Stafford Sprint Duathlon: The Bridge

"I knew the moment had arrived

For killing the past and coming back to life"

Pink Floyd - "Coming Back To Life"

The 2nd Annual Stafford Tri/Du/Aqua has a new twist this year. The bike course had changed to include and out and back over the Manahawkin Bay Bridge. Once I saw this, I knew I HAD to race this course. It was a bit shorter than Hammonton with the bike leg being only 11.something miles. But I wasn't going to quibble. It was The Bridge! 

This was also my first travel race. Manahawkin is about an hour drive from where I live. Combined with the 7am start time, I decided it would be smarted to be closer. So I booked a hotel down the road in Atlantic City. And I can say this is the first time I've ever been to AC, and not spent it out and about involved in shenanigans. I was a complete good boy - stop snickering, I was! 

Woof Mother Effer. Woof.

Anyway, packet pick up was at the transition site at 4pm, we bounced up the Garden State Parkway, and got my packet. Only they didn't give me any pins for my bib, or a strap for my timing chip. Zoinks. No problem, that was taken care of in the morning. So back to the hotel room, the gaggle went out to do what ever my gaggle does, I ate some dinner I brought with me and settled down to relax.

I had planned to go to bed at 8pm and I tried. The idiots across the hall were up all night being loud, so I didn't get a good nights sleep, and work up with a sore neck. I was a bit unhappy this.

Me - in the morning.

Made it to the race area, and I staked out a sweet transition spot. Three rows in from the bike out, and at the end of the 2nd or 3rd rack. Sweet! No more looking for my bike, let's eat pizza. A bit of warming up, the pre race brief and we went racing!

So, here's how it all went down:

1st run: This was a small Du crowd. Maybe 30 of us if that? I saw one of my fellow AGers and made a mental judgement that he was going to be one of the people I aimed to keep in my sights. I positioned myself about mid-gaggle. At the gun/horn I kept myself midpack, keeping my target in sight. I made some passes and got zoomed a couple of times, I didn't sweat it. I just aimed at keeping in the mid pack area. The field started to spread out as the inital burst of speed wore off and everyone settled into their pace. Still had my target in eyesight. 

I see you...

Made a right turn, and found myself faced with a hill. My first thought was "Where in the hell did they find a hill in freaking New Jersey?!" 

But I leaned into it and powered up it, making a few passes. So far so good. I'm working hard, and my Garmin is showing that I'm running way quicker than Hammonton. I don't sweat it, I know I made gains, lets see what I gained. Around the turn and back down the course. I was starting to hurt a bit here, and I think my pace dropped. The rest of this run was me just keeping forward momentum, holding a steady pace and looking forward to T1. 

I'm Keith Effing Richards!

T1: Found my bike no problem. Off came the running shoes, on went the bike shoes, and then the brain bucket. Dashing out of T1 I went. MUCH quicker than last races T1 at something like :51 seconds.

Orale vato!

The Bike: I had been looking forward to this bike course because of it's signature feature: The Bridge. Before the bridge was a lot of nice flat country contested country roads. I made a bunch of passes, staying in aero and aimed to keep my cadence 80-85ish. A couple of sharp turns had us slowing down, especially after the local PD's warning about them. 

This was NOT what we wanted to happen

I felt pretty good, took on some water and kept spinning. I did notice I spun more this race than last race, I think. Finally on to the bridge. They had closed down one whole lane for us in both directions. Outbound we were in the right lane. The bridge has two hallmark features. Baby Hill and Momma Hill. Baby Hill wasn't a problem, I was able to stay in aero and get up it. Momma Hill, that's a different story. She is mean. About 3/4 of the way up it, I was in my granny gear spinning for all I was worth. This is also where I did puke a bit. 

I noticed my stomach was "sloshy" but ignored it. Kept hammering while I puked, grabbed some water and kept going. Coach did say it was ok to puke, just don't stop. Got some speed rolling off of Big Momma, tucked into aero and gave the legs a break by only pedaling occassionaly. Made the turn and headed back in, again to face Momma Hill. The second time she wasn't as bad, I was able to handle her easier. I think with out Baby Hill, things went better. Rolled off Big Momma again, grabbing some more speed that carried me over Baby Hill and into the turn back on the country roads.

Where I slammed on my breaks because that turn IS washed out and VERY bumpy. Got through that turn and even made a few passes. Kept heading back and I could feel my lower ribs aching and my legs letting me know I was crazy. I thought for sure I flamed out. I pushed the pain and the thought aways and kept going. 

In case you are wondering, there is NO shame in getting passed by a 72 year old on a TT. 

