Road racing, California style.

It all starts early in the wee hours of the morning. Aging baby boomers and their teenage offspring load their SUV's and vans with $6,000 bicycles, $2,000 spare wheels, trainers, rollers, floor pumps, and various day-camping gear. It is cold before sunrise in California so they bring extra clothing, jackets, arm and leg warmers. They bring coolers with food and water because where they are headed there is nothing to be found. Then before the sun comes up they settle for a 120 mile drive into nowhere land.

Soon they are in the middle of the Central Valley with little or no traffic. This is the weekend after all and nobody, except a few stray Mexican farm workers and a couple of forlorn truckers are on the road at this time. Bits of fog and low clouds obstruct the view, creating an eerie atmosphere. But the cyclists are not to be deterred. A few hundred of them gather from all over and converge on tiny roadways that are absent from most maps. Although their oversized vehicles are equipped with the latest GPS and iPhone technology, soon they will lose coverage and the gadgets will be useless.

Not to worry though. They make this pilgrimage year after year, always heading to same place. Only a few newcomers are added as time go by. But by and large this is a procession of veterans who have been performing this ritual for the past 20 years.

When they reach the foothills on the other side of the Valley, the sun is just cresting the hilltops. And then, as if by magic they stop by the side of the road. There are no signs of civilization here and if you did not know, you might wonder how they know this is their destination.

And they're off

Other than an few farmhouses and barns in the distance there are only cows and crops. For those arriving later, there will be a small square tent and few orange cones. Maybe even a sign on the corner warning motorists that a special event is underway. The motorists here are farmers driving farm equipment and they do not care much for cyclists or their signage. If you are not careful you might get hurt.

Covered in many layers and wrapped in blankets the cyclists pull out their licenses and head over to the tent, where two elderly frozen officials await them. There is coffee and donuts but these are only for the workers and volunteers. Cyclists bring their own breakfast. There are no signs of festivities and no music. No spectators gather and none are expected. The only people who will watch the race -or part of the race- are those who came along with the cyclists or the race organizer.

Now is the time to fill out the obligatory disclaimers and waivers and to pick up a race number. Then quickly get over to the car and pull out the gear and the trainers, get dressed, and start warming up.

As early as 7:30 AM a small group of twenty racers line up by the roadway behind an old truck. In all likelihood these are the pro-1-2 racers. One or two pro racers and a number of Category 1 and Category 2 racers make up the field. Most are masters and well into their forties. Some are even older but today they feel good and so they will skip their own category and race pro. A few juniors have also decided to join in. Someone is called over to check their gearing.

If all goes well and the two highway patrol (or local sheriff's department) officials show up, we will start on time. If not, everyone will just sit around until law enforcement gets there. The cops will likely position themselves at one of the intersections but when they get bored they will drive the course and leave the intersection to the volunteers.

An official wearing a black and white striped prison suit awaits on his motorcycle. After a brief speech and a few miscellaneous instructions, they are off. Since this is the pro field, they will have one follow vehicle with some spare wheels.

Before the first group disappears over the ridge another smaller group is getting ready for their race. Another official pulls up. A few people go looking for a volunteer to drive a follow vehicle. Maybe they will be lucky, maybe not. If nobody is available the racers will have to solve their own problems.

Sometimes the group that forms is too small even by US standards. Then the organizers will put them together with a larger group. Sometimes there aren't enough officials so one group will be sent off without officials.

The ritual is repeated eight or ten times and then all is quiet again. The racers are off, and the few spectators left behind go back to the warmth of their cars and trucks. A few hardy ones pull out foldable chairs and sit by the roadway. Another tent is erected at the finish line, which may or may not be in the same spot. There fifteen odd people will wait for their racer to finish. A few others will drive out to the feed zone with bottles to hand to the cyclists.

Spectators at the finish line

Half an hour later the first group comes through and start their second lap. Most likely -but not always- these are the pros since they can be expected to go faster. But with the later groups all bets are off. The women were likely passed on the backstretch and now people have to check the schedule to see who will be coming next.

It gets even more confusing because some dropped riders will inevitably hitch a ride with a slower pack. That is against the rules, and if they care, they may hold back a bit -or speed up a bit- while passing the officials in the tent. But as soon as that is taken care of, they quickly regroup with their new pack to start drafting again.

Feed zone pack 1, pack 2 is following close behind

This scene will repeat itself two or three times, getting more and more confusing as time goes on. Packs are now split and dropped riders are all over the road. Faster groups have caught and passed slower ones, and the order is messed up too. If all goes well, these events happen out on the course. If not, a faster pack that is about to finish may run into a slower pack that has a few more laps to go, thereby wrecking everyone's sprint.

Either way the results will be wrong. Both the officials and the spectators are now thoroughly confused. Lapped riders who stay on course may well be counted in the pack, and solo breakaways may well be mistaken for dropped riders. The winner could end up last and the dropped rider may well "finish" in the top 10.

As one group after another rolls in, the finish line area clogs up with riders standing around and chatting with their friends. Officials and organizers will now try -often in vain- to clear the road. Most likely the pro pack will still have a few extra laps, but when they come through they may well find themselves bumping into parked riders. If two packs happen to arrive at the same time, the scene becomes as confusing as a shopping mall on black friday.

Soon enough the first riders will start packing up and heading home. The leaving cars will only add further obstructions and more confusion, but most people hate to hang around and watch the race. Why would they? There is a long road ahead, and traffic has picked up significantly by now. They'd be lucky if they get home by 5PM. But not to worry, they'll do it again next year.

