Last week, just 2 days after a full weekend of racing, I lined up with the other local hot-shoes for another shot at Tuesday Night Glory. I was still hurting pretty bad from Sunday's TT, and had to put down some slightly stronger efforts than I'd wanted to get to work on time.
Knowing I didn't have it in the tank to just mix up with the bulldozers, we had a quick team strategy session before the race and decided to do things differently. We're not a big threat in that race, so nobody's really watching for us to make power moves. In fact, the two principal teams are so consumed with each other, they'd probably not notice much of anything we might try. And even better for our efforts, there's another team that brings big numbers and tries every week to make something happen, so we're even less likely to be noticed.
As the race got started, it was gloriously languid enough for conversations to take place through the group. I sat back and relaxed at the back, feeling that I might have one big effort, maybe, somewhere in the race. I sure as HELL wasn't going to waste it on a prime this time.
So I waited, and I watched, and I learned a lot. Sure enough, the two principal teams were so focused on marking each other that they were throwing out efforts left & right. Back to front, roll off, repeat. Team #3 was trying to make breaks happen, but nobody was biting, and amazingly, the group stuck together.
When the final prime rang, and the dust settled, I jumped, bringing a pair of unattached riders with me to the front and throwing them into the wind. They rolled out to a 10-meter lead, but I had no interest in trying to power off the front of the group, so I let their efforts expire...just in time to be set out into the wind myself for a full lap. With 3 to go. Yikes. Had I fired the cannon too soon?
I paced down like crazy, and the group settled with me. I dragged them through the kudzu on the edge of the course, and still they followed. With 2 to go, they jumped, and I had just enough gas left to jump with them.
Going into the bottom turn on the last lap, the group strung way out, and we hit 43 mph making a gap. I barely got across that gap as we rolled up to the final turn, and then I came through it like an idiot. Just like last year, when I didn't feel I'd "earned the right" to be there at the finish, I second-guessed myself coming out of the turn and allowed the others to dictate my placement. I rolled on power, but only 50%, hunting for a way through, and by the time I'd found one, the leaders were up the road. I picked up 2 spots and nearly grabbed one more at the line, but I'd finished in a points-paying position in the A race for the first time ever.
Friday, August 24, 2018
Monday, August 13, 2018
My legs are dead'r 'n dead
Another back-to-back championship event weekend in VA Cycling. I probably shouldn't complain, though, because it was a pair of events that managed to not get canceled this year. That's a pretty sad achievement, and perhaps an indictment of the state of the sport in our region, but grumblings aside, we at least got to race.
Things got rolling Saturday with the Chesapeake Crit, which is the state championship crit for categorized racers (i.e., Cats 1 - 5, not juniors or masters). I'd done pretty well last year, with a 4th place finish and a prime in the Cat 4 event, but last week's Bryan Park training race had been my first crit in over 2 months, and I was racing at a higher level than last year. I didn't feel very hopeful, but at least I wouldn't be in a mixed category race.
It started, as they almost all do, with a feverish first lap. Speeds well into the 30's on the back half of the course, and a mad dash to the finish line for no evident reason at all. But whereas most races settle into something of a rhythm that allows for rests and preservation of momentum, this one never quite found its stride. Cheerbacks brought a small army with the intention of launching their top riders to an uncontested victory. The rest of us were just struggling to make that tough for them to execute.
They got an early break going at about 7 laps in. It was too early to really worry about it, but their freight-train rider came and sat on the front while they rode clear. I watched them get out to about 15 seconds and sit there for about 2 laps before I got tired of it and launched a counter-attack. I brought the group back to them and ended up getting stuck near the front for the next 2 laps.
Sensing another Page Valley disaster, where I had been completely unable to get off the front for several miles, I took the turn before the front straight fast and as tight as possible, eliciting jeers and admonishment from Mr. Freight Train...and absolutely nobody else. But it got me off the front, and put him in the wind. I rolled back through the group to wait for their next attack.
One of the nice things about a smaller race group is that there's more room to move around. Though I'd moved back, I found plenty of avenues and opportunities to move forward. Unfortunately, one of the challenges of a small group is not knowing exactly where the back of the group is, and I found myself at risk of dropping off several times through the middle of the race.
So I moved up again, and again they launched an attack. And again they plopped their freight train rider on the front. This time the group wasn't having it, and started complaining. He let out a tirade of profanities, so I jumped off the front and started another charge, allowing the group to do about half the work this time.
