Sea Otter Onslaught (part two)... The Gravel Strikes Back

Getting to the front of the line.  Not only have I been coached to do this, if you read below I have other plans as well...

(Continued from Part One) It took forever to go to sleep. I was excited by the results from the race and I was amped. I was so into the racing mindset that even though I was in bed my body was reacting as if I was still riding in the race. (Kind of like when you are on a ship on the ocean for a long time and can’t seem to get your land legs back.)  I was excited about how well I performed at the race, excited about taking on the corkscrew tomorrow. (As a child I had seen many motorcycle races on that same course and I couldn’t get over being able to ride that same course first thing in the morning.) I knew my body needed rest but my mind just would not turn off. It was late in the night before I finally drifted off.

The next morning I felt like crap. Shin splints from all of the walking, my legs were sore, my calves were cramping. Basically from the knee down I felt like a mess. We were checking out of the hotel room before the race so between packing, boy wrangling and taking care of making meals it was a whirlwind morning.  As the sun was staring to rise, we were headed out to the track.



Destroying my cleats



I was already in my gear (including cycling shoes) and I had to walk with my father and the boys through the two miles of dirt, rocks, gravel, sand and coarse pavement from where we parked to the race course. In hindsight I probably should have worn my tennis shoes and swapped out for my cycling shoes once I got to the race.

As soon as we get to the course I start warming up on the racetrack. Trouble showed up early on as the initial climb at the start of the course seemed to eat me alive from the get-go. Not a great sign. On the bright side, after the climb I went down the corkscrew and the thrill of that more than made up for the work to get to the top.  (Watch video of the climb and corkscrew here.)



Slow first step, but I got to the front quickly.



As race time approached I was still feeling very lethargic and I knew I was going to get off to a slow start.  To counter that, I wanted to line up at the very front and do the initial lead up to the top of the corkscrew.  I figured that if I take the early lead I can set the pace most of the way up, and therefore do it at a pace I could handle, and when they start passing me I won’t move too far back into the group.  (I call it the “Lemming Strategy”.) That strategy worked well as I worked my way to the front and everyone folded in behind me.  It surprised me everyone stayed back as long as they did.  I thought I might just make it to the top at this rate.  No such luck there, I had already milked the peloton as much as could be expected and they started to pass me about half way up.  As I started to get passed I just stayed in my seat and let them go, knowing that I would catch them in the corkscrew.





The second lap is where the trouble really started…  I wanted to start keeping up with the leaders on the climb so I got out of the saddle to start pedaling.  As I did, my left foot came out of the pedal.  As I tried to get my shoe clipped back in I realized that I wasn’t getting a solid clip.  This is when I realized that walking in my cleats from the parking lot had been a really bad idea. I am certain that I clogged up my cleat with dirt and bits of gravel. 

At this point I have some safety concerns.  I don’t feel like it would be good for me to ride up the hills with the pack or be going for a sprint finish.  I decided to alter my strategy a little so that on the climbs, I am way off to the right or left of the pack.  If I am still with the group going into the finish I wouldn’t sprint for it because I don’t want to take out half the peloton.  

Without being able to stand to match the pace of the group up the climb, I was forced into a catch-up mode while riding the rest of the course.  On one climb I fell far enough back that the motorcycle and pace car that was following the peloton passed me.  That didn’t last for long as I put my cornering skills (from Body Concepts Race Team skills clinic) to use on the next descent down the corkscrew. I was back towards the front of the group in no time.  

As I was approaching the hill again I realized that my left shoe finally had a solid clip.  I am back in the race!  I sprung out of my saddle and kept up with the pack on this climb.  Next time around, trouble sprung up again as I dropped my chain! (Note to self: Need to get that chain catcher before my next race.)  I was able to recover without stopping but I was in catch-up mode again.  

I am starting to get tired from burning matches on the catch-up efforts.  I am back with the group with one lap to go.  The pace on the last lap surged up the hill.  I tried to match it but I was totally spent and couldn’t keep up with the pace.  As I made the descent down the corkscrew I realized that there were a bunch of stragglers behind and in front of me.  The main pack was too far off to catch so this became a race between me and whoever was left.  

