After a 9 year hiatus, I had a one-night stand with mountain biking.

24 Hours of Adrenalin was a hella good time. Not surprisingly, my technical skills on single-track are useless. But fitness from the road translates over to the dirt. The 17.5km course at Canmore Nordic Centre was a tough one - lots of climbing and some technical descents. I held my own on the way up, but got left in the dust (literally) on my way back down. Riding on a 5-man team, I got in 3 laps including one night lap. Riding 17.5km in 1h 30 minutes is not what I'm used to, but as I told Chad after finishing my night lap:
1. I suck at this sport
2. This sport is so much fun.

Fortunately no one on our team ended up with a serious injury nor a trip to the hospital (I can't say the same for our campmates and biggest "rivals"). Our bikes didn't fare quite so well.

So will it be another 9 years before I ride bike built for the mountains?  Highly unlikely.

Just the Bike

I got my butt kicked this weekend. Like, really kicked. Hard. 

It also feels like I got my quadriceps kicked. Really, really hard.

It was awesome. 

As you may know, I've put triathlon aside this year to focus on bike racing. (My sole foray into tri this year will be Challenge Penticton as a relay team with Kilah & Rick. In other words, I  just have to run a marathon). My decision was partially based on just wanting a physical and mental break (although some may argue bike racing and training for a marathon doesn't warrant much of a physical break), with my coach moving to hot & humid Houston certainly making the decision easier. 

The first night I rode with my new club Bicisport - a one-hour session in April - I realized triathlon does not prepare you for bike racing. Pace-lining. Punchy accelerations. Seeing that gap extend to a couple of bike lengths when you're already red-lining and then watching those riders in front of you get smaller and smaller, And smaller. 

Fast forward 3 months and I finally got a taste of the action. Saturday was the Bicisport-organized Individual Time Trial in Dog Pound, AB. The hilly 16km TT was something I'm more used to. Except I had only been on the Flying Scotsman twice this season. I left something on the course because my legs didn't scream as much as they should have. Middle of the pack, caught my minute man, and didn't get passsed. Not a bad day. But at only 35km/h, it wasn't my best day either. The event itself was organized very well. You should do it next year (shameless plug).  

Next morning we headed out to race essentially the same course...but this time 5.5 laps for 114km. As I was looking down at my pedal trying to clip in with my newly shimmed cycling shoes, the race started. I never contacted the main group. Being Masters provincials, we were in with the elite guys. And it looks like the Lead Out Project team held true to their name, getting their Master's guy the win by setting a crazy fast pace from the word go. Rick held back a bit for me and we started to work our way up, grabbing on to our old TCTC teammate Jason and then eventually contacting another three racers to form a good group of 6. We worked well for a couple of laps and then Rick and I popped (well I popped, Rick had some minor mechanical). With each passing lap and each passing hill, I finally had the screaming in my legs I was looking at yesterday. I told them to shut up. I finished 39 minutes off first place, but was happy to hold on for the finish and managed not to get lapped. This will be my last race on Cabra (my Opus), so I certainly couldn't send her into retirement from competition with a DNF. 

Next up on the road will be the J-Lap weekend, with a little side exploration into mountain biking with 24 Hours of Adrenalin. Goal: don't get injured and mess up my marathon training. Sounds simple enough. I'll let keep you posted. 

Cheers,

D.

I thought this was gonna be "just" a marathon

11 years ago I ran my first marathon. I was in my mid-20s.  The race was mostly downhill and flat. At sea level. I ran over 4h30. I'm pretty sure both my knees almost fell off. I said I'd never do another (standalone) marathon again.

I love Penticton. I especially love Penticton at the end of August. Dezz and I had traveled to Penticton 7 years in a row during Ironman Canada - twice to race and the other times to enjoy the vibe and the wine. So when I heard that Challenge Penticton was offering the opportunity for a full iron-distance relay in 2014, I instantly texted Rick. He was the obvious choice for team cyclist, so I quickly planned to take on the run. All we needed was a swimmer. And if we were gonna do it, we may as well do it right. Cue Kilah. Looks like I was wrong about that standalone marathon.

Jump ahead 10 months and we were on our way to Penticton once again. Coach Grant had me on a program ready to run a 3:10 marathon (post-Brazil, we decided a 3hr race was a big ask). Confident Kilah could swim a sub-1 hour swim, Rick and I were ready to lay it down for a podium spot. Despite being a couple hundred metres long, Kilah was handing off to Rick in 57 mins; second fastest female out the water. A small transition error and some unnecessary duct tape later (really, officials?), Rick was out on the road. And I was heading back to the house for some breakfast and some rest. With regular updates from Dezz and Twyla, I was back in transition an hour early, finding some shade before warming up. Rick was back into transition a bit slower than he'd hoped, but he had a solid ride sending me onto the run as the 2nd overall team (1st mixed team).

If you've read any of my race reports before, you'll know one of my biggest enemies on race day is my stomach. I've spent the last 13 months trying to find an answer and hoped my strict diet the past week would be enough. And it was...for 10km.

The race plan was to let myself start fast for the first 1km, then settle into a 4:25 on the first half of the run and try hang onto a 4:30ish on the way back for a sub 3:10. The plan was on point until 8km in, when I first started to get a bit of stomach cramping. (BTW, I loved being that close to the front of the race, with eventual winner Jeff Symonds only being about 6km ahead of me at one point thanks to Kilah and Rick. I pushed on but by the time I saw Dezz and Twyla at the halfway point I'd fallen well off my pace. And then the fun began.Walking a hill, I saw Sheila, my Talisman teammate and, on this day, my biggest rival as the runner for another TC team, running the opposite way while yelling Hey no walking! Start running cuz I'm coming after you". Following that little push, I walked a few aid stations but tried to keep the legs moving in a run/shuffle. Nausea started to set in but I just focused on holding that podium position. Apparently on the last 2km Jordan Bryden, one of the biggest triathletes I know and a very hard dude to miss, passed me to move into 1st place for the mixed relay. I have no recollection of that pass. I kinda remember the finishing shoot, thinking I can't hold onto Rick and Kilah's pace as we crossed the line together. I heard Steve Kings voice. And then I sat down.

About half an hour later, after a visit to the med tent and throwing up all the liquid I'd just taken in (6 times for those who are counting...one less than coach Elmar), I started to feel a bit better. Emphasis on BIT.

Running a 3:50 instead of a 3:10 was a disappointment. Especially when we lost first place by only a minute. But knowing I honestly left it all out there for the team helps a bit. Big congrats to Darren, Felix and Sheila for making us run scared and keeping it close with a 4th place finish (Yes I got chicked by Sheila...big time).

As for Challenge Penticton itself, it left a lot to be desired. I was a bit put off by the disorganization from day one all the way through the race weekend. But with new race directors and a (hopefully) new business model for next year's race, I definitely hope to see this race become a premier event again. Just like in the IMC days. After all, the venue still rocks.

Now just please don't tell my body I'm supposed to be slowing down and my knees are supposed to be getting worse as I age.