Did a flying dismount and into T2 I went.

T2: Quick bike rack, changed gear and took a second to grab a bit of water and dump it down my back. 

2nd Run: This is run and I are never going to be friends. I was hurting. My left calf was cramping, my hip flexor screaming at me. I just decided to out stubborn it, and kept running (no stopping!). Grabbed some water from a couple of the water stations. Made the turn, looked at the time and said "crap, I can be sub 1:30" so I kept going. After the 5k turn it was a long false flat, that turned into a nice down hill. I let gravity help me. Kept going and finding a bit of extra speed I think after the first half of the 5k. Made the turn into the park and once I saw the finish line, emptied out the tank.

Official Race Time: 1:25:12. 11 minutes off Hammonton. No hardware, but  progress is more important. 

Over all, I'm VERY happy with this race. I hope the gains keep coming.

It's a head game of me vs me.

"It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy

'Cause every now and then, I kick the living shit out of me"

Lit - "Own Worst Enemy"

If you've been around for a while, you'll notice that most of my posts start with some lyrics. Today, I'd like to blather on specifically about the lyrics above.

One of my oldest friends for years said that this was my theme song. And it was true. I was my own worst enemy. I would constantly sabotage myself. For most of my life, I never thought I was good enough, smart enough, attractive enough. blah blah blah, you get the gist.

A fairly good description of my life before

Since I've started training in earnest, something interesting has happened. I'm might not be as smart as some, or as good looking as others. There isn't a damn thing wrong with that. Every day, I'm out there doing the work to get better at my sport. I don't skip workouts. I try to put my all into ever interval, mile, set and session. Sure I might still have some extra insulation from winter around my middle. I might not have Macca's confidence, Pott's speed, or Wurtle's awesome race reports. But I have something just as important. For the first time in ever, I believe in me.

In the past, had someone mocked my efforts at something, no matter how friendly, I would have just smiled along and laughed. Not so anymore. Now if a smart ass comment is made, my first response is: "Screw you pal. I don't see you out here doing the work day after day. You wanna mock? Get your ass out here with me. Until then STFU and go eat another freakin donut."

Truth be told... who doesn't like sprinkles?

I get defensive over this. I'm big enough to admit it. Some might say "it's just a sport, a thing you do for fun." Wrong answer. This is more than just a sport. It's my lifestyle. This sport in just the first few months has gotten me through some incredibly rough times, and good times. No matter what has gone right or wrong in my life, it's still there, waiting for me to participate in it. Not just the races, but the days of working out for the races. The long endurance rides/runs, the intervals, the speed work. The throbbing in my core when I'm pushing so hard that it feels like I'm on the edge of losing it. It's always there. 

I'm no longer my own worst enemy. I'm not working against myself. I'm not setting myself up to fail any more. 

I'm a friend to me now. I believe in myself. And that, dear friends, is the greatest gift this sport has given me. And no one can ever take that away from me.

Random Catch Up

I used to roll the dice

Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes

Coldplay - "Viva La Vida"

So much has been going on it seems lately, I've been lacking in keeping up with my weekly babbling here. So let's catch up. In our last episode, I had just riden the Manayunk Wall and survived. I thought life was pretty damn sweet at that point.

A few days later, I woke up to find an email awaiting my greedy little eyes. I think I must have read it 5 or 500 times before I realized that: A) I read it correctly and B) It wasn't a joke. What was this email you might ask? I was informed by USAT that I had qualified for this:

To quote Coach: "Hellz Yeah!"

Holy. Crap. I did WHAT?! Coach and I shot back a flurry of emails and decided to scrub my fall Sprint Triathlon and do this instead. Then the next question, Long or Short (That's what she said?)? Coach said she was on the fence and asked what I thought. I'm not one to dream small. I said "Let's go big, or go home!" So the long course it is! I'm really stoked about this course and it's in Tucson. I think my August race will be a great preview of it for me, since it is longer than Nationals 5k run, 35k bike, 5k run.

The above dovetails into my latest gear purchase, which you know happens almost weekly. This time, I  decided to go for finishing up my major bike upgrades. So, I present to you a road bike ready for Tri/Du's:

Sexy ain't it?

What did I do right after I got these installed? Why bike interval work of course! With the addition of the aero's and the refitting, I'm definitely in a different geometry on my bike. I'm able to generate more speed/power than before with less effort. This does NOT suck. So far, last week was full of win!

Make it so!