But as soon as they were caught, another attack went. One rider got away solo, and a few laps later another bridged up to him, and together they rode clear of the whole group to the end.
Two more tried to move up but were caught in the last lap, but back to that whole rhythm thing? The whole race was just rolling around the back and laying down huge sprints to the line. Over and over again, with absolutely no point.
I did have a chance to go after the lone prime, but the rider on the front got a great launch going into the turn, and the rider in front of me decided to take a languid approach to the turn, so while I was running him down, it was never really close.
And that was my only real match to burn. The constant sprinting wore me out, and when it came time for the last lap charge, I got pinched in the first turn and had to brake to stay upright, had to work back from the absolute back of the group to the last turn, and just had nothing for the sprint itself. I picked up 1, maybe 2 positions on the way to a 17th place finish.
We managed to put a teammate into the final sprint, and he got 2nd in the bunch, but with those 2 riders clear, he was 4th overall.
---
Sunday's PGT TT was just pain. I was really disappointed by my finish at the USO TT back in June, and had bought both a speedsuit and a pointy hat in the interim. Sunday was the first time I'd ever worn either. The speedsuit felt great, but oh my goodness the heat in that pointy hat! To be fair, it ventilated *pretty* well, but sweat just ran down my nose the whole race like I was on an indoor trainer.
But they made a big difference. Though June's race had minor elevation changes and this one was dead flat, my average heart-rate was only 1 bpm different between the two. My average speed, however, was up 1.2 mph. That's pretty substantial. I don't have a power meter on that bike, but I feel pretty comfortable asserting that I put out comparable power between the two events.
Unfortunately my age puts me in a category of titans, and even with all that extra speed, I could only manage 3rd of 4, and caught a lucky break in that the guy in 4th was just having an off day. But whereas in June I was *minutes* off the pace, this time I was only about 40 seconds off.
That is a number that is still surmountable with equipment. As this was the last TT of the season, though, there's no rush to go out and buy anything right now, but the 1X conversion isn't complete: I still have a front derailleur hanging out in the wind. I've read that can impose up to 8W penalty, and I'm still running a pretty shallow front wheel. If I can find a deeper wheel, finish up the 1X change with a proper narrow-wide chainring, and remember to pack the shoe covers next time, maybe (just maybe) I'll get to move up a step on a podium next year.
Not doing it the day after a really tough crit might help, too.
---
That's it for the 2018 VA Cycling calendar. There are a few more Bryan Park races, and possibly the Carolina Cup in September, but the season is over. It was more memorable for being a season that wasn't. Between 6 events getting canceled, Whole30 stupidity, and a crash that took me out of racing for 6 weeks, this will be remembered as one of substantial disappointment for me.
The Boy, though? Wow: what a season for him! His crit on Saturday saw his highest average speed to date, with a searing 19.1 mph solo TT effort that saw him lap one competitor and nearly lap another (and in so doing, almost lap the first one AGAIN) in 6 laps. That effort put the 2018 VA Cycling BAR Champ jersey firmly in his grasp, and Sunday's TT was much the same (exactly 1 minute faster than his closest rival, with a time that wasn't far off the winning 13-14 year-old ride), allowing him to also secure the 2018 Omnium.
Things got rolling Saturday with the Chesapeake Crit, which is the state championship crit for categorized racers (i.e., Cats 1 - 5, not juniors or masters). I'd done pretty well last year, with a 4th place finish and a prime in the Cat 4 event, but last week's Bryan Park training race had been my first crit in over 2 months, and I was racing at a higher level than last year. I didn't feel very hopeful, but at least I wouldn't be in a mixed category race.
It started, as they almost all do, with a feverish first lap. Speeds well into the 30's on the back half of the course, and a mad dash to the finish line for no evident reason at all. But whereas most races settle into something of a rhythm that allows for rests and preservation of momentum, this one never quite found its stride. Cheerbacks brought a small army with the intention of launching their top riders to an uncontested victory. The rest of us were just struggling to make that tough for them to execute.
They got an early break going at about 7 laps in. It was too early to really worry about it, but their freight-train rider came and sat on the front while they rode clear. I watched them get out to about 15 seconds and sit there for about 2 laps before I got tired of it and launched a counter-attack. I brought the group back to them and ended up getting stuck near the front for the next 2 laps.
Sensing another Page Valley disaster, where I had been completely unable to get off the front for several miles, I took the turn before the front straight fast and as tight as possible, eliciting jeers and admonishment from Mr. Freight Train...and absolutely nobody else. But it got me off the front, and put him in the wind. I rolled back through the group to wait for their next attack.
