Vance Creek Road Race

Yesterday was the Vance Creek Road Race, VCRR, and I was very nervous about the race.  I used Strava to look at the profile and noticed one thing immediately...The route was very easy, and fast, for 12.5 miles of each lap.  Then I noticed the last mile had a pretty decent climb.  Why did this make me nervous?  The only place to break the field, and individuals, would be on said climb.

The weather in Elma  was SUPPOSED to be nice-ISH, and I was looking forward to another nice-ISH day of racing.  I left my house at 6 am, and the weather was nice.  I drove past Tacoma, and the weather was nice.  I drove past Olympia, and the weather was nice.  I started done HWY 101 and had a sickening feeling in my stomach...Clouds were everywhere and there was moisture on the road.  The further I went, the more moisture there was...I was chasing the rain, and not happy.  Luckily there never really was much rain, and the roads were not bad at the race staging area. which was at the Satsop Development Park...AKA...The moth balled NUCLEAR facility.  Yes, we were racing in the shadow of a nuclear facility.

As I pulled into the parking lot I noticed a strange buzzing in my ear, the hairs on my arms (not my legs...there is no hair there) were standing up, I had a tingling feeling in my extremities, and knew something was not right...I could not place a finger on it at the time, but it was going to be significant!  Scott was already parked, so I pulled along side and we unload our gear and set up the turbos.  Per our usual routine, we made meaningless, nervous small talk until it was time to sign in and start warming up.

I mounted my bike, like the Lone Ranger mounting Silver, and started to pedal.  That feeling I had upon arriving, at the nuclear plant, was still present and worsening.  I was now developing a green tint to my vision...or was it my skin.  I figured it was no major cause for alarm yet, so I continued my warm up.

David arrived part way through the warm up and said he was going to hit the road.  I asked him to preview the climb for me, which he kindly did.  Being that David is on another team, I totally expected him to come back and explain in horrible detail that the climb was terribly difficult, and that I would struggle up it.  Instead, David being the nice guy he is, told me that it was not too bad, but that it was a climb.

Upon finishing my warm up, I made a quick trip to the beautiful, blue Honey Bucket.  Warning...semi graphic content...While evacuating my bladder, I continued to ponder this feeling I was having.  I then noticed that my pee was green, and I am not talking about with envy (sorry, I could not resist).  I thought to myself "What is going on?"  On the way back to my bike, I noticed my shorts and shirt felt more snug than normal.  I looked at my arms and legs...they were bulging with muscles.  My temper uncontrollably flared, all for no reason, when a guy on a bicycle rode past me.

Scott and I rode over to the start, listened to the normal pre-race directions, nearly froze, and then the race began.  Just as I thought, the course was fairly easy.  The race was 3 laps and totaled nearly 40 miles.  It began with a fast down hill to a long flat stretch of winding country roads.  The roads were in decent shape, had nice shoulders, and nearly zero traffic.

From previous experiences, I again placed myself near the front.  During the course of working, I noticed that a rider from the Olympia Orthopedic team and I opened a gap.  I pulled along side and asked if he wanted to go.  I think his response says it all..."30 second pulls!"  We did a couple of rotations, I looked over my shoulder and told him to shut it down.  The group was about on us...no point in blowing your legs if there is no gap.

Over the next few miles, I would drift back and forth within the peloton.  My goal was to never drift to far from the front, as it can be difficult to work your way back up.  About four miles from the "finishing" climb, you could feel everyone getting tense.  In case you did not know all climbs hurt, it is just a matter of how much hurt you are going to experience.  The largest factor in dictating hurt is speed, which is precisely the reason I was nervous about the race.

As we approached the climb, I was again positioned near the front.  We hit the first part of the climb and the work began.  I noticed that the pace was pretty high and my HR was quickly rising, next I noticed my legs were starting to burn, and finally I noticed we were just about to the top.  I looked over my shoulder and saw that the field was split, and we had quite the gap.  I rode up the outside of the lead group, stated that we had a good gap, jumped on front and began a pull.  After my turn, the work continued and I knew we did not have to worry about that half the field for the remainder of the race.

My group consisted of about 13 riders, two from Olympic Orthopedic and three from Cucina Fresca.  I cannot begin to stress the importance of the previous statement...Team tactics would now start to play out.

At some point on the second lap I noticed that a break had formed, and contained a random rider, one of Cucina Fresca, and one from Olympia Orthopedic.  I was upset that I missed the break, as I tried one earlier.  The group "worked" to bring the break back, but nothing was happening.  Both Olympia Orthopedic and Cucina Fresca were setting false tempos up front.  I finally decided that this was the moment I should try to bridge the gap...about 30 - 45 seconds.

I shot off the front of the group and settled into some serious work.  I glanced at my computer a few times and noticed I was going about 30 mph, working hard, and definitely closing the gap.  After a bit of time my legs were beginning to feel like lead weights, but the lead was still shrinking.  I was within 30 feet and I heard someone in the break state that I was bridging the gap.  We then made a right turn straight into a headwind.  I knew that was a MAJOR problem and immediately saw that the lead was no longer shrinking.  I had a difficult decision to make...keep working, risk blowing up, and possibly not close the gap or sit up, recover, and survive with group I left.  I chose the latter, as I did not want to blow up and have to finish over a lap solo.

After making my decision I looked over my shoulder and saw how far back the group was.  I pedaled along at about 18-20 mph recovering, finally slid back into the group, and waited for the "finishing" climb.  I was more nervous this time due to the amount of energy I spent trying to make the breakaway group.  We hit the climb at a good speed, and I was able to stay with everyone.

Shortly after the climb I saw Dan, from the break, coming back to us.  While this sucked for Dan, I harbored hopes of Cucina Fresca now working to pull back the remaining two guys...Sadly this did not happen.  Dan and I spoke and I felt really bad for him.  Dan thought the race was two laps, sprinted up the climb, and took 1st place...for lap two.  He was then to gassed to hang on and decided to drift back.

With about 5 miles left in the race, our pace slowed to about 18 mph.  I still cannot figure out why.  We all still felt good, the section of road was great, and we were not having to work hard to keep up the speed.  My only thought is that every one was nervous about the selection for the final climb and finish.

We hit the climb hard and the pace rose with each foot covered.  I was in a good position and hanging tough.  A few riders started to fade and I accelerated...too soon!  I forgot about patience and did not have enough once on the false flat. Arghhhh!

My result...11th!  I am very happy with this result, and once again, it is an improvement from my previous race.  In typical fashion, I threw both arms up and proclaimed for all "Best of the Rest!"  Scott and David were not too far back and also earned good results.