Gran Fondo Leavenworth 2023

Leavenworth was my 'A' race for this Spring. My training was tailored for this event and I had a strong desire to right the wrong that I created last year at this race. My racing team "Fell Swoop" was well represented with five riders of varying abilities.

The weather was warm and I started in my summer kit. A third water bottle containing three scoops of Tailwind drink powder but no water was tucked into my back pocket. The neutral roll out seemed slower than usual this year and I planned to stick next to team mates Thomas and Josh. That plan ended when I needed to stop and dismount after my chain dropped on the first shift of the day. I spent the next four miles inching my way forward in the slowly crawling peleton.

As we approached Eagle Creek road I advised Josh on how the race promoter Jake would honk the horn on his big BMW motorcycle to release us. I was rewarded for my helpful advice. The right shoulder openned up before me and I glided up to the front row just as we were let loose. I waited for two riders to take charge and then I latched on. This excellent position allowed me to sag climb the first few rolling hills.

The pace started hotter than previous years. I was spending too much time over threshold and dropped myself before the road turned to gravel. After the race Thomas informed me why the pace started so high. Pro cyclist Cole Paton was setting pace on the front. He eventually broke free, rode solo, and finished first by 24 minutes. Letting that go was the right choice for me!

Anthony gave me a wheel to ride until the road turned to dirt and then he wished me good luck. Like Anthony, I set my own pace on the climb and it was taken without drama. On the first half of the climb I lost a few positions. On the second half I made up some positions.

 

The steep part of the descent also unfolded without drama. My forearms felt like I found every stutter bump in the road. But the rubber side stayed down. A new rattle, coming from the back end of my Hakka MX, made itself known. I chose not to stop but did give the rear thru axle a look to make sure it wasn't backing out. Once the road flattened a bit I started putting down some power. Moving up the field on the dirt would allow me to lock into a faster group on the pavement.

I took the right turn onto the paved Mad River road at full tilt. While the riders around me sat up to look around I got into the drops. I saw two strong looking riders up the road and put in some work to bridge up to them. I made the catch and the three of us quickly dropped into rotation. This group grew to about ten by the time we reached the Entiat aid station.

I'm never the strongest pedaler in a bicycle race. So I have to be crafty. And make FAST pit stops. At the Entiat aid station I needed to fill the two bottles on my bike and the third in my back pocket. As we approached I moved to the front of our group and rode straight to the water jugs. While nine other riders waited in the water line I was already soft pedalling toward Swakane Canyon.

Entiat to Swakane Canyon is ideal for working together in a paceline. I rode slowly letting riders catch me until we had three. My team mate Josh was one of the riders to join me. He took the first pull and it was long. Thanks man!

What hasn't been written about the Swakane Canyon climb? It is THE defining feature of Gran Fondo Leavenworth. It is hot and dusty and rocky at the bottom. The climbs pitch up and then down. No rhythm can be found. I let the riders around me go up the road. As with most years I walked the steepest pitch and do not regret that decision. My long hours of training this Winter and Spring started to pay near the top. I was able to maintain my modest power output despite the fatigue. Riders were finally coming back to me.

The final mile of the climb is prime time for cramping. Somehow I crested just as my cramps arrived. Each time I used my legs to absorb the bumps on the descent I could feel the cramp twinges coming on. But this I could manage. My descending speed was impacted at first but at least I was still moving. By this point the rattle on my bike was near constant. But everything was working so I raced on.

 

When the descent turned from winding to straight it was time to find a dance partner. Richard Beukema passed me and he looked like a good wheel to follow. Once on the pavement Richard started working. I took a few turns on the front but was clearly not at his level. Our group eventually grew to four. By the time we passed the Old Mill Tavern before the final right turn under the railroad tracks we had agreed not to sprint to the finish line. We took our positions based on who did the most work. Richard was in front. I assumed third wheel in the group and was scored 23rd.

After I crossed the line I waited for Josh to finish. I was pleased to be ahead of Josh but that was enabled only by the MTB race he completed the previous day. I also took a moment to find my rattle. My cassette was coming loose!

