A Rider’s Almanac

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Hey, thanks to my most excellent donors, I won the Stages 7-10 Challenge of the Bike MS Tour de France Challenge. Because we raised over $400 I was entered into a drawing for a$60 Performance Bike Gift Card - and I actually won. How cool is that? A little fundraising bonus

If the Alpine Challenge was run by the same organizing body as the Tour de France, they would likely ban Arlyn. The guy is an animal. Last week I rode the 103 mile ADA Tour de Cure with him and he ended up towing me home the last 20 miles. He pretends like he is suffering throughout the first 3/4 of the ride and then puts down the hammer and destroys the field.

This week’s sacrificial lamb was me at the Alpine Challenge. I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not a climber, but I feel like I’m in pretty good shape and I have all those years of racing/training under my belt (right?). As usual, I felt really good for the first 2/3 of the ride. I was setting a comfortable pace up the long climb and it seemed to be hurting those around me (big ear-to-ear smile). I was even able to gap “el doper” a couple times. Granted they were small gaps, but heck, a bike length is a bike length.

At about mile 40, there is a 10 mile “bonus section” that is a 5 mile out-and-back leg with a nasty little hill that needs to be negotiated twice (once in each direction). I knew as soon as Arlyn spotted a rider ahead of us that I was in trouble. He’s like one of those trail horses that senses he’s close to the barn. Or perhaps a better analogy is a shark that senses blood in the water. I felt fine up and over the climb on the way out, but as soon as we hit the short flat section at the bottom of the climb before the turnaround, I knew I was in trouble. Arlyn was simply pulling away from me and quite quickly gapped me. Feeling guilty from dropping me last week - and forcing me to chase for 10 miles on my own when I had a slight mechanical problem - he sat up and waited for me. When I eventually caught him, I told him that he should ride on ahead because I was “done.” No sooner had I released him from his team obligation, he was gone, not to be seen again.

By the time I arrived at the finish, Arlyn had showered, changed, eaten lunch and received a massage. He was hanging out with a Spanish doctor friend of his looking as fresh as he did at the beginning of the ride. I thought it strange that the doctor would only refer to Arlyn by his initials, but I figured that was a Spanish thing.

It’s all good

Looking for something to do on Tuesday nights? If so, I highly recommend that you head out to the San Diego Velodrome @ Morley Field to watch some of San Diego’s fastest bicycle racers - both young and old - take to the track in a variety of different race formats. The racing gets underway at 6:30pm and lasts until approximately 9pm.

Last night was the second night of the regular season at the San Diego Velodrome and judging by the crowds in the stands and the riders in the infield, track racing is regaining in popularity among the locals. There was easily over 100 people in the stands, and I’d say 50-60 racers present spread over three categories [Category: # of riders] (A’s -really fast: 12, B’s -kinda fast: ~25, C’s -beginners: ~20.

I showed up to race with the A’s. I arrived at ~6:15 to find that the track was being closed to warm-ups - oops. After the track was cleared, the juniors hit the track for a series of races. Directly following the juniors was the first event of the evening for the other riders - a motor-pace session with all three categories on the track simultaneously culminating with a sprint. It works like this: All of the riders arrange themselves such that there are three groups on the track. The C’s are the first group and follow directly behind the motorcycle. The B’s follow behind the C Group leaving a small gap between the C Group and themselves, and the A Group follows behind the B group in a similar fashion. Within each group, each rider takes a full lap pull and then rotates to the back of his respective group to allow the next rider within his group to take his turn at the front. The C’s ride 15 laps and then sprint for the line. At this point, the B’s follow directly behind the motorcycle for an additional 15 laps and then sprint, and then the A’s take up position behind the motorcycle for an additional 15 and then sprint. After racing around the track for 45 laps reaching speeds in the mid 30s, I took 3rd - missing 1st by less than a foot and 2nd by even less than that.

