PS: Embro rulz! I don’t care what Hao thinks.

So it came as great relief when I was finally able to make it to the start of my first race of the season albeit three months later than I had hoped. Coldspring was 3 x 16 miles laps with a few of those undulations that round these parts get described as hills. There were four of us competing in the 35+ 4/5 race; Hao, Yan, Dave and myself. From where I was sat in the peleton nothing much seemed to happen for the first lap or so. At the end of the second lap I moved up to the front of the race and put in a few attacks on the hills to see who would follow but was not able to really break things up. From that point on it was clear the race was going to come down to a sprint finish.  Taking Hao’s advice I slowly moved myself up to the front of the peleton which for a lot of the last lap was being driven hard by Yan. Hao’s advice before the start of the race for the final 1km was to measure my effort up the first half of the climb and then sprint hard for the last 500 metres. This is exactly what I ended up doing and became more and more surpised as one by one picked off riders in front of me. I think with about 100 metres to go I realised that I could actually win this race. On the line it was inches. My lack of celebration at the finish was a mixture of shock, British upbringing and fear of crashing my bike like that idiot Nick Lopez bloke at the final Memorial crit last year. I was very happy though.

So a big shout out to wingman Hao, it’s always good fun riding with him and listening to his increasing shouts at the peleton of “hold your line” and “don’t divebomb” as we approach the finish of races. Thanks to Yan for his triathlonesque efforts at the front (but remember it’s OK to pedal at more than 70 RPM) and lastly well done to Dave for staying out of relative trouble in his first of hopefully many competitive races for M7.

Finally back to my first paragraph. In all seriousness work was tough at the start of the year but at least I could look forward to my weekly highlight of a Sunday morning ride with the team. It’s always a pleasure riding with you gents.  Cheers, Ian.

Sugarland Crit:   To continue with new experiences, Yan and I did the crit as a new venue.  I was worried about the reports of how technical the course was with the grates and all.  The morning was cool again with no signs of rain so another perfect day of racing.  Yan and I began to warm up on the course and in usual fashion I got lost.  We had to follow others to know where the course was.  Already, Yan was yelling at me.  The race started in usual crit fashion – fast into the first turn.  It was sketchy with bunches in the turn and everyone trying to squeeze in around curbs.  I saw Yan in his usual spot up front and after the 3rd lap, I worked hard to get up to top 10 guys.  There were 7 primes throughout the day and everytime the bell rung, someone had a better jump so I stayed relaxed into pack.  I lost my bottle the first 3 laps, oh well.  I one lap I heard the bell ring and I was 3rd in the pack.  I we went around the back, I jumped to the number 2 and I looked around with no one making a jump.  I knew it my time.  I jumped at the second turn before the finish and I as rounded into the straightway, Clark from Shama was on my wheel.  I sprinted as hard as I could and lunged my bike across the line seeing his wheel right by mine.  I found out I inched him for the prime.  As soon as I recovered, the final bell lap rung.  I was in the top 10 but no accelleration.  I saw the winner accellerate and we all chased but no ground could be made up and we all sprinted for glory knowing that we could not win.  It was fun.

Hao.

Yan

We all arrived at the Hotel Limpia (Dr. Jones House) on Friday afternoon.  We proceeded to do a light spin before picking up our packet and eating.  Adolfo told us what we eat is important as our fuel for tomorrow morning; not necessarily the breakfast.  Well, after we picked up our packet, we realized that everything closed.  We found a store attendant leaving and begged him to let us in.  We ran around the store to buy food for dinner.  The store attendant estimated the food cost and we paid in cash with a small tip.

After our delicious sandwich, we began our preparation.  Yan decided to fix his rear derailleur by bending the arm straight following his crash earlier in the week.  He also changed cassettes after us telling him that a 11-23 would not fly with a 17% gradient climb.  This whole time, Adolfo would not look at us.  Dan too began fixing his bike.  (I know what ya’ll are thinking – damn triathletes).

Saturday morning was a beautiful, 50 degree and sunny start at 9:15 am.  I instilled more wisdom before we started by telling them don’t crack in the climbs but ride within your limits.  I was going to shepard them through the climb.  The first 10 miles were the warm up with only rolling hills before the foothills and 6 miles of climbing.  I thought to myself that my poor triathlete teammates would suffer tremendously. 

At the foothills, we began to climb and I saw Dan and Yan going backwards.  I said to myself, oh my poor friends.  After the first climb I saw the leading group about 20 yards in front.  I felt good and said hell, I will just ride up to them.  As we started the second climb, I was moving along when all of a sudden, my heart spiked and it felt as if my lungs would explode.  I said to myself, oh shit, I’m cracking at which point, I slowed down, naturally.

Low and behold, I see Dan pass me.  Then, I see Yan pass me.  As I was struggling to breathe and hyperventilating, Yan tells me something like “this is tough” as he was riding past me.  All I could remember is wishing that I had something to throw at him.  I started seeing them becoming smaller and smaller up the climb.  I kept thinking why didn’t they slow down and pace me back up like Lance in Paris-Nice?  After the first stage, the triathletes got 4 minutes on me.  Okay, the race is on now.

