The First Race of 2009: Wolfpack RR

None of this training race garbage. Tradezone and training crits are for sissies. I like to start out my racing season with the longest Cat 4 race of the year, the Wolpack Road Race in Sanford, NC hosted by NC State Cycling.

Who doesn't want to get the hardest race out of the way early on anyways? 54 miles in mid-February, bring it.

After all of the nerves and queasy feelings, I gotta say that once I started warming up on the bike, I felt much better. Aside from an exploding tube on some dude's bike at the start line, it was a boring round up. Off we went for a long haul. Perfect weather in the mid-50s and bright sun made for a great day to ride.

Being such a long race, I think a lot of folks in the field were anxious about warming up too much or going too fast too soon. That worked out great for me, who skimped out on a thorough warmup (none of this TT or crit warmup stuff). It took about half of the first lap (each lap was 18 miles long) for the pace to be recognized as anything competitive. I was in horrible position for the better part of that first lap, as guys were 3/4 wide and nobody seemed to be moving anywhere. If anything, the slow speeds were the biggest problem for safety. The word of the day in the Cat 4 peloton was "SLOWING!"

Guys were just not pedaling down hills or even on the latter half of rollers. Literally, my hands now hurt from the death grip I was forced to have on the hoods because of the decelerations. Luckily, things got better as the race went on.

If the first lap was that of slowing, the second was social hour. The pace was fairly quick and consistent, and I was comfortable all around. After the main turn by the staging area, which we were screaming through, I was able to get my butt into better position into the top dozen or so guys of the big field.

It just so happens that I sat on one guy's wheel for just about the entire second lap, so I didn't see much. I picked the perfect wheel, a dude the size of the jolly green giant that rode just like my pal drew. I was just comfortable there and knew that while I was inhis draft, near the front, I was doing very little work compared to mostguys and felt pretty safe.

On the last hill of the second lap, my big draft got too close to the front, in the wind, and took off. That ended social hour.

I didn't have to try very hard to stay in his draft after the hill but it woke everyone up. EVERYONE. A few miles later, like it was a prime lap, we went raging through the finish area at full gas ("balledak!) an into the scary downhill to uphill turn at a stupid click. It was fun, but dumb because the feed was coming up. I had brought an extra bottle in my jersey so I wouldn't have to hope for the feed, and I'm glad. With about 8 guys in front of me, we all bolted through the feed zone, up hill, out of the saddle. I gotta give mad props to my teammate Brad for hitting his feed bottle without a hesitation, at full speed. When he grabbed it, drink stuff exploded out of the cap everywhere but who cares? Sick move.

The third lap was actually somewhat like a race, at least it started and ended that way. We were hauling for a long while, a few solo attacks being chased down with ease. About halfway through that final, third lap a fee crazy things happened.

A) My teammate Brad attacked in a major lull. I tried to ruin the rotations that reacted to him, but after what I'm sure was a painful few minutes for him, he got reeled in. Probably the longest attack by anyone in our race, but still didn't get very far. Nobody got a chance although many tried and even I tried to follow a few surges. Everyone was waiting. Nothing stuck. Luckily for Brad who hung himself out to dry, though...

B) We caught up with the Master's Open race who had started a few minutes before us. What?!?! Cat 4s were catching up to the veterans in the open category? Woah. This is without saying that our pace was nothing to brag about. (Turns out two guys got away in that race and were never seen again, so they all gave up.) Anyways, the refs neutralized our race so we wouldn't barge into them, so things were calm with 10 miles to go. Breaktime. Then they neutralized the masters and we were given the green light to race. We zipped by smiling. Ha.

C) Last thing: I noticed my bottles going dry. Uh oh. Three bottles were all gone. Luckily I had managed them well and hamster-fed myself a bunch of clif bloks throughout the race by stuffing an entire packet in my mouth whenever I had the chance.

On the second to last hill, folks went ballistic. It was still a huge group, probably over half the field, and everyone knew their chances were slim. People rocketed up that steep kicker, but to no avail. I was up front hoping for a small break but nothing got space or stuck.

Then IT ended for me. My right hamstring was starting to cramp up so on every slight downhill or coast I would try to stretch it. F@&$! With 3 miles to go, I knew I had little chance. But I was in great position and was managing the legs ok.

This race was filled with pairs of guys from tons of teams, many from DC and most from the Southeast: us guys on NCVC, HPC-List, Rogues, CycleSafe, et al. I don't think any team had more than a pair of folks, which contributed to things sticking together, and probably the funnest and fastest few miles I've eve ridden.

With just a few miles to go, an HPC guy tore it up at the front and we were cruising. I had great positioning near the front on the left going up the last hill, sweet. Things got crowded really quickly and I had no clue where my one teammate was. With cramping legs I managed to put myself in third wheel of the main group, but three guys had gotten away with a few hundred meters to go.

Nobody was chasing, or maybe they just weren't chasing fast enough. I did. I basically burnt my last matches trying to bridge up to the three guys. Not to my liking, I ended up dragging the entire field behind me up to and past these folks right as the road opened to two lanes for the sprint. I got swarmed into the colorful cloud of the peloton, obviously, but my redemption came when I saw Brad come out of nowhere like a rabid banshee, weaving through like nine guys and throw his bike on the line. Holy crap, where was he?!?!

So I finished my longest road race mid-pack, in 25th place, content with how I raced the whole time and at least I could convince myself that maybe if I hadn't caught that break, Brad (and the field) wouldn't have either. Who knows. Overall, this was a great and fun race, and luckily safe too, sparing the absurd braking.

Last year, racing the cat 5, I felt like death for the better part of the race even though it was 18 miles shorter. This year I made it a small goal just to eat and drink smart, and race a smart race too. (Not to mention I actually rode my bike this winter.) I didn't race very aggressively, but I can live with that this time around. It's only February. For only my second Cat 4 race and my longest race yet, I felt great; the speeds and surges never took me by surprise or hurt too good until I chose to burn my last match.

After a trip to Germany and fighting a cold and sinus infection, I'm gonna sleep well tonight with no regrets. The first race in months is always the hardest to stomach for me and luckily I will be off the bike and onto the skis at Vail next week. That will be a great trip with my usual riding pal, D-Wis.

A few other thoughts:

- There was a tiny junior in my race. He must have been under 5 feet tall and it was impossible to draft off of him, even for me. But that kid could roll and he was probably 13. Kudos and prime cookies to him.

- A Lees Mcrae dude in my race was on a bike that didn't have tubes, but the frame was one huge metal fairing. Put it this way, it looked like an oven door on wheels. Solid metal sheeting on the side. I'd never seen this before and was surprised it was UCI legal. If anyone else saw it, post a link of that freak show bike.

- My friend Mike Brindza from UMD got attacked by a hawk in the middle of the Collegiate C race. Ha. It's just plain hysterical so I had to share. After the race he was running around asking evryone "Is my face okay?!" Classic.

I'm the last one awake in the hotel room, so I should crash. (Now I can use the word "crash" because I'm not racing tomorrow.) After waiting all day after watching Catherine's race (hey, it is valentines) and such a long race myself, I don't feel the need to wait 'til the late afternoon for a crit. After the collegiate races, we're headed home.

If you haven't raced down here before, I love this course and NCSU puts on great races (subtract the @$$-early start times for some folks). And where else do you get 18 mile laps?

Thanks for reading, and keep things rubber-side-down.