Friday called for rain, thank you tropical storm what's her name. So, on the way home, I got a nifty Cycle-Ops Mag trainer to so my bike work on. Holy Crap. Let me tell you right now, trainer rides are hard. There is none of this coasting for free energy. There are no down hills. No curves to slow down around. It's pure man vs machine for about 75 minutes of sprint interval work. This was awesome (related: I've been told my definition of the word awesome might scare some people).

The next day, I went out for a 90 minute ride. Something was wrong with my back tire. Then, I heard it. A high pitched sound. Next thing I know... POW! The back tire blew. Luckily I had a spare tube and plenty of CO2 with me. Off came the tire, and I got to work. In fairly short time, I got the new tube on and was off and going again. Maybe a half mile later, I almost wiped out making a small adjustment turn. WTF? I pull over to check my bike. My front was slowly leaking. 

Not. One. Bit.

The roomie was with me, so he rode back to the house to fetch the car. The next day, I got more tubes and fixed the flat. After washing the bike I headed out for my hour ride. But my bike, she was not happy. She kept trying to tell me something was wrong. Gears shifting on their own, the balance super wobbly, just flat out refusing to go fast.

Still. Not. Amused.

So yesterday, I took her to get checked out. The awesome wrenches at D and Q adjusted the cables, breaks, and found I had put my front wheel on just every so slightly not all the way in. This caused the wobbliness. WHEW!

And to end it all on a good note, I got my Team TRIumph race top in.

Legit?

So now dear friends... I'm a week and change out from my next race. Stay tuned as the Taper Crazies beset me again!

I hit The Wall, and it hit back!

Today, I climbed The Wall. Which is different that what I normally do, drive people up a wall. For those of you who don't know what The Wall is, let me explain.

The Wall is a half mile of pure lung burning, leg killing, test what you're made of, 17% grade, hill climbing. I really don't think I'm over playing this. The Wall is THE defining feature of the Philly Cycling Classic Race. If the Pro's respect it, you're damn straight I'm going to be in awe of it.

So with out further ado, and with no further gilding the lily, I present you with my Not A Race Report Ride Report of the Philly Cycling Classic Bicycling Open. In which me and 300 of my closest lycra clad friends got the chance to ride the Philly Cycling Classic professional course. The course was complete with a pace car (which we were not allowed to pass, not that I ever saw it), blocked off streets (thank you Philly PD for being so awesome and friendly today!), cheering fans and of course plenty of cow bell.

You knew this was coming, right?

I had opted to pick up my "race" packet the day of the ride. Normally, I like to get it ahead of time, but Saturday was just to busy with work, my scheduled work out, getting a new tattoo, and the most important part of my life these days: Eating. So it was a 4 am wake up for me, to get ready and be out the door by 5:15. I thought it would take about 45 minutes to get from where I live to Manayunk, going by the tried and true Philly Rule: 45 Minutes to Everywhere. But with no traffic, I arrived at about 5:45 or so. Plenty of time to unload the bike, do a last minute check, and get into my shoes. Getting there early paid off as the line got big quickly.

Colorful jerseys and bikes. I love cycling.

There were three packages available to register for: The Pack, The Chase and The Breakaway. I opted for the Breakaway package, in which I got a swag bag, T-shirt  cycling jersey, a food certificate for a local eatery and access to prime seating to watch the races after I was done.

Pros were mere inches from me.

We had a different start finish line than the pros, which made sense. If you didn't make it back to the start finish before the cut off, you weren't allowed to attempt a second lap. As the time to start got closer, we all queued up at the start/finish line to start our attack on The Wall.

The Pelaton/Bunch/Gaggle

After the National Anthem, which I thought was a really class move by the organizers, we were off! The start was oh so very slow. No dashing that I saw. Just us more meandering across the start line, out of the parking lot on the street. Which made for some VERY chaotic riding. There was a lot of weaving and dodging and keeping your head on a swivel as we made our decent onto Main St. in Manayunk. Of course I grabbed some tall gears, grabbed my horns and went for the speed. I can't help it, I love going fast. After about a mile of fairly straight roads, there was a couple of quick turns to the left and a bit of cobblestone road under a train bridge. This was the landmark I had been looking for. The Wall loomed infront of me.

The Wall on a normal day.

As I started my climb, I started dropping gears. My plan for The Wall was simple. I was going to just spin my easiest gear up it and hope for the best. There is NO shame in using the granny gear today. The sound I heard around me as I was changing gears gave proof that I had the right idea. The chorus of bikes dropping gears was a rising crescendo. A fellow next to me heard me drop a gear and commented: "Oh yeah, there's that sound!"

I got about about 75 maybe 90 meters into the wall, when I tried to go into my easiest gear. Noticed I said "tried." I was already there. I was out of gears already. An F-bomb may or may not have been uttered here. 