One of the nice things about a smaller race group is that there's more room to move around. Though I'd moved back, I found plenty of avenues and opportunities to move forward. Unfortunately, one of the challenges of a small group is not knowing exactly where the back of the group is, and I found myself at risk of dropping off several times through the middle of the race.
So I moved up again, and again they launched an attack. And again they plopped their freight train rider on the front. This time the group wasn't having it, and started complaining. He let out a tirade of profanities, so I jumped off the front and started another charge, allowing the group to do about half the work this time.
But as soon as they were caught, another attack went. One rider got away solo, and a few laps later another bridged up to him, and together they rode clear of the whole group to the end.
Two more tried to move up but were caught in the last lap, but back to that whole rhythm thing? The whole race was just rolling around the back and laying down huge sprints to the line. Over and over again, with absolutely no point.
I did have a chance to go after the lone prime, but the rider on the front got a great launch going into the turn, and the rider in front of me decided to take a languid approach to the turn, so while I was running him down, it was never really close.
And that was my only real match to burn. The constant sprinting wore me out, and when it came time for the last lap charge, I got pinched in the first turn and had to brake to stay upright, had to work back from the absolute back of the group to the last turn, and just had nothing for the sprint itself. I picked up 1, maybe 2 positions on the way to a 17th place finish.
We managed to put a teammate into the final sprint, and he got 2nd in the bunch, but with those 2 riders clear, he was 4th overall.
---
Sunday's PGT TT was just pain. I was really disappointed by my finish at the USO TT back in June, and had bought both a speedsuit and a pointy hat in the interim. Sunday was the first time I'd ever worn either. The speedsuit felt great, but oh my goodness the heat in that pointy hat! To be fair, it ventilated *pretty* well, but sweat just ran down my nose the whole race like I was on an indoor trainer.
But they made a big difference. Though June's race had minor elevation changes and this one was dead flat, my average heart-rate was only 1 bpm different between the two. My average speed, however, was up 1.2 mph. That's pretty substantial. I don't have a power meter on that bike, but I feel pretty comfortable asserting that I put out comparable power between the two events.
Unfortunately my age puts me in a category of titans, and even with all that extra speed, I could only manage 3rd of 4, and caught a lucky break in that the guy in 4th was just having an off day. But whereas in June I was *minutes* off the pace, this time I was only about 40 seconds off.
That is a number that is still surmountable with equipment. As this was the last TT of the season, though, there's no rush to go out and buy anything right now, but the 1X conversion isn't complete: I still have a front derailleur hanging out in the wind. I've read that can impose up to 8W penalty, and I'm still running a pretty shallow front wheel. If I can find a deeper wheel, finish up the 1X change with a proper narrow-wide chainring, and remember to pack the shoe covers next time, maybe (just maybe) I'll get to move up a step on a podium next year.
Not doing it the day after a really tough crit might help, too.
---
That's it for the 2018 VA Cycling calendar. There are a few more Bryan Park races, and possibly the Carolina Cup in September, but the season is over. It was more memorable for being a season that wasn't. Between 6 events getting canceled, Whole30 stupidity, and a crash that took me out of racing for 6 weeks, this will be remembered as one of substantial disappointment for me.
The Boy, though? Wow: what a season for him! His crit on Saturday saw his highest average speed to date, with a searing 19.1 mph solo TT effort that saw him lap one competitor and nearly lap another (and in so doing, almost lap the first one AGAIN) in 6 laps. That effort put the 2018 VA Cycling BAR Champ jersey firmly in his grasp, and Sunday's TT was much the same (exactly 1 minute faster than his closest rival, with a time that wasn't far off the winning 13-14 year-old ride), allowing him to also secure the 2018 Omnium.
Wednesday, August 08, 2018
BP - first race in 2 months
There's something terrifying about returning to racing. It's something of a combination of a fear of crashing mixed with a fear of being caught out of form, but as I warmed up for last night's race, I could taste blood and feel that muted thwack of my face hitting the pavement just 40 days ago. Those completely mental sensations did nothing to allay my fears, and I was concerned that I'd be shuffled off the back within a few laps for being timid.
No reason for worry, though, as the race started casually enough for conversations at the back. In fact, it took almost 5 laps before I started seeing exotic heart-rate data, and several more before I started losing feeling in my hands.
