The Pur Tour marks the winding down of the local racing season and in the heat of the summer, it’s always scorcher. With little to no warm-up area and a crab grass-dust bowl parking lot, it resembles what I imagine a circuit race in Saudi Arabia might look like (imagine Yakima mounted Camels). Shelter tents and umbrellas were prevalent and a vital component to pre and post race staging.
Shannon, Brown and I arrived with about an hour before the 3 race. Alex arrived shortly after, along with Chip, who came to cheer us all on. I managed a brief but adequate warm-up before lining up with about 30 others. The wind speeds were worth noting; a headwind at the finish, a strong tail wind from the North, pushing a fast pace down the back side of the course (reaching max speeds around 40 mph) and a stout cross wind that became a headwind as the course looped around to the hill and back to the finish line.
I thought I was ready for this race but as a newbie to CAT 3 races, I keep forgetting to take into account all the breakaway attempts and attacks. It really does change the whole dynamic of the race and it is contrary to what I’ve grown accustomed to. I think I need to tape a Post-It Note on my stem as a reminder; “someone’s going to attack” or maybe something like “attack early and attack often” or “be ready for a breakaway” or perhaps, ”suffer chasing or suffer breaking.”
Anyway, that about summed up the race for me. I was either in an ill-fated breakaway or chasing one…mostly chasing, unfortunately. We averaged 26 for the first couple of laps and the group stayed together. Around lap 3, Ryan Good was anxious to get a break started and being on the front when he attacked, I unexpectedly found myself in a break with him. For some reason, I remembered that old reality show, “You are the weakest link.” The break was short lived we were pulled back in. I was able to integrate back into the pack (surprisingly) without feeling totally spent. Despite the quick recovery, I was not feeling the same pop and zest in the legs that I did a few short weeks ago.
Shortly after the first break was reeled in, a second break of about 3 to 4 men escaped. I was in no shape to respond and I appeared to be in good company, as no one around me seemed capable of giving chase. As a result, the break slowly made time on the field and at one point was about 15 seconds in front and still well within striking range…that was the case until our pace suddenly became dangerously slow.
No one wanted to work to pull it in. There was the usually barking from the men in the rear about not chasing or whatever, but of course they wanted nothing to do with the work required to do so at the front. I suggested taking turns, pulling through at a decent pace in order to close the gap. I honestly don’t remember what was said next, but a Louisville guy told me to go…so what was a horse to do? I knew I’d never be able to bridge on my own but that maybe an attack might result in the rest of the field in chasing me (thus closing in the break). Well, I went as hard as I could for about 15 to 30 seconds and another rider went with me. I did not look back but I could sense that I had decent gap on the field but I was smack dab in the middle of no-mans-land. The plan sort-of-worked: the field reacted to my actions and caught us and the speed continued to stay brisk; thus putting some time on the break. When we came around the hill again, we could see the break. They were so stinking close. Only a few more collective efforts were required and we would have had them. The break dangled precariously out in front of us like that for the next several laps. Dayton had the largest numbers but from my point of view, were not able to orchestrate a solid effort. They were however able to bridge close enough to put a man in the break, which I suppose is worth applauding.
Once Team Dayton had secured its slot in the break, it seemed one of three things was transpiring back in the chase group…men were either dropping out, chasing, or bridging solo to the break. These solo bridges usually occurred on the hill and their efforts seemed Herculean.
I think all but two Team Dayton riders dropped out by this point (the remaining Dayton racer in the chase group was actually taking turns on the front, drilling it). A racer from Olympus Homes reminded him that he had a man in the break, but it didn’t seem to phase him (great team work).
By this point, the break consisted of seven men, all deservingly reaching the finish line before the chase group. They only paid out five deep and I wish I could have seen them finish. The chase group dwindled down to a hand full of us and on the last lap, on the hill the two remaining strongest riders attacked to take 8th and 9th place respectively. I duked it out with the remaining few men for 11th. It was an interesting race and I learned a lot. I hope to be more aggressive in the future to avoid being a spectator within the race. It really annoyed me to see the real race unfold in front of my eyes, mere seconds down the road.