Over the next 24 hours I looked back at my day. On one hand I was pleased with my performance. I had certain tools available. My bike, my knowledge of the course, and my fitness. On race day I think I put those tools to work as well as was possible. On the other hand I wasn't that pleased with my performance. I took a pretty big swing at increasing my training this year without measurable improvement. This year's finish time ranked third of the four times I've completed this course.

Overall Gran Fondo Leavenworth was a spectacular day. Fell Swoopers rode strong and placed well. We had great weather, great organization by Jake and his team, and a course that never fails to challenge. I'd like to write more but I need to get to the garage and tighten up some drivetrain parts...

Disappointment, Redemption, Cyclocross Celebration

This blog post ends with the the grandest Cyclocross event on the Pacific Northwest calendar. But the month leading into that event was anything but grand.

A month ago I competed at Fort Steilacoom Park. My on-the-bike performance was on par for me. My performance on the extended length run up could not have been more poor. Lap two was my worst when I lost seven positions at the top of the run. My nearly DFL finish forced me to ask the question 'What went wrong?' I sat on the floor of my van and pondered my preparation.

This year's training plan for pedaling strength was solid. Yet I forgot to add any running work into my schedule. For most of the year I was able to hide my weakness when the run up was short or rideable. Fort Steilacoom Park showed my running legs for what they were. 

It wa snot my best day at the run up. I suffered. And still earned an 'F'.

In the moment, sulking on the van floor, I knew it was too late in the season to add much running fitness. I felt sad to have spent so much effort on a training plan that was flawed and did not, and would not, allow me to race at my full potential. Disappointment.

My teammate Jonas shows proper composure and pace on the run up.

Going into the next race I pivoted my approach. There was little point in sticking to a flawed training plan. I introduced variety into my training. Instead of structured threshold intervals I would participate in a Zwift indoor cycling race. Out were the 30/30 intervals. In were the even more painful run up intervals. The Fort Steilacoom Park run up broke me on race day. I returned to the park to complete my intervals on the very same soil. I did not beleive I could become a runner in two weeks. I did intend, however, to overcome the mental challenge that the run up posed.

Two weeks ago we raced near Graham. Frontier Park is not well liked in the cross community. It is often cold. The layout is uninspiring. But it's the rocks that create the negative vibes.

Despite this poor reputation most everyone I chatted with said this was the best Frontier Park course in memory. The soil had the perfect amount of moisture. The rocks were less prominent. It was warm enough to feel our fingers and toes.

My consitent attendance earned me a front row callup. I lined up next to Doug Graver. Without knowing it two racers were intent on leading into the first corner and the subsequent single track sections. My jump off the line was perfect and I pressed hard towards the first corner intent on the holeshot. Doug knew the risk of being behind traffic in the single track and challenged me at corner one.

We squeaked safely through corner one and I latched onto Doug's wheel entering corner two. We had a small gap into the tight single track and were able to choose our own lines.

I maintained this extraordinary effort for just the first 90 seconds of the race. When I dialed back down to a pace I could sustain for an hour riders began to trickle past. 

Riding my own pace. Hitting my lines. Keeping my good luck leaf at hand.

The remainder of the race was uneventful. Eventually I faded back to mid pack. I kept my head down. For most of every lap I was racing against the clock and my own fitness. For fifteen seconds of every lap I was racing against the run up.

The Frontier Park run up was short and steep. Every lap I gave everything I had. My choice was not tactical. I needed to experience run up success. I was clearing out the emotional residue from my previous run up defeat.

I finished well enough in tenth of twenty-three. More importantly I didn't roll over at the run up and my lap times were a bit ahead of my expectations. Redemption.

My teammate Jonas had a good race and didn't even looked haggard in the process.

One week later I raced at Woodland Park. MFG Cyclocross brought this party/race/event back after a one year hiatus and it was highly billed. It was crazy how many fans and racers were in attendance. The single speed race had 120 starters. Other races included riders in costumes. There were even three tandem teams taking on the course.

This link to some photos of the day might help communicate the atmosphere: https://mfgcyclocross.bike/mfg-6-the-finale-at-woodland-park-photoset/

I enjoyed the festive scene until my race time rolled around. And then I got to business.

The Woodland Park dichotomy ensured I would experience both joy and anguish. I understood the need to burn the matches on the 'climbing up' half of the course. I relished the opportunity to rail the corners and rest on the 'descending down' half.