Following the motor-pacing session, each category in turn hits the track for another event. Each week the events are changed up to keep it interesting for both the racers and the fans. Last night, the A races included: A 12 lap Snowball - where the winner of each lap gets n-points equaling the lap number (i.e., Lap 1=1pt, Lap 2=2pt, Lap 12=12pts). I went off the front on lap three and took laps 3, 4 & 5 and then I was quickly swallowed up by the pack. It was a good idea on my part, but it would have been wiser to go a bit later so that the point count was higher. I worked really hard to stay off the front for three laps, but ended up with the same number of points as the guy who one the single sprint on lap 12. Next was a Miss-n-Out - where the last rider across the line on each lap is pulled from the race. When there are only three riders left, they sprint for position. I spent more time watching this one then racing it, if you get my meaning. The last race of the night for the A’s was a 5 mile scratch race in which I ended up taking 5th.

There was a nasty little crash in one of the B races caused by one rider overlapping wheels with another rider. Two riders went down pretty hard and got scraped up a bit, but fortunately both riders walked away without serious injury.

It was a great night of racing for both the riders and the fans. A word to the wise; it was really, really cold at the track last night, so when you head out to the track, remember to bundle up. You might also want to bring a few bucks with you to purchase a warm beverage from the snack bar.

See you next week at the track.

I’ve raced on half-a-dozen or so velodromes in a few different states over my cycling career. I’ve raced on 250m tracks, 333m tracks and 400m tracks. I’ve raced on tracks at altitude (Colorado Springs), tracks that I thought had steep banking (the old Olympic Track at Dominguez Hills - 34 degree banking), and very old tracks with shallow banking (San Diego’s velodrome at Morley Field - 23-27 degree banking).

I remember the first time I raced the tracks at Encino (250m) and Dominguez hills (333m). Dominguez was the site of the ‘84 Olympic Games. At the time, to me, this was some hallowed ground. Apart from the Olympic allure, the tall steep banked turns are what caught my attention. Preparing to race on banking like that for the first time provokes quite a bit of anxiety. When one is used to riding on banking that hovers around 23 degrees, encountering banking that is 10+ degrees steeper is quite intimidating. Adding to the effect is the height (width) of the turns. The track at Encino has similar banking, but the track is only 250m. This results in the turns being much tighter. This has the effect of significantly increasing the G-forces the rider feels when sprinting through the turns. This force literally pushes the rider into the track exerting significant force onto the arms and neck.

None of this experience prepared me for the new world class velodrome at the Home Depot Center in Dominguez Hills. Built in 2004 at a cost of $15 million, the new La Velodrome at the ADT Event Center is 250m indoor wood bicycle racing track that sports 45 degree banking in the turns, leveling out to 13 degree banking in the middle of the straights. 45 degree banking…think about it… that is really, really steep.

In my attempt to get back into race fitness as quickly as possible, I’ve been signing up for every race I can find on both the road and the track. I’ve found that early season racing is the best, if not the only, way to get back into race fitness. I find it really hard to train at the same intensity on my own training rides. In this vein, I planned to race at the LA Velodrome on 2/16. From the moment I signed up for the race, I was extremely anxious - scared is more accurate. I feared the idea of 45 degree banking. How does one not simply slip off the track? How can my tires possibly stick? How fast does one have to go to stay on the track? All of these thoughts and more were going through my head.

Yesterday was finally the day of the race, and I was even more anxious then before. To be allowed to ride on the LA Veldrome, you either need to be an USAC (USCF) Cat-1 on the track, or hold an accreditation (i.e., take an intro class) from the track. I happen to be a Cat-1 on the track, but I still thought it would be a very good idea to take the intro class to find out if there was anything special I should know about this particular track. As it turns out, the track offers an accelerated accreditation class the hour prior to racing.