Gold Nugget

On Wednesday I rode 62.5 miles. It felt pretty good. Then on Thursday I ran 1 hr on the treadmill and I was able to cover 8.4 miles, a new PR for indoor running.

On Friday, I picked up Alistair from his USA cycling camp at St. Mary's and we drove to Hornitos for the Gold Nugget Stage Race. The first stage was a 9 mile uphill time trial starting at 5PM. We arrived early in the "little ovens" and I rode for about an hour on Alistair's bike. It was 100F out. Then he got ready and I drove behind the 15-16 group to the end of the stage. Alistair finished second that day. Only two survived the fast tempo to the top.

On Saturday, there was a road race in the morning, and I rode 3 laps of 5 miles after Alistair finished. It had some climbing in it but overall the course was pretty nice and not too difficult, with some shade to boot. I rode a bit more over lunch and then we got ready for the 3PM time trial. Alistair was second in both races and by the end of the day, he led the GC by 10 seconds.

On the way from Coulterville to Mariposa, we blew out a tire on the car and that added some extra spice to our trip. When we got to Mariposa, Alistair was exhausted and he quickly fell asleep while I did some more riding before dinner.

On Sunday there was another road race and I had planned to leave right after so I did not take any cycling gear to the start. When I got there however, other parents were going on a ride and one of them offered me his bike. I also got some shoes (a size too small) and a helmet (also too small) and I borrowed a jersey from Alistair and rode in my regular shorts. We rode 2 loops of 12 miles each (the race was three) in the opposite direction and watched the riders. We got back in time to watch the finish. Alistair won the stage and the GC.

After the race we had to leave early to check out. Then we drove home and by 3:30 we were back but pretty tired. I decided to rest for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

Today I swam for about one hour. I tried to work on my technique and (once again) tried to breathe on my left. I probably swam a little over a mile doing so, but made very little progress. It feels really weird to breathe on that side and I can never seem to get enough air that way. Lake Placid is near, we will see how it goes. I should be tapering now, but I feel I have not done enough hard stuff to prepare properly.

Eating and racing

Today is a rainy day. Totally overcast here in the hills with on and off showers. Good day to ride rollers. I rode for 90 minutes, more or less even with some moderate efforts, keeping my heart rate below 165 all the time. My average power was slightly over 200 with an NP of 220. I burned 1,221 calories doing this, which once again shows that the stationary bikes at the club are overly optimistic when it comes to calories.

Many people are confused about eating before a race. Personally I have gone back and forth on this but now I feel that eating -and drinking- less is probably best. Unless you are competing in stage race or multi-day event. It is also best to eat at least 2 hours before the race and if you can't do that, just skip breakfast altogether and eat a candy bar.

For marathons, don't eat much at all. Especially when the race starts early in the morning. Races like Boston, that start later give you time to eat a normal breakfast and have most of it cleared by the time the race starts. I found that the less I eat the better. I also found that I need to cut back on coffee or tea, because otherwise I get too wired and start out too fast. I make sure not to drink too  much before the race, and not to drink at all during the first 10 miles. That avoids potty breaks, sloshing liquids and other stomach trouble. 

For a 50+ mile road race on the bike, I tend to eat normally. Since most races start around 10 AM, I eat a normal breakfast of two slices of toast with peanut butter and jelly, coffee, and some banana. On the bike things are easy and if you get hungry or feel sluggish you just eat a candy bar (I prefer Clif) or pop a few gels.

For Ironman I eat early, around 4:30-5:00 AM for a 7:00 AM start. Normally I eat a bagel, some banana and a candy bar, with some coffee and juice. I try not to eat too much beforehand. I may consume a gel half an hour before the swim start, or munch on some candy bars, but overall I try to keep things light. Experience has shown that this works best, by far.

I also found that the better prepared you are, the less you need to eat or drink. I also recommend that you avoid eating big dinners the night before. Especially so-called carbo-loading dinners. These events do no such thing and are usually just an excuse to overeat and binge.

Road racing

I started road racing again this season, mostly because my son is doing it and I hate to stand around for two hours waiting for him to finish. So I got myself a license and started riding. It has been over 15 years since I last raced competitively. It is quite an adjustment believe me. Although I have been cycling quite a bit for the past five years, the cycling I do is mostly triathlon-type time trial stuff.

Road races are not that way at all. No steady hard pace here. No slow warmup. Instead we go hard from the start and don't let up until we hit the middle. Then after a short breather, it starts all over again. At least that has been my experience so far. Since I am not well trained for these sudden accelerations and all that anaerobic stuff, -especially not when it comes at the beginning-, it took me a while to get the hang of it again.

I have been riding twilights with the San Jose bike club since the middle of summer, and apart from being unprepared for jumps, my rusty technique in the turns also showed. I was never one for crits and other technical riding and so I spent the first couple of twilights chasing the pack after every tight turn. That too has gotten better, much better. 

After a couple of races where I did so-so, I finally managed to stay with the pack for the entire race at Dunnigan Hills last Sunday. I raced masters 45+ open and, although I had some trouble initially, I was in the lead group riding a comfortable pace. And then, when everything was looking up, I had a flat. Four miles from the finish in a tailwind section, just as the pack eased up again, I had to stop. No support car in sight, so I started replacing the tube myself.

When I was about half way through, a car showed up and surprise, surprise, they had a Campy 10 speed wheel for me. I gave them my wheel, with the new tube hanging out, and took off. Even though the section had a nice tailwind and I rode my heart out, it had been too long of a wait. While I did manage to hold off the stragglers, but I never got back to the pack. Nevertheless, it felt good and I thoroughly enjoyed the race.

Another new adventure.