My expectations were not high as I lined up on the third of three rows for the men's 50+ cat 1/2 start. But I also knew the start was already half way up the hard part of the course and recovery was near. So I chose to start burning matches from the whistle.

I found myself about sixth into the first corner and held that position till the second of the camel humps at the top of the course. I was out of the saddle and feeling humiliated as the second hump humbled me for the first of many laps. After letting a handful of riders slip by I completed the lap in eleventh position and just seven seconds behind the leader.

But I could not sustain the effort and paid a large price. My second lap was one of my slowest. It was also during the second lap that Greg Kauper found my wheel.

We rode the next two laps nose to tail. As we refined our knowledge of the course we were also learning about each other.

Greg was getting out of the saddle more frequently. Every time I saw his saddle sway he pulled ahead by a second or two. My mostly seated style seamed to favor the more technical corners. Instead of trying to match his power I waited till the next set of twisties and was able to get those seconds back.

The nuances of the course were also coming into play. I was finding corners where I could roll without touching the brakes. I fell in love with the winding descent section near the food trucks where I could usually aproach with speed, whip it side to side between the tapes, and make up a second or two on my rival. Through the 'most dangerous' corner I found some grippy soil way inside and rode it motocross style with my inside foot unclipped and the rear tire stepped out. I carried crazy speed into the run up, usually coasted up and over the first log, but could not time my dismount well. Hodala corner, with the huge fan presence, was a favorite. I preferred the outside line and usually responded to the roar of the fans by carrying as much speed as possible around the outside.

After four laps and 28 minutes of racing we crossed the half way point of the race. We had been locked together for over two laps. There were no riders close ahead or behind. It looked a lot like this battle was going all the way to the finish.

After four laps we had also found our roles. Almost every lap we followed a script. Greg led over the start finish line. I stuck to his wheel looking for the tiniest protection from the wind. At the first camel hump I pulled out of his draft and started my climbing effort early only to sag back into line as we approached the top. At the second camel hump he popped out of the saddle and powered away from me. I railed the winding 'S' corners finding recovery and earning back my lost seconds. We would remain nose to tail until the short climb after the tennis courts where I would slingshot past into the single track. His dismount at the bottom of the run up was superior every lap and it was 50/50 who would would remount first. As we aproached the twisties at Hodala corner he would open a gap. I carried more momentum around the Hodala soap feature and was back on his wheel to finish the lap.

Lap Six was tough. This photo was taken just after Greg pulled ahead by five seconds.

On lap five I was at my limit at the top of the run up. Greg sensed my weakness and kept his foot on the throttle. At the end of the lap he had openned a gap of five seconds. This was the largest gap between us the race had seen.

Lap six started hard. I didn't want to hurt anymore. But I had invested too much to give in. I stayed the course. Every corner was open and I hit my lines and carried maximum speed. At the top of the run up, as we neared the end of the lap, I measured a smaller gap. I carried my momentum around Hodala and found myself right back to Greg's wheel. It took an entire lap but I had closed the gap.

Starting lap seven we heard '2 to go'. We stayed on script. Until we didn't.

Half way through last lap eight I was thinking towards the finish and I liked my situation. At the top of the run up we were still close. Greg had been stronger leaving the run up and I let him lead me into the Hodala twisties. 

Finishing the run up with no clear leader.

The twisties were a series of four corners included the soap feature. The grass was grippy. I let Greg have a small gap going into the twisties. Like previous laps I wanted full view of the corners and freedom to pick my line. Just as I had practiced all race I exited the third twist with just a skosh more speed. I carried that speed the long way around the soap feature and passed Greg on the outside. With just two corners to go the battle was mine to lose.

At the second to last corner I became all ass and elbows in an attempt to fill the racing line and make a pass as challenging as possible.

At the final corner I took an inside line that allowed me to get on the power first. If Greg wanted past I forced him to go the long way around. The final paved sprint to the line was uphill and I started a bike length ahead. But Greg didn't roll over. He had the legs to power past me and win the battle. After 56 minutes of racing Greg secured eleventh by two tenths of a second.

From my saddle Woodland Park was a spectacular race. The course was fun and fast and fantastic. My battle with Greg was the most competitive in memory. Having a large turnout of fans was the icing on the cake. Celebration.