I arrived at the track a couple hours early. I did this so that I could check out the track and watch some other riders ride before I was supposed to. Walking into the ADT Center for this first time is quite awe inspiring and impressive. Most of the tracks that I ride on are old, outdoor, concrete tracks that don’t look very impressive. They’re usually associated with some county park and they may or may not be surrounded by a chain link fence. The standard tracks in California usually boast a grassy infield with a bleacher or two, but not much to write home about. The LA Velodrome is completely different. This isn’t your mother’s velodrome, this is a venue. Imagine if they plopped a 250m velodrome into the center of the San Diego Sports Arena and your vision would be close.

The pictures of the track on the LA Velodrome web site do not do the track justice. The track looks like a giant wooden salad bowl (albeit more of a stubby cigar shape), and the banked turns are like vertical walls. When you enter the venue and approach the track from above (where the seats are), the banked turns look almost completely vertical. I was even more anxious. In the turns, the track does not gradually increase in steepness, it’s 45 degrees starting right at the apron. I honestly do not believe that it would be possible to walk up to the top rail in the middle of the turn - it’s that steep. In fact, there is a sign afixed to the infield of the velodrome that reads, “If you slide off the track, your day’s session is done.” Warm fuzzies…

I registered for the day’s races and walked my equipment into the infield of the track. From this vantage point, the banked turns looked even steeper and for the first time I noticed how tall the turns were. I’m not exactly sure how wide the track is, but from the bottom of the turn, it seemed like the banking rose up about 100 feet. It was insanely steep and insanely high (tall) - anxiety on overload. If I were a baby, I would have fallen asleep from the overload. Those of you with children will understand this.

The accreditation class covered general track etiquette and some points related specifically to the LA Velodrome. If you have some reasonable track experience, then nothing new was really covered. Taking the class did ease my anxiety a bit though. There are two parts to the class: the “classroom portion,” and the riding portion. 15 minutes before the racing was to begin, the track was closed so the newbies could get on the track. This was done to protect the other riders in case any of us newbies should slide off the track.

I actually hopped on the track a bit before this and to my amazement; it was simply like riding a bike. At first I rode on the apron (the completely flat and level portion of the track), then once I was up to speed, I rode up just above the Sprinters Lane - not too far to fall from here. When you’re on the track, it doesn’t seem so scary. I rode around at this level for a bit and then gradually rode higher and higher on the track. First to the Stayers Line (the blue line near the middle of the track) and then up to the rail. I tagged onto the end of the pace line that was spinning around the track and worked in the group for a bit to get used to the close contact on this track. Again, it was like every other track. After a bit, I picked up the pace and practiced some full speed corning. The increased down forces that I was accustomed to from Encino were present and expected. At speed, the banking in the turns is very welcome as one is almost perpendicular relative to the banking of the track. Incidentally, this means that the rider is almost parallel to the horizontal surface of the velodrome floor. Aside from the banking, the first thing one will notice when riding on the LA Velodrome is how smooth the track is. All of the other tracks I’ve ridden on are bumpy, but not LA - smooth as glass. I found the track to have very good grip. I did not feel like I was slipping at all. Others were not so lucky.

During the training and racing sessions, I saw four different riders fall. One simply slipped off the track. For those of you who think falling riders will slide on the wood; trust me, they don’t. I should caveat that a bit. They do slide, but they leave a bit of skin behind. Unlike sliding across the asphalt where the skin is chewed up and torn and tiny bits of the road are deposited into the wound, sliding on the wood is more like sliding across the rug. The rider ends up with what looks like a nasty rug burn with the top layer of skin removed. The wounds are very clean though. A couple other riders went down after a race. I think one slipped and took the other out. Finally, a rider crashed in one of my races as he literally snapped his very expensive Easton Carbon Fiber handlebars. He literally ripped one of the drops off.

During the first mass start race of the day; I was still a bit anxious. I was comfortable on the track tooling around on my own, but now that it was time to race, there were still some nerves. A few laps into this race, I was feeling very comfortable and all of the anxiety and concerns I was feeling leading up to this point had subsided. Not knowing how this process would go, I had decided to select a very light race schedule. I did not win any of my events - nor was that my goal - but I did do much better than I had done the previous week in San Diego. Next time I hit the track, I’ll be going for the win. No more excuses!