Maximizing momentum down the corkscrew I came into the sharp left turn after the corkscrew a little too hot and found myself on the warning track.  Thunk-Thunk-Thunk-Thunk-Thunk.  I pulled out of it easily enough and was grinning because it was a very fun experience to be pushing it that close to the edge in my speed.  (I think my wife’s need for speed may be rubbing off on me.) In hindsight I think I also didn’t take the best angle through that turn like I did most of the rest of the race.  I think I was getting anxious for the finish and wasn’t paying as close attention to the details of making a good turn.  

I used my momentum to pass a few people and got behind another guy to get a draft break as we headed towards the finish.  The stragglers were getting restless and started powering towards the line so I did the same.  I passed several people but one guy came by me just before the finish.  I heard him coming but was already maxed out and couldn’t do anything about it.

We crossed the finish and I made a direct line for the large dirt area off to the side of the track where other riders had stopped to talk after the race. I was greeted by Jason “Coach” McMillen who had just participated in a race himself (different category from mine).  We exchanged race stories but I couldn’t stay long as my father and the boys were waiting for me.  I waited long enough for them to post my race results and then hurried back to join my family, I had promised the boys a side-trip to the beach on our way home and I wanted to make sure to get that in before it got too late in the day.  I said good-bye to my dad and planned the route to the beach in my head.

Well, the best laid plans… can easily be waylaid once the DS gaming units open. When we got on the road, around 11:00 or so, the boys were already engrossed in their videos games. I asked them if they still wanted to go to the beach or if they wanted to head directly home. If I had an ounce more energy I may have talked them into reconsidering, I couldn’t imagine myself as a kid saying no to a trip to the beach, but at that point I just didn’t feel like I could take on the video games and win so I pointed our car for home feeling a bit defeated by the boys reaction to our “Men’s Trip” to Sea Otter.

Sea Otter is such a big event with so much that I wanted to see and do but between my own time constraints and the boys reluctance to go anywhere or do anything there I only got to experience a small part of it. I feel like I missed out on a lot of what Sea Otter had to offer. Next time I will be sure to do Sea Otter right, both as a “tourist” and as a racer and I want to share it with those who will be as excited about it as I am.

So more lessons learned: I got 8^th in a tough race and I feel great about that; I got 16^th in a race that was full of snags and mistakes; I now know better than to try to sell my idea of a fun weekend trip to someone who just isn’t interested; and I know that I should never, ever walk through two miles of crappy terrain to get to a race in my cycling shoes.

Sea Otter Onslaught (part one)

My first race at Sea Otter 2011. I am tucked in nicely behind the "NAVAL WALL".

The Sea Otter classic has become a massive event over the years. Just the sheer number of vendors alone was mind-boggling. It’s like Disneyland for cyclists, and you can’t take it all in in one day. This year I didn’t have nearly as much time to check things out as I would have liked. Between two races and taking my two oldest sons, my free time was pretty limited.  Luckily, I had my dad there to watch the boys while I raced.

It was a “boy’s weekend” for the GroveTribe with my father, my two oldest sons and I going. I had hoped that the boys would see the cycling community and start getting excited about it. I wanted to help them develop an interest in cycling and I wanted them to have a chance to see me race. Up to this point, all my attempts to interest them in cycling have not been able to overcome their video gaming preference.

We arrived at Sea Otter and I went straight to registration. The boys initially seem excited that we were there with them asking me about when I would race and they thought the racing numbers were cool. They were interested in the gift shop and all of the Otter gear but their interest soon cooled to the event and the rest of the time they would only play in the bounce house when they weren’t begging to go back to play their video games.

They didn’t have much interest in seeing all that Sea Otter had to offer and I have to admit that I was frustrated that I wasn’t able to share the event with them as I had hoped. They weren’t interested in looking around and so I wasn’t able to visit nearly as many of the vendors booths as I had hoped. The “boy’s weekend” turned out to be “Nintendo DS weekend” but I was still happy to have my dad there and be able to share it with him. Next year will be my wife’s turn to go, I want to take someone with me who would really enjoy the event and be happy to share it with me.




Vendors. Vendors. Vendors everywhere.



My race was late afternoon so I spent the day walking around and by the time the race came around I was tired from walking. Note to self: rest before race not run after young boys and try to ogle the massiveness of Sea Otter. Second note to self: cross-train leading up to Sea Otter so all the walking doesn’t kick my over-specialized butt.