I need to give a shout out to my Fell Swoop friends. Kudos to Z-Dog for pushing us all to get off the couch and race or spectate. I also appreciate the time Jonas took to write the great course description. And a big thanks to all the other Swoopers that were course side heckling and yelling and encouraging us to keep spinning the pedals.

Much appreciation also needs to go out to my wife Deanne for supporting me in person at Woodland Park. She cheered me up the run up. She carried my wheels to the pits. She handed me a burrito after the race. She supported me all season. Thank you.

Finishing Hot at Sprinker Recreation Center

The weather for last weekend's Cross Revolution event at Sprinker was like all the others this year. Hot. Dry. Smokey.

The course was a bit different than previous years. The first corner was a 180 degree hairpin on the pavement.  The back section of the course had more sand than previous years. And the layout leveraged the 'bump' by routing us up and over four different ways.

The heat motivated me to carry a full water bottle in my back pocket. Fading due to heat was a strong possibility. I was keen to stick to a pacing strategy that I could carry to the finish.

I received a front row call up for the cat 1/2 45+ men's start. Teammate Jonas was on my left. Doug Graver was on my right. The danger posed by the paved first corner was on everyone's mind.

Doug snapped off the line and was a half bike length ahead when we moved towards each other. By bars met his hip and I bobbled for a second. A second later I recovered my composure and managed to get myself through the first corner in fourth with Doug on my outside hip. I motioned him past on the second straight and slotted happily into fifth. Disaster was averted. Every rider stayed upright through the first corner.

I did not intend to work to hold my top five position. Halfway through the first lap I was letting the leaders slip away and watching the first rider in the chase group work up to my wheel.

On the second lap I let those chasers come by as they needed. I didn't fight them for position. I did notice some of them were not linking the corners together as smoothly as possible.

The dry weather changed the flavor of the Sprinker Recreation Center course. Many sections featured loose surfaces. In some places it was sand. In others we found wood chips. One corner was filled with round river rock. To Chris Adolf's dismay there were multiple sections littered with pine cones. Leaning the bike over through the loose bits brought unnecessary risk so I started searching for alternate lines that avoided the loosest sections.

On the third lap I found my groove. On the front straight I sat up and drank. In the back section I was finding the safest lines. I was putting out consistent power and setting consistent lap times.

On the fourth lap I reached my low point. While dismounted for the sand run up I tripped over my own foot. My bike fell to the ground and I joined it. Picking myself up cost only a few seconds and one position. The greater burden was put on my spirit. The run up jacked my heart rate and I felt no joy as I remounted and finished the lap.

As I finished lap five I received three little rewards. I ditched the water bottle from my pocket. I spectator soaked my jersey as I passed with a stream of cool water. I caught sight of two competitors up the road.

With one full lap to go I got to work planning for the catch and hopefully, the double pass.

I forced myself to stay calm. I needed to bring them back slowly. I increased my efforts into the pedals only marginally.

After five laps of survey I was satisfied with my course knowledge. I rode the most risk free lines through the corners covered in sand or wood chips or those dastardly cones. On the final lap I stuck with those lines but re-introduced some risk by riding them a bit faster.

The first time up the bump I wasn't sure if I was even cutting into their lead. The second time up the bump I put in a solid effort and could see they were indeed coming to me. It looked like the gap was consistent on the flats and I was clawing back seconds on the short climbs. I leaned into this fact on the third climb up the bump and gained some more. I put the Hakka on rails through the next set of corners which ate the remainder of their lead.

With a quarter lap to go I took stock of the situation. Between us and the finish stood three distinct sections. Grassy turns where I had an advantage but passing was difficult. The final push over the bump via the sand run up. And a fast smooth trail section that delivered us nearly to the paved finish straight.

I chose to wait and watch through the grassy turns. The setup was perfect. Dee Patterson was leading our trio and riding the corners conservatively. Alec Duxbury and I followed closely. I gained control of my heart rate.

The approach to the run up included an off camber section that was to my liking. I planned a bold double pass by diving to the low side on the right and gaining the inside position into the right hander. I pipped Alec but Dee held the stronger line through the corner.