Having watched the B race get ripped to shreds by a breakaway of 5 riders, I was not eager to see that repeated in the A race, and charged forward at about lap 7 from the back. Somehow I made it all the way to the front, and stayed right in the top group for about the next 6 laps or so. I chased every attack like an idiot, at one point jumping on 3 in rapid succession and nearly getting dropped off the back of the group.
With the lap-board winding down, I figured I'd see if I could either make it to the end or challenge for the final prime. When the bell rang with 5 laps to go, the group largely didn't respond. I sat in for half the lap, then sensing that nobody was running off after the prime, goosed it to the lead group, where N. Etheridge was sitting just clear of the front. Since I'd been able to eke out sprints against him last year, I went for it, but didn't have enough energy for a proper sprint.
We rounded the turn, he got out of the saddle, and I did my hardest seated sprint. I was gaining on him by inches, but rapidly running out of room, when out of nowhere a dude comes by on the right like we're both tied to a tree. From my perspective, he got us both well before the line, but the judges awarded them both the prime. Either way, my goose was COOKED. I sank like a stone and had to claw back on again.
With 3 laps to go, I'd regained just a touch of feeling in my fingers and moved forward again. I got to the front just in time for the pace to pick up for the final 2 laps, and by the time I came around to see "1" on the board, I had nothing. I'd made it 19 laps with the group, but was not going to be contending for the win, so I let it go. I wasn't sure if there was a chase, so I gave the last lap everything I had, but it was a sad solo roll to the end.
I'll get back in the game one day, but for now I'm just glad to have knocked some of the rust off, kept the bike upright, and stayed in it to the end.
No reason for worry, though, as the race started casually enough for conversations at the back. In fact, it took almost 5 laps before I started seeing exotic heart-rate data, and several more before I started losing feeling in my hands.
Having watched the B race get ripped to shreds by a breakaway of 5 riders, I was not eager to see that repeated in the A race, and charged forward at about lap 7 from the back. Somehow I made it all the way to the front, and stayed right in the top group for about the next 6 laps or so. I chased every attack like an idiot, at one point jumping on 3 in rapid succession and nearly getting dropped off the back of the group.
With the lap-board winding down, I figured I'd see if I could either make it to the end or challenge for the final prime. When the bell rang with 5 laps to go, the group largely didn't respond. I sat in for half the lap, then sensing that nobody was running off after the prime, goosed it to the lead group, where N. Etheridge was sitting just clear of the front. Since I'd been able to eke out sprints against him last year, I went for it, but didn't have enough energy for a proper sprint.
We rounded the turn, he got out of the saddle, and I did my hardest seated sprint. I was gaining on him by inches, but rapidly running out of room, when out of nowhere a dude comes by on the right like we're both tied to a tree. From my perspective, he got us both well before the line, but the judges awarded them both the prime. Either way, my goose was COOKED. I sank like a stone and had to claw back on again.
With 3 laps to go, I'd regained just a touch of feeling in my fingers and moved forward again. I got to the front just in time for the pace to pick up for the final 2 laps, and by the time I came around to see "1" on the board, I had nothing. I'd made it 19 laps with the group, but was not going to be contending for the win, so I let it go. I wasn't sure if there was a chase, so I gave the last lap everything I had, but it was a sad solo roll to the end.
I'll get back in the game one day, but for now I'm just glad to have knocked some of the rust off, kept the bike upright, and stayed in it to the end.
Wednesday, August 01, 2018
USAC Amateur Road Nationals!!
What an amazing weekend.
All year, this has felt like some far-off dot on an unseen horizon. Nationals are coming! Late July! Hagerstown, MD: so close you can't NOT go. And as the current state champion, Alastair had a right and a duty to represent VA Cycling on a national stage.
But it never really felt like it was actually coming until it was almost right on top of us, and the 3 weeks leading up to it were a fury of planning, training, and building a new bike (more on that later). Then suddenly, amazingly, terrifyingly, it was time to pack and go.
We'd gotten his speed up from a consistent 16 mph to just a tick over 18 on road rides just this year, including a 35-miler at 18.4 just a few days prior to leaving. That's a lot of work for anybody, but a kid pushing A- paces felt pretty amazing, and all the recovery models projected he'd be in pretty much top form for the weekend. We were excited and confident in his ability, but I was secretly terrified of what might happen in a group.
Prior to this weekend, he'd never raced in a peloton. He'd never raced a group larger than 17, and that group split apart within the first 2 minutes of that race. This would be chaos of a whole new level for him, and I really wanted to bring home a whole boy and a whole bike. Would he be skittish in a group? Would he grab a handful of confidence-brake in the middle of a descent? Would he pick a too tight or too loose line through a turn and hook bars/wheels/elbows with an adjacent rider? Having just recently broken a hand and a face, and with last year's broken ribs fresh in my memory, I shuddered to think what might happen.
