Bike Racing

Well, Linnie has cleared me to post to the blog, so here goes.

As some of you know, I started racing my bike last year and routinely write-up the experiences for friends and other folks. I race for a local team called Chris's Cookies. Not wanting to give the impression that I'm all fast and stuff, note that the sponsorship of said team involves mostly cookies and free coffee. It's fun and keeps me out of trouble.

Below is a write-up I did for the first race I did this year. It was in Central Park in mid April. It's a bit long, but such is the nature of random blogs.

Vocab note: the categories of bike racing are labled Cat5 through Cat1 based on experience and speed. This year I'm a Cat4.

Cheers!

-Charles

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Central Park Race
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If the race had ended at 3 laps I would have been just fine.

Sunday morning I found myself pre-dawn shivering in Central Park with 34 degree weather. I'm on the start line of my first ever cat4 race wearing cookies kit, plus two extra jersey's, arm warmers, long underwear, leg warmers, two pairs of socks, and a skull cap. Still, I can't seem to warm up. First race of my second season and my legs are already shaking.

The race organizer walks up, asks for a show of hands: who wants an extra lap in the race? 10 of the field of 30 raise their hands. Of course the other 20 of us are too macho to vote no. So what I thought was a minor 18 miles, became 24. Still, not a long race, at least I figure I'll be warm by the last lap.

Also, just as I'm happy to finally be out of the danger of a cat5 race, they decide to merge the fields. The cat5s will race only the first two laps. So now we've got a 50 person mixed field with the 5s sprinting at the end of the second lap.

Long story shorter, the first two laps were fairly safe, fast with a couple of attacks and thankfully no crashes. The cat5s finish safely and then the speed picks up a fair bit. Going into lap 3 I'm not cold anymore, but I'm hardly feeling sprightly. The third lap sees two minor breakaways caught and I cross the line in the field just as a massive cramp takes over my right calf.

This is my signal to do what I neglected to do earlier, drink lots of electrolyte stuff. I try and fail to gulp down the gatorade I'm packing, knowing it's all too little too late. The cramps spread to the other leg and I know my ability to accelerate is rapidly being lost. I try to set an even fast tempo through the curves and up the hill at the top of the park. As long as I don't change speed, my legs seem ok. I crest the hill still with the main pack which is now down to around 15 riders.

Three fairly organized teams were in the field - pizza, insurance, and sandwich shop - the insurance guys set up a break and the pack responds. They accelerate as the field heads south down the park. A slight rise and the pack pulls away from me. I know this is the moment of truth for my race, either I stand up and stay on or I'm in a scenic solo ride.

Both my legs scream in lock-down mode as I stand thinking: ok maybe I'll race without my lower legs. If I pretend I've got artificial legs from the knee down, maybe I can still spin the pedals? This foggy headed idea of course doesn't work. Mind says yes, legs say no - legs win the day and the pack is gone.

I finish the last 2 or 3 miles at a leisure pace, try to recover, wave at the crossing guards, try to remember that I'm supposed to be doing this for fun and notice that the gray sky is now a brilliant blue. I cross solo and I'm off to a hot shower, big breakfast and a long drive home.