Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 18: Green Sheds CP.

Long Story Short

• I finished 4th,
• I lead out the Sprint,
• I did loads of work in the group, especially approaching the end,
• Four groups on the road,
• Limit group just stayed away,
• Looks like the handicaps were 6:30, 1:00, 2:30 between the groups.

Strava

View the ride on Strava: Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 18: Green Sheds CP. 4th after leading the last km.

View the Flybys Replay of the Race. I've enabled;

• Myself, started with Limit Group, finished 4th, not the token Ginger for once,
• Eoin, started with Semi-Limit, finished with the second group,
• Jules, started with Semi-Scratch, finished with the third group,
• Eric, started with Scratch, finished with the second group.

Short Story Long

Build-up

I recovered from my bout of Gastroenteritis on Monday evening. It was risky to have my first bit of Sushi for lunch on Monday, but it all worked out. Doctors would later say that that Gastroenteritis would've killed a normal man. I signed something about donating my body to science.

On Monday in Tesco, I must've looked like sick puppy as I tried to puzzle out the Dried Mango and get the best one. I took it easy in the build up, with an easy ride on the Tuesday and some Pre-Race efforts on the Wednesday.

My goals for this race were, as always, to finish with the front group.

Pre-Race

I had a series of work meetings before the race. I had 30 mins between the meetings, so I got changed and fed in this time. I ate the usual John West Tuna Steam Pot.

In the last meeting, I was staring out the window, I seen a collection of rabbits, with a fox chasing them. The fox didn't catch any of the rabbits. If you've read the books behind the Game of Thrones TV series, or watched Arrested Development a second time, you'll understand foreboding.

I was on the way up to Black Bull at 17:04. Surprisingly, there wasn't a crash at exit 6 on the M50. I was up there at 17:40. I ate the two bananas. Put on the rest of my kit and started the warm up. I went to the start and there was a bit of chat. I consumed a caffeine gel. There was enough Limit riders, nine, to allow a Limit only group, which would be chased by the other three groups.

Race

Out to Circuit

We set out behind the lead car and motorcycle outrider. On the first ramp, at the end of the lay-by, I noticed that my Limit compatriots were all out of the saddle. I was in the small ring spinning fast. I went from last to first in those few meters. All, but one of us, were doing work in this section. James was attending his first race. He picked up the idea of the pace line pretty quickly. Damien, at the back, was on the receiving end of a short burst of expletives from me the first time he didn't come through. I was particularly annoyed, as I though his wheel over lapping mine from the side that I was going to move onto. This would require me to wait for him to move, then close the large gap to the next guy in front.

I was pretty happy at the make-up of the group, lots of honest workers in there. Younger Luke was there too, after his crash at the Junior Tour.

The last time we raced this circuit, I was very upset at the guys not working. This time I decided to just let it go. They race their race and I'll race mine. One thing that I noticed from the Limit group, was the lack of the "last man" calls. Contrast this to Semi-Limit, where you can hear the calls well before it's relevant to you.

We went around the roundabout, there wasn't any massive accelerations, so the pack remained together. We crested the three rises that punctuate the finishing parcours.

Lap One

We kept it together well through the next roundabouts. After the two, where we take the first exit, I seen Dave's face. He looked like he was in a pretty bad way. Would he make it to the finish? When I got to the back I noticed that our passenger wasn't there. I presumed that he had been dropped through the roundabouts. But I was wrong, he was now taking turns. All nine of us were working. To quote Greg Roberts, AKA Bucky, from TheNewBoston; "Pretty Stinking Awesome".

We kept it very tidy through the next roundabout too. Diarmuid shot off the front at the next turn. I followed, but he was just creating space behind him for the other guys and girl. Grouppo Compacto for the long run to the last roundabout of the course. This run has a few rises in it. I was gapping everyone else on these rises. I was feeling insanely strong at this stage. We finished the lap without any problems.

Lap Two

Final lap, and no sign of the other groups. Diarmuid wanted to skyrocket the pace to avoid capture. This dissipated rapidly, as he was out by himself. Nothing major happened until the run to the final roundabout. Only one minor incident, where one person didn't accelerate over the crest of the hill and I almost touched wheels with him. I was giving encouragement by informing the other guy and girl that we were "kicking ass". My only concerns were the sweat and fluid seeping from my nose. This was trickling into my mouth. I regretted shaving the night before, as my mustache (or sorry excuse for one) would've stopped some of this.