Fortunately, the first event was a TT. Whew. Nothing to worry about there except just laying down consistent power...something he's never actually trained for specifically. Every time he'd tried on Zwift, his heart rate would max out at about 190, a full 15 bpm off what it should be. Maybe it was race nerves, maybe it was just ferocity, but he jumped out of that start house at 190 bpm, ran his heart straight to 205, and held it there. For the entire 6.9 mile ride, his heart never dipped below 199, and as he made his way back to the finish line he touched 214, crossing the line at 21:04 with an average speed of 19.4 mph.
While it was briefly good enough for 4th place, we then started seeing and hearing some of the other finishers' performances, and soon heard a staggering 17:28 for the eventual winner. A 12 year old boy rode 23 mph on a road bicycle for almost 7 miles. Then he got off the bike...and he was as tall as I am. In fact most of the podium was towering giants. Other parents suggested--only half in jest--that some genetic testing might be in order.
Either way, I was incredibly proud and blown away by his performance. He excelled at a type of riding that he's never trained for. TT's require incredible concentration. If you get bored and let your mind wander, the pace drops almost immediately. But he didn't: he held super strong, and may actually have a real future in this very specific racing format. His final position was 16th of 24, so rounding out the middle 3rd of the group. Amazing, especially when you consider that he'd drawn the unfortunate position of first-rider. He had nobody ahead of him to try to catch, and was the bunny for the rest of the group.
Friday was a rest day, and we were just 12 miles from Antietam, so we took in some of the battleground and drove over to scout the road race course. Friday also marked the end of sleep for Alastair, as the nerves and caffeine caught up to him.
We got up Saturday and made our way lazily to the road course. He got straight to work warming up while I got set up to spectate. Another local VA boy showed up, but with his dad's fancy carbon fiber wheels, a move I'd considered but ultimately abandoned because of braking performance.
Right out of the gate the group split in two, with Thursday's titans driving a hard pace up the climb. Both groups were similarly sized, and the field of 32 quickly became 2 groups of 12 with the rest stuck in no-man's land.
Both groups withered throughout the race, and inexplicably on the last lap Alastair decided to participate in the feed zone, taking a bottle and giving up time on his group. Though he clawed back on and actually pulled for a bit, he lost touch on the descent and ended up coming in alone. By the end, the chase group was down to 4, and he finished 23rd of 32.
Heart rate data showed he'd given 100% to the effort, but cadence data suggested he could have raced far more efficiently, and having watched the call-up process, we know he gave up positions before the race ever started.
All in all, it was a great performance for his first real mass-start large-field race.
Sunday would see the final event of the weekend: the crit. And I have to say, I was really nervous. Course recon and advice from friends suggested the first turn would provide some fireworks for the day, as the road narrows dramatically just past the turn. And in fact we got there early enough to watch a girl from the morning's first race crash hard in that exact spot.
But after a couple of miles of warm-up, he headed to roll-out and again failed to fight for position in the call-up sprint. Straight off the line, the big kids laid down huge power and split the group. This time the split was a bit less even, with about 15 in the front group, 10 in Alastair's chase group, and about 4 riders on their own.
The fast group was almost fast enough to lap the chase group, but they stayed just out of reach to finish on the lead lap, 1:45 behind the leaders. There were no wrecks that we saw, though we did later see a boy from his race getting medical attention, and Alastair again finished 23rd (of 29), 1 position behind the other VA Cycling representative.
Though none of his performances were at the level he'd expected going in, he had a great time in every race, and has some specific things he wants to work on for next year. Because yes: he really wants to go back and do it again. He wants to be a US Road Champion.
All year, this has felt like some far-off dot on an unseen horizon. Nationals are coming! Late July! Hagerstown, MD: so close you can't NOT go. And as the current state champion, Alastair had a right and a duty to represent VA Cycling on a national stage.
But it never really felt like it was actually coming until it was almost right on top of us, and the 3 weeks leading up to it were a fury of planning, training, and building a new bike (more on that later). Then suddenly, amazingly, terrifyingly, it was time to pack and go.
We'd gotten his speed up from a consistent 16 mph to just a tick over 18 on road rides just this year, including a 35-miler at 18.4 just a few days prior to leaving. That's a lot of work for anybody, but a kid pushing A- paces felt pretty amazing, and all the recovery models projected he'd be in pretty much top form for the weekend. We were excited and confident in his ability, but I was secretly terrified of what might happen in a group.
