The rain let up just in time for my 4:14pm roll out from the TT starting blocks yesterday. Ok, there weren't exactly any real starting blocks.. actually, come to think of it, there wasn't even a line painted to start behind. The first five miles of the 10 out-and-back was mega fast. I topped out at 37mph without any real descents. At the turn-around point the wind came on as a direct headwind. I'm grateful that Britton let me borrow his Lazer TT helmet; that combined with booties, a skin suit, and TT bars made the return trip do-able. I haven't done many individual time trials, so the whole thing was a good learning experience. Without a dedicated TT rig, your johnson always shrinks a tad to see some guys on their speed machines with aero spokes and disc wheels. All-in-all I'd say an 8th place finish was ok. I think I was a minute and a half down on first, while averaging 26mph overall. Those other dudes were flying.
Rain has been haunting the mid-west the last couple of days. Today we would have much the same luck as yesterday, with only a small portion of the course seeing precipitation. From the outset I knew today's race would be a slamma jamma. Steve Tilford and a few of his Tradewind teammates showed up and a number of Texas Roadhouse pros were racing. A real strong Mercy/Specialized squad rounded out the big guns. This would be my first pro 1/2 race. Let me stress that there is a difference between pro 1/2 and elite 1/2. It has do do with the word PRO. P. R. O. For an amateur, that spells,"hold on to your nuts."
From the gun a Mercy/Specialized dude took a flyer. We kind of just watched him ride away, and the whole time I was thinking, "should I try to bridge to that guy? It's 65 miles to the finish and we're only going 18mph... ah... umm... eee... ahh..." Taking a minute to think about it, I decided there were way too many big guns in the peloton to let one dude ride away with the race. That turned out to be the correct assumption. After lap 1 the pace got all sorts of hot and heavy. Typically the flow of the race went something like this: one guy would attack, those on the front would watch him open a gap, someone would attempt to bridge to him, and the rest of the peloton would come along in tow. Those kinds of manoeuvres continued for the next couple of laps, each time the severity of the gap and those represented would increase. Laps 2 through 4 I spent a decent amount of time bridging gaps. I felt I had to. If a move went up the road, and there was decent representation in it, most the teams weren't motivated to bridge their own break. In those cases off I'd go, head down, sprinting like my life depended on it. When the pack thought too many riders were headed up the road they'd mobilize to chase; every time I went I'd glance back to see the peloton snaking not far behind. "At least I get to sit in a bit before the next attack," I told myself. Near the end of lap 4 the ante got upped. A move went, bridgers pursued, but instead of working to the break, attackers sprung from the bridging effort. If you want to know what war feels like, that might be a proper comparison. Dudes are flying by you right and left as you're dodging others, you're catching wheels, and trying to bridge to stronger ones, you sit, then sprint, sit, then sprint. Your legs scream, cry, beg, and sooner or later you realize they're not saying anything anymore; they just won't comply. Your legs have nothing left. At that moment, the break is only 100 feet up the road and you have to watch them ride away; they might as well be 100 miles away. That's how you miss the final move and finish 22nd.
Note to self: Do more one-minute, descending, and power intervals are to increase top speed and recovery. Find good sources of protein.
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