As soon as we had exited the second last corner, people started sitting on. It was only myself, Helen, James and Diarmuid working hard. I was feeling super strong and was getting really excited. I was filling in every gap, taking two to three turns. I didn't want us to be caught. Again, I was gapping the shit out of everyone else on the drags. I didn't want to maintain the gap, as I needed the other to work with me.

Finish

I eased up to take a drink out of my bottle. All the other passed me, they knew the roundabout was coming up. Damien was trying to talk tactics with Helen. "No Fucking Tactics" I bellowed. My head was full of thought of winning. So I was pretty antsy to be with Diarmuid as we approached the roundabout. I was no where near his wheel. I slowed down, to get on the outside of the group. Then I smashed it to get with them. There was no gap to slide into, so I maintained my effort around the outside of the roundabout. The image below shows the finish.

I flew past all the others, my pinkies gripping the top of the hoods. The adrenaline was pumping now, I couldn't feel or hear anything. I wasn't really thinking. My legs were turning at 144rpm. I grabbed the drops and started shifting. I was also looking under to see what wheels were there. I could only see Diarmuid. If I took him to the line, he would beat me. But he had worked hard, so he would deserve it. If I stopped and we all started looking at each other, Johnny Scratch would catch us.

After cresting the first ride, Diarmuid passed me out, I took shelter behind him. I was really confident of my ability to ride them all off the wheel. My recent history of gapping them on the short drags would attest to this.

The second crest and I could just about see the people standing at the finish. I had tunnel vision at this point. I was going to win, pure and simple. On the descent, I drew level with Diarmuid. I mentally prepared myself to turn myself inside-out. At the bottom of the hill, I let out a little groan and as I mashed hard on the pedals. I kicked hard to try to get a gap and kept the pace as high as I could. I stayed seated in the saddle, as my sprinting is not great. This was like the last minute of a 20 minute interval on the Turbo, where I would be keeping my power from dropping.

100 meters to go, no one passing me. 50 meters to go, still no one. This was in the bag. 15 meters to go, I seen a wheel fly by me in my peripheral vision. "Fuck", seeing that it was Damien, who hadn't done so much work, I gestured my displeasure. I also eased up, James and Diarmuid also went past. 4th position.

Post Race

Dave had finished 5th, continuing his family's tradition of placing. Peadar had finished 6th. It would've been nice to see Helen get some points for the amount of work she put in, but alas bike racing is a harsh mistress.

I pulled in before where the rest of the group were patting each other on the back. I wanted to mourn my lost victory. After my moments of reflection, I noticed that my heart was pounding hard in my chest. I was a bit scared, but I could feel my left arm. The other group finished pretty soon afterwards.

I congratulated Damien on his race and went to claim my place. The video for the finish showed how tight James and Diarmuid were. James claimed second place on his first race. This was the first time Limit had stayed away since the first race in Brittas.

We had a nice ride back to the cars, I did some stretches so I wouldn't be stiff in the morning. On the drive home, I had the Dried Mango. It was really good, I nearly creamed my paints. I cooked the Tesco Sweet Potato fries to perfection for dinner. I was pretty gutted that I didn't win, but 4th place in a road race was still really good. So I was happy with my evening's adventures.

I'm pretty sure that I avoided an upgrade to Semi-Limit.

What Was Learned

• Don't get excited at guys not working,
• Don't gesture when you've been passed in the Sprint,
• Improve my sprinting. Mainly my transition from going hard in the saddle to a full gas sprint.

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 17: Mondello Crit 1 hour + 2 laps. Club Road Race Championship.

Long Story Short

• Had Gastroenteritis for two and a half days before the race,
• Not many people turned up, so it was Limit and Semi-Limit being chased by Scratch and Semi-Scratch,
• Did a fair bit of work,
• All the years of playing F1 games on the Playstation and Gamecube really payed off through two of the corners,
• Made an idiotic sprint before the catch,
• Lasted 58 minutes before getting dropped,
• Seen the finish,
• Well done to Conor and Helen, for winning their respective categories.

View the race on Strava: Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 17: Mondello 1hr+2laps. Limits vs. Scratches. Dropped after 58mins.

Strava Flybys Replay

The Strava Flybys Replay.