Prior to this weekend, he'd never raced in a peloton. He'd never raced a group larger than 17, and that group split apart within the first 2 minutes of that race. This would be chaos of a whole new level for him, and I really wanted to bring home a whole boy and a whole bike. Would he be skittish in a group? Would he grab a handful of confidence-brake in the middle of a descent? Would he pick a too tight or too loose line through a turn and hook bars/wheels/elbows with an adjacent rider? Having just recently broken a hand and a face, and with last year's broken ribs fresh in my memory, I shuddered to think what might happen.
Fortunately, the first event was a TT. Whew. Nothing to worry about there except just laying down consistent power...something he's never actually trained for specifically. Every time he'd tried on Zwift, his heart rate would max out at about 190, a full 15 bpm off what it should be. Maybe it was race nerves, maybe it was just ferocity, but he jumped out of that start house at 190 bpm, ran his heart straight to 205, and held it there. For the entire 6.9 mile ride, his heart never dipped below 199, and as he made his way back to the finish line he touched 214, crossing the line at 21:04 with an average speed of 19.4 mph.
 |
| Roll-out done and passed! I like that they do it before the start, so kids don't destroy themselves with effort only to be DQ'd |
 |
| Anticipation and focus |
 |
| Up in the start-house, cross-chained and ready to roll |
While it was briefly good enough for 4th place, we then started seeing and hearing some of the other finishers' performances, and soon heard a staggering 17:28 for the eventual winner. A 12 year old boy rode 23 mph on a road bicycle for almost 7 miles. Then he got off the bike...and he was as tall as I am. In fact most of the podium was towering giants. Other parents suggested--only half in jest--that some genetic testing might be in order.
Either way, I was incredibly proud and blown away by his performance. He excelled at a type of riding that he's never trained for. TT's require incredible concentration. If you get bored and let your mind wander, the pace drops almost immediately. But he didn't: he held super strong, and may actually have a real future in this very specific racing format. His final position was 16th of 24, so rounding out the middle 3rd of the group. Amazing, especially when you consider that he'd drawn the unfortunate position of first-rider. He had nobody ahead of him to try to catch, and was the bunny for the rest of the group.
Friday was a rest day, and we were just 12 miles from Antietam, so we took in some of the battleground and drove over to scout the road race course. Friday also marked the end of sleep for Alastair, as the nerves and caffeine caught up to him.
We got up Saturday and made our way lazily to the road course. He got straight to work warming up while I got set up to spectate. Another local VA boy showed up, but with his dad's fancy carbon fiber wheels, a move I'd considered but ultimately abandoned because of braking performance.
Right out of the gate the group split in two, with Thursday's titans driving a hard pace up the climb. Both groups were similarly sized, and the field of 32 quickly became 2 groups of 12 with the rest stuck in no-man's land.
Both groups withered throughout the race, and inexplicably on the last lap Alastair decided to participate in the feed zone, taking a bottle and giving up time on his group. Though he clawed back on and actually pulled for a bit, he lost touch on the descent and ended up coming in alone. By the end, the chase group was down to 4, and he finished 23rd of 32.
Heart rate data showed he'd given 100% to the effort, but cadence data suggested he could have raced far more efficiently, and having watched the call-up process, we know he gave up positions before the race ever started.All in all, it was a great performance for his first real mass-start large-field race.
Sunday would see the final event of the weekend: the crit. And I have to say, I was really nervous. Course recon and advice from friends suggested the first turn would provide some fireworks for the day, as the road narrows dramatically just past the turn. And in fact we got there early enough to watch a girl from the morning's first race crash hard in that exact spot.
But after a couple of miles of warm-up, he headed to roll-out and again failed to fight for position in the call-up sprint. Straight off the line, the big kids laid down huge power and split the group. This time the split was a bit less even, with about 15 in the front group, 10 in Alastair's chase group, and about 4 riders on their own.
The fast group was almost fast enough to lap the chase group, but they stayed just out of reach to finish on the lead lap, 1:45 behind the leaders. There were no wrecks that we saw, though we did later see a boy from his race getting medical attention, and Alastair again finished 23rd (of 29), 1 position behind the other VA Cycling representative.
Though none of his performances were at the level he'd expected going in, he had a great time in every race, and has some specific things he wants to work on for next year. Because yes: he really wants to go back and do it again. He wants to be a US Road Champion.
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