A couple of hours before the race I began the long trek back to the car to gear up, get my numbers pinned on, put on my racing chip and trudge back to the starting line. I left my dad and the boys at the bounce house and prepared myself for my first Sea Otter Race.

Racing at Sea Otter isn’t like all the other races I have done up to this point. Instead of taking on the “local guys” I was going against racers from all over, and there was a LOT OF THEM. These races were big with full fields in all the races. I was beginning to second guess entering myself into the Elite category race instead of the 35+. I was going up against more competition, better competition, younger competition. I found out later that I was the oldest guy in the race.

So there I was in a field of about 50 to 60 racers and I had no teammates entered in this race. As I look around I see a wall of the Naval Postgraduate Academy racers at the head of the pack. There I was, an “Army of One” hoping to take them on without any support. Things were looking grim but I wasn’t about to lie down and die because the odds were stacked against me.  I planned to stay towards the front, looking for breaks and getting on one if I can. If I wanted a chance at a top-ten finish I had to be in the lead group for the final climb.

The weather was warm and windy for the 3:30pm start time.  It was to be a neutral start down a canyon road to a looped course and then we would climb back up the hill that served as a neutral start.

The wall of the Naval Post Grad team numbered at least 9 riders (that is how many were in front of me at the start, there might have been more scattered around).  I lined up directly behind then so that I could spy on them and use them as a wind break as the race got started (is it legal for me to do that to our military?).

As the race got off to a neutral start, the peloton was really sketchy, especially on the descent down Barloy Canyon Rd.  My spider senses were tingling and I was looking for a safe spot to descend when someone in front and to my right crashed.  His crash went left (towards the riders in front of me) and took all of them out as well.  I was suddenly dodging bodies, wheels, hands, legs, and a frame pump (who races with a frame pump?!?!?).  I made it out okay but somehow my seat angle got knocked all the way forward.  I couldn’t get it to go back in place while riding so I got off the bike, got it close enough, hopped back on and caught back on to the peloton.

 

As we went around the loops we would lose riders off the main pack with every climb.  I was worried that the Naval team would have some sort of strategy, but most of them dropped off the main group quickly.  On an early break attempt I used momentum on the rollers to slingshot the gap but the break didn’t stick. 

As the race was going on I was getting tired keeping the pace up the two climbs in the loop.  I sucked through one of my bottles in no time.  I still had a full second bottle when I hit a series of small pot holes the knocked my second bottle (Good bye Body Concepts bottle) out of the cage.  Fortunately Hammer Nutrition was providing support with bottles filled with some sort of energy drink.  It was foul tasting but I needed the energy more than the taste. 

At this point there are about 12 of us left in the lead group. As we go around to the start of another lap a racer aggressively attacks the hill.  I didn’t really consider it much of a threat (the guy seemed pretty tired on previous climbs) and neither did anyone else.  Next thing we knew this guy had a huge lead.  The lead was too big for me to try and gap and I was barely hanging on as it was.  The group eventually organized to get a pace line going to try and catch him.  I was extremely tired and decided not to participate in the line and hung off the back.  That may have ruffled feathers but I felt that if I took a lead I would be too tired to latch back on at the end of the line.  Once organized, the guy was caught pretty quickly and the pace settled down for the last lap through as everyone was anticipating the big climb out.

There were some strong climbers in this group and I didn’t really think I stood a chance at finishing in the top 3 as they had outpaced my best efforts in the loop.  So my plan was to work my way up as many riders as I could on the climb out.  Top 5 isn’t out of the question.  During the climb I was with the group when some riders started to fall off the pace.  Things were going well until a guy next to me started to have shifting problems.  He stared down at his gears and veered left, right towards me.  I stopped pedaling and veered left as well to avoid being hit.  This instantly gave the group a good sized gap on me.  And I was left going solo the rest of the way up.   I did pass another rider, maybe two…  Not enough oxygen to keep the brain working properly so I can’t remember. 

Because of the brutal pace the final hill was difficult. The final hill wasn’t really that steep which I would have preferred as that would have worked to my strengths. I tried to push as hard as I could all the way to the finish and I was thankful to see the white line coming up because I was getting light-headed.