At the top of the run up Dee led my by one step. After remounting we both nailed the sand descent and entered the fast trail with my nose to his tail. I realized I was in a position vulnerable to attack from behind. Two quick shoulder checks confirmed that Alec was not in position to make that attack. I shelved all plans for defense and swiveled my thoughts to offense.

I stayed in Dee's draft and looked for clues on his next move. His body language indicated he still had power in reserve. I couldn't let him lead me onto the final straight.

The fast trail dumped us into the final two corners. A right hander that featured pine cones led into a left hander that featured the round river rocks. Each corner had just one good line. Whoever was latest on the brakes would prevail.

I eased up to open a small gap, accelerated into it, and then pulled into the inside position as we braked side by side. My aggression and inside line worked to my advantage. Pass complete.

The course was narrow and bent left where the pavement started. I dropped into my roadie position and spooled up the power. Once on the straight I checked behind expecting to see concession from Dee. Instead my vision was full of him charging my way. I popped out of the saddle and we sprinted for 150 meters. He stuck to my wheel but could not come around and I held onto ninth.

I was hot and tired before I started the final lap. Then I pushed a little extra chasing and catching. The sprint put me over the top and well into the hurt locker. I spent the next five minutes laying on the pavement trying to regain my senses.

The days of Summer Cross are nearing an end. Rain is in the forecast. Mixing dirt and water will create mud. And with that mud we can start proper cyclocross racing.

Racing the Clock at Fort Steilacoom Park

I consider Fort Steilacoom Park my local cyclocross course. When the new MFG Cyclocross team came to my town and put on a race at F.S.P I found it was an easy choice to attend.

Like previous races this year racers were faced with bone dry soil and above average temperatures. This year I've been coming up to speed with dry soil cross racing and how it affects tire choice. For the third race in a row I chose to ride Maxxis Ramblers in size 40mm. I've also been coming up to speed on hydration needs and placed a full water bottle in my back pocket.

When I lined up for the cat 1/2 50+ men's start I joined a group of less than 15 racers. The start was uneventful and we were soon streaming through the dry grass turns that punctuated the bottom section of the course. These grass section turns were flat and smooth and rewarded a smooth entry and exit.

As we passed the pits I noticed Craig Undem was unclipping his inside foot through some corners. I considered shouting a mid race heckle. An instant later my rear wheel let loose and snapped sideways. I figured that was the Karma police reminding me to be kind.

 

My teammate Jonas navigates the bottom turn in the orchard.

A half lap later at the top of the orchard both tires let go. I drifted a short ways before getting the bike in line and barely avoided hitting the ground. This slide put me on edge. It also jolted my memory. Craig and I were both on the same make and model of tire. The Maxxis Ramblers were performing like the proverbial knife in a gun fight. I had no choice but to dial back my cornering aggression for the remainder of the race.

I dialed back my cornering speeds and found myself riding solo. I focused my energy on two challenges. Straightening the corners as much as possible. And choosing a pace that balanced power output and recovery needs.

The elevation profile at F.S.P. created a real recovery challenge. The course had a long stretch of soft sand. Most racers rode it which elevated our heart rates. Just two corners later we were faced with the run up. These two features compounded the suffer and my eyes crossed every lap as I remounted. After a too short off camber section we climbed up to the top of the orchard. Choosing to push too hard in the sand or run up crushed my ability to finish the climb.

At the beginning of the second lap I caught three riders to form a group of four. Warning bells sounded in my head. It was way too early to start scrapping for positions. I quietly backed off to trail the trio by one or two seconds. I needed to listen to my body and choose a pace I could sustain to the finish. After watching them from a distance for two laps they demonstrated their superior fitness and began to inch away.

Patrick also offered full face water splashes. I opted for a simple water bottle hand up.

By mid race I was suffering from the heat. My water bottle was a one-time-use solution. There was no feasible way to put the bottle back into my pocket once removed. My friend Patrick from Grit City Health came to my rescue. He saw me suffering and offered a bottle hand up. A lap later he offered another. Thanks Patrick!

On lap four I committed to maintaining my effort to the finish and aimed for perfect pacing. I dialed in the appropriate amount of suffer on each trip up the run. I worked hard enough to prevent the leader of the elite group from lapping me. I crossed the line without drama to complete seventy minutes of racing.