These signs should have been on The Wall today.

Some how, I made it up the first half of The Wall to a small little flat portion. Then the really steep part started. Holy. Shit. As I looked up at this monster in front of me, I might have whimpered a tiny bit. Actually I know I did. But, I wasn't going to throw in the towel yet! Onward up The Wall I went!

I stood up and hammered. I sat back and spun, I weaved a bit, I zigged and I zagged avoiding other riders. The burning in my legs was unheard of. I was panting harder than a 200 pound bulldog in the August heat. Cowbells rung, people cheered us on, screaming at us to dig deep, go hard, don't quit. Chains broke, tires flatted, riders gave in and walked their bike up the wall. Still I pressed on. At the 100 meter sign, I stood up and hammered hard again, muttering at my legs to shut the hell up and go. People cheered harder as I stood up and hammered. Onward I went. The pain must have been etched on my face, the suffering was unreal. Up, Up and Up I went. Legs screaming, heart thudding, lungs burning like the air was molten lava, still I would NOT let The Wall beat me. I was tougher and more stubborn than it! 

Then I looked up. I saw the Official Start Finish line. 

Victory was mine!

Not just content to have climbed the wall, I grabbed a few gears and start down the above stretch into a sharp right hand turn.

Only to find another hill.

Crap. 

I got mad. How DARE they put another hill right here after that unreal monster?! Who was the sadistic bastard who designed this course! I stood out of my saddle and hammered up. 

Then, the Cycling Gods smiled upon me. I started the Fall From The Wall. A pure mile of straight down hill. I pimped the hell out of that big ring, grabbed the biggest gear I could and hauled ass down. I joined up on someone else's wheel and off we went! 

This was the most exciting ride of my life! We were low on the handle bars mashing for all where were worth. All of a sudden, we couldn't pedal fast enough to add anything to our speed. The lead went off his saddle and tucked behind it in an aero form. I followed suite. We were zipping down, passing riders. Cheers a fading blur as we flew down topping out at a screaming 36.7 mph. Screaming for me at any rate. At the end of The Fall, there was a right hand turn. We saw it coming up, and saved our braking until the last possible moment. I think my brakes literally smoked as I applied them. Through the turns we went and off to the rest of the course. 

The rest of the course fairly straight and flat. Except for two exceptions. Strawberry Hill and Lemon Hill. I'll be honest, I don't remember much of Strawberry Hill, so I couldn't have suffered to much on it. After that, I fell in with a couple of guys who let me ride their back wheel for a bit. This was awesome, it gave my legs a chance to recover. I offered to pull them for a bit, being the polite cyclist I am. I took the lead and set the pace, around a turn I went!

Who the Hell put Lemon Hill here?!

I literally yelled that, to the amusement of my riding group and the Philly PD who were there. 

Crap. Back down into the small ring and time to spin up. I didn't look back for the guys I was pulling until after I rage spun up the hill. I hate hills. I love hills. I hate and love them. The descent off Lemon Hill is short and at the end is a 90 degree right hand turn onto the straightaway that would lead me for about 3-4 miles back to my finish line. And of course, guess who came into that turn hot? Thank God it was a two lane road as I apexed the corner and shot out into the left hand lane. 

Time to grab more gears! I spun for all I was worth. Pushing the hard, wanting to go fast. Sweat was dripping and being blown off me. I was on my horns generating 1.21 Gigawatts of power (had I hit 88 mph, I would have gone Back...To The Future!). Ok maybe not that much power. I was working hard though. I was starting to tire out. I pulled to the right to let others pass me by.

So it seems I was pulling a whole pace line of about 15 people. That's right. You heard me. I pulled them for about a mile or so. Bad Assery. Rawr!

I was so happy to jump on the last wheel and benefit from the slip stream. The pace line held until the last mile or so from the finish line, then it was every man for himself. I broke left and pulled up next to the guy who I was drafting and told him to jump on my wheel. I grabbed a few gears, stood up for a minute and shot off after the pace line leader.

Just call me the Big Ring Pimp Daddy. 

In the end, I didn't catch him, but it didn't matter. 

We came flying into the finish line, sweat pouring from us all. as we crossed the timing mats, we pulled off to the side and pulled deeply from our water bottles. Handshakes were given and received, names exchanged and "Good Job" "Awesome Ride" "Way to work" were the popular phrases.

At the end of the circuit, I had conquered the wall, gone faster than I ever had before, and proved to myself that maybe, just maybe, these old legs of mine have some life in them yet.

Next year, I'm aiming for two laps.