I was so tired at that point that I realized late that I had to do a course correction. I had been drifting towards the right side of the road which is for people who are abandoning the race. As I certainly was not one of them I had to use what little ability and strength that remained to turn back towards the left side of the course. I felt like I was riding through molasses in winter.  There were a lot of people on the side of the road cheering the race on which gave me the extra motivation to keep my exhausted legs moving and finish the race.

In the end I was satisfied because I was utterly wiped; I had put forth my best effort and I raced in the strongest group of riders I have ever ridden against in an elite age-group in such a major race with folks participating from all over. As the results came in I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had finished 8^th!

I was elated! I knew I would be in the final 12 but with all the factors working against me to reach all the way to 8^th place in this kind of race was more than I could have hoped. I immediately called my wife and she freaked out with excitement. She kept telling me how proud she was of me and I was so happy and satisfied that all this work and sacrifice to race was paying off. It was important to me that I could do well and show my family that with hard work and training I could make the most of their support and help.

Once the adrenaline wore off the full brunt of the exhaustion hit me. I had been invited to a Body Concepts party at a house that had been rented by BC teammates in other categories but I had to miss it. I just couldn’t get the energy to try and wrangle two bored boys who hadn’t been listening very well at a “grown-up” event and attempt to recover in time for an early morning race the very next day (what was I thinking?!?).

I finally collapsed into bed wondering how in the hell I was going to survive tomorrow’s race…. (to be continued in Part Two, click here to read)

Dreams, Sacrifice and Getting to Sea Otter

April 16, 2011 Hanging with the Otter while awaiting race results.

Pursuing dreams often involves sacrifice.  Bicycling, like any hobby (and most forms of exercise) isn’t cheap.  I take pride that I have worked hard all of my life, earning my degree, working hard as a teenager at fast food jobs to help me get through college, buying my own vehicles and paying for my own home. But being the good guy, the one everyone can depend on, has its sacrifice. While I was working hard and caring for my family, I always put my dreams and often some of my basic needs aside for all of them.

Without the help of members of my family and the cycling community there is no way I could pursue my dream but even with such help we still run incredibly tight on money with me being the sole-supporter of my family. And so with our family situation, finding a way to get me to Sea Otter wasn’t easy.   

So there we were, still painfully short on funds and as the trip approached, we had some unexpected family expenses come up.  Suddenly we didn’t have enough money for gas or the groceries needed to pack for the trip or for the family members I had to leave behind. So we had to get creative and look at what really matters. A lot of it came down to STUFF vs. LIFE.

We held a last minute yard sale the weekend before Sea Otter to help bridge the gap.  It was a little bit sad because I had to sell keepsake items.  Even more painful than having to sell my motorcycle a couple of months ago, I had to let go of my vintage Vectrex gaming console. I was the original owner of the system bought when I was a child in 1986. I still loved that game system and had so many fond memories of it. However I also realized that I am exchanging old dreams that are just sitting and taking up space in the garage, for new dreams. 

Right before the trip my wife went into extreme baking mode to conserve costs on the trip and to give me a typical diet going into the race.  Since I rarely eat out I didn’t want to flood my body with restaurant food.  (Or pay their prices!)  She baked a lot of chicken, cobbler, and as a parting gift of love for me she created a new recipe -a Peanut Butter Cream Crumble (heavenly creation)- so I could get easy protein or carbs on the go.  I spent hours packing snacks, drinks, utensils and the like so that we could avoid eating out whenever possible.

With my dad going to Sea Otter as well, we were able to share a hotel room and split the cost of the bill.  We also minimized the costs further by only staying two nights. As we were planning the trip we needed to fundraise so we sold some older items on craigslist to pay the registration fees. It seemed like we were giving up so much but my wife viewed it as a spiritual cleansing and potlatch; maybe a hold-over from her Native American heritage. 

In the end the sacrifices were worth it.  Racing at Sea Otter, with its rewards and challenges (to be talked about in a future blog), was more than worth trading in the old dreams.  I feel especially good about being able to engage in a hobby that is both physically and mentally rewarding.  As I get older I am staying in great health (so I can continue to care for my family) and I feel good about myself and my positive contributions to the cycling community. 

The only problem is that it is only mid-April and I already feel like I have achieved my major goals for the year: racing at Sea Otter and getting enough races in to upgrade to a Cat 4.

Time to start dreaming of what the next step will be...

...and figuring out what I could possibly have left to sell to get there.