I squeaked into the top ten with another ninth. My lap times showed pacing improvement. If I exclude the first lap the other six are all within twenty seconds of each other. The final four laps were within five seconds of each other. At the end of the race I was executing solid pacing.

I also improved my performance against my common rivals. I lost one minute to Craig compared to losing four minutes the previous week. I lost four minutes to the winner compared to losing six minutes the previous week. I survived a full seventy minutes of racing.

Fort Steilacoom Park loves to challenge me. This race was no exception. F.S.P. also makes me a stronger racer. Next weekend we visit Sprinker Recreation Center for what will likely be another warm and dry cross event. I'm hoping that I've learned enough to improve my showing at these California style cross events.

Arlington Airport 2022

Two weeks ago, at Evergreen High School, I did not race up to my potential. After a couple weeks of thought I determined it was time to change my pacing strategy. The Cross Revolution race at Arlington would be the test to determine if my pacing could be improved. At first glance both events appeared to share many similarities. They both were held on warm dry days that invited some sweat and dust. Both courses featured dry grass, a run up, and a sand section. Despite the similarities the Arlington event turned out to be a different animal.

The dry grass at Arlington had been cut much longer and hid hard lumpy soil. The course included two single track sections that each concluded with a prominent feature. The first single track section led right into the run up which, unlike the Evergreen H.S. run up, could often be ridden. The second single track section ended with a traditional sand section. My sand riding skills returned and I was usually able to ride this section. These course features figured into my race finish.

After taking a few laps to view the course I conferred with my teammate Jonas. Overall the course was not all that technical. We discussed where to invest power and where to find some recovery. The warm temperatures motivated me to stow a water bottle in a rear jersey pocket. Heat and hydration figured into my race finish.

We had about twenty riders on the line for the men's cat 1/2 45+ start. I navigated the first corner safely and quickly settled into my own pace as the top six or eight riders sped off.

After my last race, where I pushed hard to ride with the lead group for three quarters of the first lap, I approached Arlington with a different pacing plan. I challenged myself to ignore my competitive drive in the early laps and aim for even splits.

Within a lap I found myself trading positions with Andrew Lynch. I was better at riding the run up. He was better on the flats. I worked to keep my competitive emotions in check and focused on optimal pacing. By half way I heard the announcer say we were competing for seventh place. At about this time I checked back to see a small gap on Andrew. I felt confident I could stay ahead to the finish.

My fitness and pacing seemed a good match. Every lap I hit some big watts to ride the run up. Every lap this effort maxed my heart rate. But I could get it back under control within a minute or two. The same pattern emerged through the sand section. The suffer meter was pegged immediately after those efforts and my body repeatedly bounced back.

When I saw the lap counter announce two laps to go my head drooped. The heat was catching up with me. I wanted so much to be done. Internally I questioned my ability to race another twenty minutes.

Just one lap later I stripped those doubts from my mind and replaced them with a larger problem to solve. Andrew Lynch was closing the gap and bringing Colin Ferguson with him. With less than a lap to go they worked up into striking distance. I kept an eye on them through the single track as we approached the run up. Luckily, when I needed it most, I nailed the run up. This effort opened up my gap. But, for the first time all day, I could not get my heart rate under control once back on the flats. I was just two or three minutes from the finish and completely gassed. They both pedaled right by.

My heart pounded inside my chest and I barely kept the bike rolling into the final single track section. The slow turns of single track allowed just tiny bit of recovery. My focus during my final trip through the sand was absolute and I rode it convincingly. As I completing the sand section I glanced up to realize both Andrew and Colin were forced to run. My ride through the sand closed the gap and we were tight as we entered the final set of flat grass turns. My competitive drive took over the controls and snapped me to attention.

Andrew and Colin's body language showed they also realized the race was on. I knew just two of the final four corners offered decent opportunities to wrestle back a position. The first opportunity, a right hander, was most ripe for a pass and I pushed hard on the pedals to gain an inside position. My competitors sensed this and stayed on the gas all the way to the corner. The final left hander was tighter but still offered a passing lane. I set myself up well but my legs lacked the snap to get me into a solid passing position. I showed my wheel but Andrew granted no gift. A three second blanket covered all three of us as we crossed the line with Colin nabbing seventh and Andrew in for eighth.