Then, came the 16-mile TT in the afternoon.  I was prepared this year to be aerodynamic.  My rear wheel had covers.  I had a front Zipp 404.  I had an aero helmet (thanks Gore).  I even had shoe covers.  I had the best TT ever, passing 4 guys.  I though that Dan and Yan was not going to get a lot of minutes on me and I could make it up on the 3rd stage.  Well, that went to hell.  Both triathletes got 5 minutes more on my as they finished around 42 mintues.  At this point, Dan was in 12th overall and Yan right behind him.  I was a respectable 34.

The last stage was a 34-mile climb route back through the Observatory down the canyon and back out.  My legs felt good and I was going to make back 9 minutes on them.  I thought of Floyd Landis.  The only problem was that I only had Rapid Recharge (protein powder) and other legal substances.  We started the 10-mile warm up and now I see Yan in the middle of the pack, talking to other racers as if he has been in the peloton for years.  Dan was stuck to his side.  At the foothills, we began our climb and the Ironmans began to pull away.  I was not going to crack again so it was a bad groundhog day.  I found 3 other guys and finished the race.  I heard Yan pulled away from Dan and make up the 40-second deficit to take the lead.

Yan ended up 10th, Dan at 12th and me at 26th.  Yan called the race a “girly ride.”  I propose that M7 membership should only be for pure bike racers and not triathletes. It was a lot of fun and I am proud of my fellow teammates.  One racer said that we surprised him because “guys from Houston aren’t suppose to climb well.”  Dan and Yan are definitely billy goats.

 I arrived at the race 45 minutes before it started, but I thought I was running late because the night before I was at prom. I went to after prom from 1 am to 5 am and slept from 8am to 11:45 am. Well now I sound like a girl complaining.

The only thing that was going through my mind while I was warming up was winning because I wanted my revenge over the Coldspring Road Race. When we started the race all I wanted to do was stay in the front of the race and chase down any breaks from getting away. I was even taking my pulls at 30+mi/hr. All of a sudden there was a break away and some of the guys in the peleton were convinced that we were never going to be able to catch them and I knew right away that anything but 1st place was not an acceptable option. So I decided to work even more in the race so we would be able to catch them in time for the final sprint, but 2 laps to go while being in third someone came from the right and took the guy in front of me and there was a crash in the peleton and I was caught in it and it turned out to be a huge pile up in the race. When I was able to get back up so I could begin to chase the peleton down for the sprint finish and 1st place I realized that my beautiful bike and a brand new front zip wheel had been completely destroyed. This infuriated me because if I had been in the back I would have avoided the crash like many others that were not in contention anymore and ended up in top 20th. I really wanted to win this race. “I tell you what,” that is some real freaking bad luck because I had been working very hard preparing for this race. What a weekend.

When the race began, we started out slowly but when the official rang the whistle we still didn’t start until 3 miles down the road, then everybody started checking out who was going to be the first guy to attack, then after a mile someone attacked and nobody followed unitl 5 miles down the road. I was not going to chase because all I wanted to finish the race strong with the peloton or the break but not do long pulls and waite all my energy. The whole time in the race I tried to sit on Brandon Cowart’s wheel since I knew he will be one of the guys to mark.

For the first 20 miles we were at a moderate pace which was 28mi/hr, then we picked it up to 34+mi/hr with constant attacks for the rest of the race. 

Benjamin constantly tried to break off with a couple of other guys and every time I saw him go off, I went to the front to mess up the rotation several times.

When we were coming near the end, I had a gut feeling telling me that Cody Foster (climber) was going to attack us so I went and sat on his wheel and when we were 200 meters from the finish line, I sprinted as I hard I could to that finish line but my legs gave up and not only did they cramp up, they started pulling and thats when a couple of guys passed me, which made me end up in 15th overall.

Just stay tuned for the Houston Grand Crit. I am gonna bring out “El Toro” from the bull pen.

For the first half of the race I tried to conserve as much energy as possible. With two laps to go, a few got to the front on the yellow line and really upped the pace on one of the cross wind sections. This caused many people to be dropped while the remaining 20 or so of us were hanging on for dear life. After a few miles of this, a few guys broke the rules and crossed over the line to get a better draft. This encouraged others to do the same thing, and next thing you know the entire group except a few where over the yellow line and cars were passing us on the right hand side of the road. Before we turned to get off of the road, the follow vehicle pulled up next to us and stopped the race to talk to us about crossing the yellow line. This allowed all of those who had been dropped to catch back up. For the next lap the pace never really escalated all that much. With one lap to go the same group of guys got back up to front on the same cross wind section, and successfully dropped almost half the pack. Fortunately, I was not one of them. I found myself in the group on the road with about 25 others. We all took hard pulls on the front before I spent the next 10 or so miles trying to recover, so that I could hang on for the cross wind section back into town. Finally the sprint came in and I just rolled in for a 20th or so finish.