I wanna go fast: Hampton Roads Shootout - totally not at all a stage race

This weekend was a bit of a mixed bag for this racer. A TT in the wet on Saturday morning, organized by one group, followed by another organization's crit under mixed conditions on Sunday, but with a combined podium and separate prizes/payouts. The format wasn't just confusing for the reader, as scoring officials were trying desperately to figure out how, exactly, the combined podium results should break down. Mixed category racing over both days didn't help.

Saturday was our first time racing the Conquer the Canal Time Trial, and my first time racing a TT with a true full complement of TT essentials. The weather was warm, but with rain rolling in from the South and winds forecasted at 8 mph. And it was a slow soaking rain.

The course was a 12-mile out & back due South, so the out-leg was into the headwind. I'd done a bunch of research on which way to push hard, and everything indicated it would be wise to go harder into the headwind, even if it meant blowing up on the return. But the research also indicated to roll onto power in the first 30 seconds, rather than exploding off the block, a piece of advice that I think made a huge impact overall in the event.

I followed every hunch I had in gearing up for it, too: no gloves, no watch or Road ID, aero helmet & visor (even fogged up and vision blocking it would be faster to go with it and just try not to die), speed suit & fancy TT shoe covers, freshly shaved face & legs. The bike was 95% perfect with aero everything--the only things missing being a deep-section front wheel that I didn't own and a single chain-ring setup with no derailleur. I'd even thrown on a cassette with a physically smaller 11-25 profile because of the flat flat flat terrain. Next time I might even go 11-23.

But I'd also spent the entire week before on the sofa, sick with the flu. My chest had been so congested I couldn't roll over without unleashing a hell of coughing that rattled through my whole body. I'd been unable to turn a pedal until an exploratory trainer session on Thursday night--one that had ended with a deep and troubling hacking fit. I choked down cough medicine and rested as hard as I could, confident that I'd roll off the starting block and collapse in a fit of deep chesty coughing.

My only solace was that there were just 6 starters in Cat 3, so all I'd have to do was turn pedals in wet misery for 12 miles, and there would be points for my season. Points pay 15 places deep. It wasn't a great plan, but it was a plan.

But when I got down on the skis, the lungs didn't complain. In fact they seemed to open up willingly. So when the timer got to zero, I rolled hard. I took my minute to come up to speed, constantly ready for the lungs to rebel. Ready to cough so hard I'd crash. But I just didn't. And I got through heart rate zones 3 & 4 with no problem. My real honest goal had been to push a little into zone 5, which starts at 175 bpm, so I probed that, getting up to 179 and holding it...and feeling like there was more. So I pushed on to 181 bpm, which is deep in the red for me, but I've held it there for a while in Zwift races.

And it just stuck. And the lungs stayed clear. And the legs didn't complain. So I pushed, and pushed, and pushed. And then I was at the turn-around, and grateful I'd spent some time tweaking the front brake after the wreck a couple weeks ago. I dove onto the brakes, unclipped and grazed a toe (hope I didn't trash the expensive shoe-cover) around the cone, re-clipped, took a sip, and pushed again.

I ended up holding a heart rate of 181 bpm for most of the return trip, which was supposed to be the slightly downwind run. I was running almost completely blind with the fog in my visor, and the Garmin wasn't turning in accurate results with all the wetness, but I was going for broke.

I crossed the line at 27:33, good enough for 4th place in the mixed 1/2/3 results, but a win for Cat 3! A win by 30 seconds, in fact.

A win that would cost me on Sunday.

TT's were going to be the great unknown for me in my efforts to secure a season trophy. I'd avoided doing them in Cat 3 last year because I expected I'd finish dead last and didn't want the embarrassment. I put all my eggs in the crits & road races basket, where I'd done really well as a Cat 4 racer, but through all of 2018 I struggled to have any sort of meaningful results as a 3.

I'd vowed to improve those results and "crack the code" of Cat 3 racing, and my season so far had shown a bit of improvement, with 4th, 6th, and 8th place finishes, and a 15th place that resulted from being impatient and chasing a late-race prime. I was optimistic going into Sunday, and hopeful that the full week of rest would allow me to go hard twice.

Yeah...not so much.

The weather Sunday was predicted to be wet and windy again, but windier and only wet sometimes. I don't like to crit in the rain, and I know I cannot race my fastest race bike in the wet--it eats bearings to the tune of $200 per wet ride. The backup bike is ok, but the geometry makes it weird to sprint on, and it's not an aero bike by any stretch of the imagination. Internal cable-routing is about it, and the alloy wheels are barely 25mm deep. I'd be doing all the work to make it fast.

And I woke up Sunday with absolutely no desire to race. My last race on a speedway had resulted in a broken bike and a broken rib, and so far this season has seen a 1:1 relationship between races and crashes.

Speedway + crosswind + rain + crashy-season. No desire. None.

But it didn't rain all morning. It was windy, but not too bad. And I was watching a rhythm develop to every other race, and starting to feel like maybe all I needed to do was just turn laps and feel it out.

And then, 15 minutes before we were set to start, it started raining. And it rained through the entire Cat 3/4 race, and for about 5 minutes after. And of course it then stopped and didn't rain another drop all day. Grrr.

And I'm not ashamed to say I raced fearfully. I was ready for tires to fail. For someone to touch paint on the ground and take us all out. For me to be the one to do it. Fear raises the heart rate, and this was a FAST race. Basically flat with light banking made it possible for the race to just surge and surge and keep right on surging until there was no surge left to surge. We were going every bit as fast, in a group, as I'd gone in the TT the day before. And my heart was deep into zone 5 for most of it.

Little gaps kept opening, and constantly nervous that I'd miss the winning move, I kept jumping into them. Over and over again, for 40 minutes. I found my way to the front easily enough, marked the guys I wanted to mark, but I just kept becoming aware of rising fatigue.

3 laps from the end, I probed a line that took me through the wind on the high-side going into the final sprint, found that it was principally clear, and decided to roll that line until the end. I moved up toward the front, and entering that turn with 2 laps to go it was clear that would work for me. On the penultimate run though that section, though, mysteriously the whole group moved up into my line, and I spooked. I didn't fight for the position, and suddenly I was freight-trained to the back of about 15 guys. In 1 turn I'd gone from the front to the back, and on totally the wrong lap to do it.

My teammate rolled up and told me to jump on his wheel, but I just didn't have it, and I ended up losing contact and rolling in for another 15th place finish. It was good enough for 1 point for the season, but it really sucked. I think it helped my fears of speedway and rain racing, so that's one positive. My heart spent 77.8% of the race above 174 bpm, which is usually ok, but not after a blistering TT the day before. Hopefully increased confidence in wet conditions will help soothe the nerves for next time, since it seems that rain racing is here to stay.