I was destroyed. Snot dripped off my face. Dust covering my sweaty skin. The three of us shared fist bumps to celebrate our spectacular finish to a truly grueling race.

On the long drive home I over analyzed the final lap of the race and grinned on every replay. Once home I looked at lap times that showed my laps times were about twenty seconds slower in the late laps as compared to the early laps. That is a bigger drop than I hoped for but still OK.

More importantly, I wondered to myself if equal splits was the right pacing strategy. I concluded it was the best strategy for me. The Arlington course did not play well to my strengths. The flat and bumpy straights required raw sustained power. I cannot usually match the raw power of the race winners. By letting the front runners go from the gun I was able to sustain a moderate effort for 62 minutes.

Kudos to Andrew and Colin for the reminder that we were in a 65 minute race.

My search to find ways to trim a few seconds in ongoing. For the short term I'll continue working on three obvious avenues for improvement. I'll continue my training regimen and reach for a few more watts. I'll commit more practice at pacing correctly for the course. And I'll pray for some rain.

Sand Section Lesson

A single corner at my last cyclocross event unwound my entire race. The corner in question featured a slight decline and quite dry sand. Lap after lap I failed to navigate the sand. At the end of the day I guessed that my poor execution in this one corner cost me about 90 seconds over my hour of racing. Those lost seconds have motivated this blog post and hopefully a chance to avoid a similarly large error in the future.

The corner in question required bike handling skills and a real time tactical choice to ride or run. Riding was fastest. Running was slower. Attempting to ride, failing, and resuming on foot was slowest. No measurements were available so I'll share my best estimates of ten seconds to ride, fifteen to run, and thirty if a ride attempt failed. Running affects my heart rate negatively and those downstream affects are included in my time estimates.

There was a large risk and small reward for attempting to ride the sand section. And therefore the question is why, in the moment, I made the risky choice to ride the sand corner seven of seven laps despite my string of failed attempts.

The answer is poor assumptions. First, however, some background information that informed my assumptions.

1. Riding was faster than running.

2. On my first sighting lap I realized the challenge of the sand corner and rode it repeatedly to verify riding was a choice with a high percentage of success.

3. During the race I was watching for evidence that other riders were resorting to running the sand and found none.

4. My bike handling is solid (usually). If my competitors can ride an obstacle likely I can as well.

5. During the race I was tracking the changes in the sand section.

If I look at all these points of information statically it appears running is the better tactical choice. Adding in the dynamic points of changing sand conditions and lack of other runners still pointed to riding the sand. On race day this was the end of my analysis and it cost me dearly.

After stewing on my failure for a week my false assumptions became more clear.

The changing sand conditions were eroding two of my data points. The number of seconds to ride the sand was inching up and the ride success percentage was inching down. I wasn't taking this into account in real time.

My second poor assumption regards the absence of other runners. My failure to see runners does not disprove their existence. I suspect plenty of my competitors were choosing to run. I failed to consider this possibility and subsequently failed to reconsider my ride vs run choice.

My general assumption that good bike handling applies to every patch of sand was too optimistic. This short stretch was not in my wheelhouse.

Bringing it all together I believe I was operating with generally good information and thought processes. These general principles were in play for every challenging section of the course and bringing good results everywhere save the sand section. A few poor assumptions, however, conspired to undermine my real time thinking process.

Going forward I want to close the door on this type of failure. Which is a tough nut to crack. Reasoning through my race day assumptions while executing 400 watt intervals on the bike is not feasible.

I do possess another feedback system. It runs the software in my head that is informed by my race experience. This system is subjectivity. I needed no stopwatch to know after my first failed attempt at riding the sand that my execution was 'bad'. After my second or third failure the switchboard for this system was aglow with red blinking lights.

As I continue to contemplate the sand section failure I hope to update my decision system by adding subjectivity as a reality check. When I am riding well I plan to allow data and assumptions to run the tactical decision show. When the primary system leads to a subjectively 'bad' decision I need to be more open to quickly hitting the reset button.

The Cross Revolution series takes us next to Arlington where I'll try to update my real time decision making. Expect me to write about it soon.

Cross Revolution at Evergreen HS

Cross Revolution took us to the Evergreen High School venue and race day found us under sunny skies and 70 degree warmth. The course was, of course, dry. It seemed pretty fast and contained quite a few short, steep ascents. In general it was similar to last year's event at this venue.

