Facet One: It's All in the Timing

I used to think bicycle racing was about going fast; more specifically, how fast I could get my top end speed. The idea was that if I could get my fastest high enough, I'd win races. It was a shot in the right direction, but a bit off the mark. It's good to be able to go fast, but if one guy has your wheel and comes around you, your best will only be worth second place. Not to mention, if that guy has a guy who's got a wheel. Your marvelous top end speed turns into a great leadout for the paceline behind you, catching a draft to the finish line. No, I didn't know the first thing about racing, and that was ok. I hadn't raced. I knew a thing or two about base fitness, it helped propel me to a little success in my first few races. There I could go fast, and that was just enough to win. Not anymore. I have been the pace car for one too many leadout trains, for different teams that is. I was a non-racer trying my best to understand the sport.

I feel sorry for people who don't race, let alone ride, that try to comprehend the whole of bicycle racing. From time to time the spectator will catch a glimpse of a single facet, it will flicker, a bulb will light up, and it will pass. The whole of the gem will continue to rotate and those unknown facets will be beautiful indeed, but not illuminating. Anyone can admire the beauty of someone doing something great, it is unmistakeably exciting, much the same as a diamond is undeniably beautiful. The bicycle racer's ultimate quest is to step from the roadside to discover all of the facets of his sport, to cease to admire and begin to understand.

Saturday's Spring Fling Criterium saw the moment when I caught a glimpse of a facet. The moment when I realized that my top speed wouldn't bring home the win. Simply put, it's all in the timing. You won't get to where you're going until you're ready and only your honest effort will turn the pedal stroke. Go hard, go fast, slow down, take a rest.