I enabled;

• Myself, for obvious reasons (token ginger),
• Eoin, as he started with the combined Limits groups and finished with the main group,
• Vladis, as he started with the combined Scratch groups and finished third.

Short Story Long

Build-up

Went to Kerry at the weekend, reckon I picked up some bacteria infection from a Chicken Pizza, Water or some Horse Shit on the Gap of Dunloe. Tallaght, Tuesday 21st of July, at 14:00, I was sitting at my desk contemplating the fate of the fly that was in my car in Tralee which I transported to Dublin, where was he now? Then I noticed that my stomach was in extreme distress. It was rock solid and really bloated. I was visiting the bathroom every 30 minutes. My commute home is 29 minutes, so this might be problematic, if some idiot decided to crash on the M50. Made it home just in time. Tried to go out for some pre-race efforts the next evening, stomach felt fine until I got to the garage on the Dublin side of Enniskerry.

A couple more nights and days where I wondered if Joy Division had written "Day of the Lords" about me; "...Nights full of bloodsport and pain... Where will it end?". Unable to eat much food, sleep long or trust a fart, this was now my reality. Just like every kid who stepped on a land mine and lived to face the hospital bills, what had I done to deserve this? I went to the chemist the next day and got some Pro-Biotics to combat the bacteria. I was also told to "eat small meals". The Yoga pose "Wind Remover", probably has some fancy name, came in really handy, thanks Sinead :P

Pre-Race

So there I was lying on the couch, bike looking sad on the balcony. What would, my childhood hero, Bill Cosby do?

Zippidy Zoo Zoo, Zoom around on the Biiicycle, then do do doo the Quaaludes.

Suck on them there pearls of wisdom, Plato, you hack. Bill, channelling his inner Freud, was right. I sipped down a slight overdose of the probiotic drink and packed two Caffeine Gels. I got everything ready and ventured to Mondello. I had only eaten 6 slices of toast and a few oven chips during the day.

I was the second person to arrive, I think the other guy saluted me, but I ran straight to the bathroom. Mondello have excellent toilet facilities. I unpacked the bike and went for a slow warmup ride. There was lots of little rabbits on the track. They were very scared of my Pedal Powered Panda. They had no need to be afraid at that stage, I wasn't going to get into Al Pacino mode for another 15 minutes. I went back to the car and went through my stretching routine. Then went to do my warm-up.

I ate the bar and consumed the two caffeine gels. I miscalculated the start time and instead of 10 minutes to recover from the warm-up, I had 40. I avoid the coffee in the office, and I'm pretty susceptible to caffeine. I spun around the carpark, staying close to the bathroom. I aided with Garrett's wheel conundrum, which stumped both he and the good doctor. Only four Limit riders signed on, six Semi-Limit bros. So it was decided to only have two groups. Team Limit would have a four minute head start over Team Scratch. I was feeling pretty confident, buoyed by Team Scratch's Stephen remembering how he was "dropped like a hot spud" at the last running of this circuit.

This was a Club Championship Race, we had enough number for a male race, but one short for the women's race. Which sucked because, spoiler alert, Helen and Aideen were mixing it with the big boys at the end.

Race

Team Limit, I was outside the barrier. Photo by Eugène.

We were off, I thought I was in a great position, but my foot wouldn't clip in. Straight down the back. I chilled out down there for a lap, and let my legs warm up, as they felt a bit wooden after sitting there for 40 minutes. There was a very narrow line taken into the third-last and last corners. I'd position myself on the outside for these and get the best line, where I could pedal as much as possible. As Dick said in the Corkagh Park Racing Intro session, "There should not be any freehubs sounding".

I moved up a bit on the straights, and was in perfect position to execute this plan the next time through that corner. I made up maybe ten positions there and bullied my way on to a wheel, Judah Ben-Hur style. This presented a new problem, as I was on the outside for the third last corner and on the inside for the last one. They were all taking this corner with the "as the crow flies" enthusiasm that I did on the Sega Megadrive 2, Christmas morning 1998. New plan, ping off the front every time through the third last corner and take the widest line through the last corner and hold a great position up the main straight. This pattern would continue for a long time.

Myself and Dan tried a little escape, but I ran out of steam, after tapping out my heart at 184bpm, and took a break down the back. Lots of people were putting in work on the front, notably Romano, Garrett, Eoin and JB. I was taking a few hard turns too. The Caffeine had flooded my senses and I was just riding having fun, completely forgetting my goal to finish with the front group.