The net of my experience at the LA Velodrome is that I’m hooked. This track totally rocks. It is definitely my new favorite track. I plan to do quite a bit more racing in LA.

… makes you stronger, or so the adage goes.

I raced at the velodrome today and it was hard. I haven’t raced on the track in about a decade and a half, but my mind still has memories of past victories. I didn’t win anything today, but I was the recipient of a great workout and it was great to be mixing it up back on the track again.

Racing the last two weeks has taught me that my fitness is in pretty good shape, but I still have quite a bit of work to do if I plan to be winning any races,  and I do. On the track today, I felt pretty good early into the 60 lap motor-pace session, but just didn’t have enough left in the tank to push it to the next level required to take the victory. With one lap to go (the bell lap), I found myself on the front - not where I wanted to be. The pace had been whipped up to 32mph and I just didn’t have the fitness to keep it going.

After the initial 60 lap session, I was pretty well spent. The eight lap scratch was roughly seven laps too many and the 20 lap scratch was just painful. It’s clear that I need to start pushing the bigger gears in training.

The last race of the day wasn’t actually a race at all. Six of us took to the track to attempt a 5 mile Madison record. I don’t think there was much thought that we were actually going to break any records today, but it was a good excuse for practicing Madison exchanges. 5 miles equates to 24 laps on a 333m track so each of us took 4 pulls. A real Madison is a trip to watch if you ever get the chance. I highly recommend it. I was a bit rusty on the receiving end of the exchanges, but I can throw with the best of them.

Oh yeah… It turns out that two if not three of the guys I was racing today are past or current World Champions on the track. I guess I should have figured the World Champion stripes on their jersey’s and bikes weren’t simply there for decoration.

On another positive note, I had by far the largest cheering section of any rider on the track. Many of the Team Climb On! faithful were there urging me on and it certainly helped. I definitely owe you guys a victory or two!

I’ve been sick all week and haven’t gotten in squat for mileage, so I was itching to get out on the road today. I’m planning to race at the velodrome tomorrow, so the plan was to take it easy.

It couldn’t have been a nicer day on the road. I headed up the coast for an easy spin with a plan of doing somewhere between 30 and 40 miles. Along the coast, it was sunny, the winds were relatively calm, the sky was clear except for some haze on the horizon, and I could see forever. I tend to take the good weather we have in San Diego for granted, but after a few weeks of unseasonably cold weather, it was nice to have a day in the mid 70s.

I don’t know if it was because I was fresh from not riding much during the week, or if it is the recovery from my sickness, or if it was just the beautiful weather, but I ended up riding a bit further then I had planned and at a pretty good clip. I’m a bit tired now, but I feel good and hopefully I will be recovered by tomorrow.

I ended up getting in 42.5 miles at an average speed of 19.1 mph and it felt really, really easy.

Today I decided to head down South and do a short circuit. I rode the circuit 100 times! A little interval training goes a long way.

The map looks a bit more interesting if you turn on the satellite view.

…stays [this racer] from the swift completion of [the 5th annual Red Trolley Classic Criterium]

I recently signed up for my first bike race in a long, long time. I used to be a reasonably good racer on the track and road back in the day, but that was back in the day. I was excited to have the chance to race again, but I was also a bit anxious. When the forecast for the day of the race was rain, I was bummed, and had decided I wouldn’t ride if it was wet. 

I watched the weather all day and it never improved; in fact, as the day progressed, it became windier and the rain persisted. It so happens that I live about 2 miles away from the crit course, so I drove over to check out the conditions of the course.

The course was wet, it was windy, but as I watched a couple races and contemplated racing in the rain, the rain subsided (a bit). Back in my collegiate days, I had competed in plenty of races in the rain. The one that I was reminded of was my first rainy criterium at UC Berkeley. I remember watching the earlier racers competing in their race and at almost every corner, it was pure carnage. Not the best thing to see before one is about to race. So with that thought running through my head, I walked the course.