Shannon, Brown and I arrived with about an hour before the 3 race. Alex arrived shortly after, along with Chip, who came to cheer us all on. I managed a brief but adequate warm-up before lining up with about 30 others. The wind speeds were worth noting; a headwind at the finish, a strong tail wind from the North, pushing a fast pace down the back side of the course (reaching max speeds around 40 mph) and a stout cross wind that became a headwind as the course looped around to the hill and back to the finish line.
I thought I was ready for this race but as a newbie to CAT 3 races, I keep forgetting to take into account all the breakaway attempts and attacks. It really does change the whole dynamic of the race and it is contrary to what I’ve grown accustomed to. I think I need to tape a Post-It Note on my stem as a reminder; “someone’s going to attack” or maybe something like “attack early and attack often” or “be ready for a breakaway” or perhaps, ”suffer chasing or suffer breaking.”
Anyway, that about summed up the race for me. I was either in an ill-fated breakaway or chasing one…mostly chasing, unfortunately. We averaged 26 for the first couple of laps and the group stayed together. Around lap 3, Ryan Good was anxious to get a break started and being on the front when he attacked, I unexpectedly found myself in a break with him. For some reason, I remembered that old reality show, “You are the weakest link.” The break was short lived we were pulled back in. I was able to integrate back into the pack (surprisingly) without feeling totally spent. Despite the quick recovery, I was not feeling the same pop and zest in the legs that I did a few short weeks ago.
Shortly after the first break was reeled in, a second break of about 3 to 4 men escaped. I was in no shape to respond and I appeared to be in good company, as no one around me seemed capable of giving chase. As a result, the break slowly made time on the field and at one point was about 15 seconds in front and still well within striking range…that was the case until our pace suddenly became dangerously slow.
No one wanted to work to pull it in. There was the usually barking from the men in the rear about not chasing or whatever, but of course they wanted nothing to do with the work required to do so at the front. I suggested taking turns, pulling through at a decent pace in order to close the gap. I honestly don’t remember what was said next, but a Louisville guy told me to go…so what was a horse to do? I knew I’d never be able to bridge on my own but that maybe an attack might result in the rest of the field in chasing me (thus closing in the break). Well, I went as hard as I could for about 15 to 30 seconds and another rider went with me. I did not look back but I could sense that I had decent gap on the field but I was smack dab in the middle of no-mans-land. The plan sort-of-worked: the field reacted to my actions and caught us and the speed continued to stay brisk; thus putting some time on the break. When we came around the hill again, we could see the break. They were so stinking close. Only a few more collective efforts were required and we would have had them. The break dangled precariously out in front of us like that for the next several laps. Dayton had the largest numbers but from my point of view, were not able to orchestrate a solid effort. They were however able to bridge close enough to put a man in the break, which I suppose is worth applauding.
Once Team Dayton had secured its slot in the break, it seemed one of three things was transpiring back in the chase group…men were either dropping out, chasing, or bridging solo to the break. These solo bridges usually occurred on the hill and their efforts seemed Herculean.
I think all but two Team Dayton riders dropped out by this point (the remaining Dayton racer in the chase group was actually taking turns on the front, drilling it). A racer from Olympus Homes reminded him that he had a man in the break, but it didn’t seem to phase him (great team work).
By this point, the break consisted of seven men, all deservingly reaching the finish line before the chase group. They only paid out five deep and I wish I could have seen them finish. The chase group dwindled down to a hand full of us and on the last lap, on the hill the two remaining strongest riders attacked to take 8th and 9th place respectively. I duked it out with the remaining few men for 11th. It was an interesting race and I learned a lot. I hope to be more aggressive in the future to avoid being a spectator within the race. It really annoyed me to see the real race unfold in front of my eyes, mere seconds down the road.
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