As the first race on my calendar I was using this race to evaluate this year's equipment and fitness.

The Bike

I was not alone in choosing to race a Ibis Hakka MX. During warm up I noticed there were at least five Hakkas in the same color as mine. While waiting on the start line I noticed a few more. This boosted my confidence in my equipment. But the real test happened on the course and the Hakka shined. I'm adapting well to the less precise steering at low speeds. At speed the handling was rock solid stable. And it railed the fast corners.

The Tires

Cornering speed is dependent on tires and my choice of tubeless Maxxis Ramblers in 40mm was an outlier. A quick survey indicated most racers were sticking with 33mm wide tires. Luckily a racer I know was also testing a set of Ramblers. And this racer knows his way around a cross course. When I asked Craig Undem about his experiences so far he admitted this was his first race on the Ramblers. We agreed to share notes after the race.   

My Fitness

Racing cyclocross requires short bursts of power. I can match the fast guys' accelerations once or twice or even twenty times. Cyclocross racing requires hundreds of these short efforts. The power numbers from my power meter don't tell the whole story. An hour of racing did.

Cat 1/2 Master Men 45+

I lined up in the second row behind Craig. He knew that when 25 racers funneled into the first few turns there would be mayhem. When he powered off the line I dug deep to stay on his wheel. After a handful of quick turns the course straightened and I found myself in fourth and well ahead of the traffic jams. After letting one rider come by on the next straight I clamped on to the tail end of the lead group for as long as I was able.

Cat 1/2 Master Men 45+ start. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle.

The run up exposed a crack in my fitness. The other members of the lead group didn't show as much hurt when we remounted at the top.

The sand section exposed another weakness. I bobbled, had to put a foot down, and watched the leaders ride away.

Lap two played out a lot like the first lap except I raced with the chase group. This group was also about five. This group also rode away when I, again, botched the sand section.

In the moment I realized I was matching the power and corning speed of the riders in these two groups. But my frustration was growing with my bike handling in the sand section.

For the remainder of my race I rode mostly alone. The patterns established on laps one and two were repeated. Get crushed by the run up. Recover well enough a few turns later. Then botch the sand section where I would both lose time and put out extra effort to run the bike out of the sand. Had I been racing against the sand section it would have been judged the winner. In seven laps I rode it clean just once. On four of the laps I bobbled, lost momentum, and then dismounted to finish the section on foot. Twice I hit the deck.

Dwaine concentrates during one of the many short grassy descents at Evergreen HS. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle.

On my second to last lap the leaders of the Cat 1/2 men race were closing in and threatening to put me a lap down. I focused myself, barely stayed away, and earned myself the privilege of one more lap. I finished 14th of 22 finishers in my class.

Findings

Sand Sucked. Most days I can find the bike handle. But the short sand section had my number. There is, however, more to this story. My poor performance led me to do some serious thinking on why the wheels fell off and how I will get them back on. Expect a blog post about this topic next week.

Fitness OK. On the sections of the course that did not require running I was pretty pleased with my fitness. More often than not I could push watts into the accelerations and find enough recovery to repeat.

Run up not OK. My legs felt weak. My heart rate hit the ceiling. The run up became my Kryptonite.

Tires. I was staring at the ground with drool escaping when Craig approached me after the race. Despite identical tires we experienced different race outcomes. Craig took his Ramblers to 3rd place. Chapeau.

We shared our thoughts on the Maxxis Ramblers and found consensus. They sucked up the bumps well. We both ran pressure in the low 20's and appreciated the lack of sharp jolts coming through the saddle. Cornering was predictable and on par with a typical 33mm file tread. The Ramblers also gave great feedback. There was a slight sense of tire rollover when a tire was overloaded. When the limit of traction was reached they let go predictably.

Evergreen High School was not my break out race. But the news was not all bad. My equipment choices were solid. Despite a single race in the books this boosted my confidence about this year's equipment and I'm looking forward to spending more energy on race craft and training. I'm also encouraged by some aspects of my fitness and feel like there is still a little more to be found.

Finally, the difficulties in the sand section have forced me to challenge some of my assumptions. I've heard you either win or learn. This week the sand chose for me and I'll be back next time a little wiser.