It turns out the course, although wet, had a really good surface and was very gritty. Even the striped paint - not something one typically wants to corner on in the rain - was gritty - almost sandpaper like. It’s probably been a good fifteen years since I competed in my last real race, so although the conditions were not ideal and I had memories of Berkeley dancing through my head, I was very eager to race again.

I checked in for the two races that I had signed up for - The 35+ Master’s Race and the 1/2/Pro Race. I wasn’t having delusions of grandeur with regards to the 1/2/Pro Race, but I figured it would be a really good workout. I figured that if I made it through the Master’s Race that I would go ahead and ride the other. I still hadn’t decided weather or not I was actually going to race, but I had already paid, so I checked in.

I drove back home to get dressed and grab my bike. As I was driving, the rain really picked up and the wind began to gust even more than before. I was thinking to myself, what the hell am I doing. When I was 20, there wouldn’t have been any question, but now, the thought of sliding across the pavement at 30 mph isn’t as appealing. Nevertheless, I dressed, pinned my numbers on (one on top of the other) and began riding back to the course. It was raining harder than before, it was windy, and it was cold. By the time I rode the 2-3 miles back to the course, I was soaked. I wasn’t 100% sure if I wanted to start the race yet, but at least now, I was telling myself that I should start and see how things go. “If it’s sketchy I can always pull out,” I thought. I paid, so what the heck.

It was time to stage for the race. 40 racers had signed up for the race. I’m not sure exactly how many started - because of the weather and the Super Bowl - but I would guess it was right around 30. Still raining hard, windy -

 The race started and I was immediately in a bit of bother. The course was very wide and most of the turns were large sweeping corners. Definitely not what you would call a technical course by and stretch. The one turn that concerned me came at the end of a high speed, sweeping downhill and the corner had a couple manholes and a lot of paint - in the form of a crosswalk and the word STOP painted on the street - to contend with while negotiating the turn. During the first few laps - probably 10 - I was a bit cautious, which resulted in me having to do a bit of work to catch the pack after the turn. The saving grace - in some ways - was the fact that after negotiating the turn, the course sprinted up a bit of a hill. The hill was similar to a freeway overpass - short and sweet - which gave me a chance to get out of the saddle and sprint back into the pack. I like these kinds of hills on a crit course. This hill was nowhere near as evil as Cat’s Hill in the San Jose area if you’ve ever done that race, but it was causing some of the riders some pain - me included. About 5 minutes into the race, I was already wondering if I was going to be able to finish. I had that Lance Armstrong sound bite going through my head from his latest commercial in which he says, “Pain is temporary and quitting is forever.” I wasn’t about to quit!

I spent most of the race sitting at the back of the main field. I didn’t want to get mixed up with any nasty spills. The rain along with the water from the street was being kicked up by all the riders in front of me and pelting me in the face. It felt like I was riding my bike in the shower, only the water was full of dirt and grit. It was totally fun!

Mid way through the race, I began to fill more comfortable in the corners, which was good because I was tired of giving up ground in the turns. I love to corner, but it had been awhile since I’ve done it at race pace, amongst other riders, and in some nasty conditions. With the better cornering along with having had some time to warm up, I was feeling much better and I was no longer hurting. I was working, but I wouldn’t say I was hurting. Of course I’m saying that as I write this, which is after having taken a shower and eaten dinner.

As the race progressed, three total losers lapped the field - bastards! At the same time, riders were being dropped off the back of the main field. With 5 laps to go, three additional riders had escaped off the front and the remaining field was down to 10 riders - me included! I hadn’t raced in over 15 years, so I was quite content with being in the main field and completing the race. 

I didn’t sprint for position, I didn’t see the point. My goal was to simply complete the race and dust off some of the mental and muscle memories that have been pent up over the last decade. I gained quite a bit of confidence and might work a little harder to contend for victory the next time around. I ended up finishing around 12th.

I’m glad I raced! Btw, I decided not to compete in the 1/2/pro race.