Team Scratch, quaking in their aero shoe covers at the thought of reeling in the four minute gap. Photo by Eugène.

We were getting update on the time difference to Scratch group. They were taking about 30 seconds out of us per lap. When it got to 90 seconds, the guy on the Canyon called for the pace to be upped to 40km/h. But that didn't stem flow. We were way past fingers in dykes.

I was calling (read: shouting) for the up-and-overs to continue. My shouting skills were honed through years of helping my Dad on the farm with my brothers. Dan pinged off the front. I followed him, but got caught in nomansland after exploding. Two corners later I heard "on your left". Johnny Scratch was carving through my beloved Team Limit. 54 minutes had elapsed until the catch was made. Now it was squeaky bum time. I was still gassed from the failed bridging attempt to Dan. So I was recovering down the back. I hung in there for one lap, then...

Turn one, I was behind Ciara. Time froze. There was one last adenosine sized drop of caffeine in my system, I used it to deduce that my race was about to end. Going full SherLuke Homes (Robert Downey Jr. version), I noticed that her chain was too far down the block. She would need shift down, but that would require pedal strokes, pedal strokes she didn't have. We were on the inside of the corner, if she pedaled, she would clip the ground and cause a crash. I would need to come up the inside and close the widening gap into a headwind. Time resumed and like an OK-GO music video, the dominoes fell one by one. Game Over.

Sure I chased, and I chased hard. But I ended up exploding all over the track, think Richie Porte in the 2014 Tour De France.

I pulled up beside Ciara, and explained how we were dropped. That she needed to choose the gear to spin the shit out of to exit the corner before coasting into the corner. I gave her a demo and put about 15 meters into her using my Dr. Ferrari inspired method. Then she gave me a tow around the track and I pulled into the pits to retire and watch the finish.

Post-Race

Helen from Aideen and Ciara, Conor from Brian G and Vladis. Photo by Eugène.

My race ended prematurely, so I watched the Sprint finish. Fun times! Then my stomach cramped and I quickly exchanged my footwear, threw the bike in the back of the car and made a beeline for the toilets. Hitler wouldn't have been forced to resign, and move to South America, due to the large gas bill, if he had been in that cubicle with me.

I drove home pretty fast and ate my usual post race pizza. Only remembering at the last bite that the lady in the chemist had told me to "eat small meals", suffice to say then next 12 hours were excruciating. My anus was not this sore since the drive home from the Wicklow 200.

Power Curve-wise, I was no where near any of the numbers I recorded during this year. I spent 13.5 minutes in Z6 and Z7 combined and 25 minutes above Z4, so it was a pretty good workout. Heart rate-wise I spent 52 minutes above Z4.

I was disappointed that I didn't finished with the front group, but with the illness I think it was a fair result. Had I hid in the bunch and not done any work, then got dropped, I'd be pretty upset.

What Was Learned

• Bully my way onto wheels when Johnny Scratch is putting the hammer down,
• Don't race like an idiot,
• Don't eat a full pizza when you have a messed up digestive system.

reade more... Résuméabuiyad

Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 15: 25M TT Club Championships

Long Story Short

• Finished with a time of 1:06:29,
• Averaged 36.2km/h and 184 Watts,
• I ranked 3rd out of 12 in the Limit Classification,
• And 26th out of 38 overall.

View the ride on Strava: Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 15: 25M TT - 1:06:29. Limit: 3/12. Overall: 26/38.

Short Story Long

Build-up

I got my Specialized Evade from Base2Race. I got the last White size Medium from their suppliers, so I was pretty happy about that. It's pretty good when you're going fast. But when you're going slow, the helmet sits low on the forehead and the sweat builds on the forehead then keeps leaking down your nose and into your mouth. But it keeps your head dry in the wet. I think it will be good in the Autumn and Winter.

The Evade is not good at forehead sweat dispensation. Dripping into my mouth is was. Could also have to do with the mist though.

A photo posted by Luke GJ Potter (@lukegjpotter) on Jul 1, 2015 at 11:47am PDT

I took a run at the course on the Saturday beforehand. I had planned to do two runs at it, but ended up only doing one, as it was fairly hard going and I just wanted to go home and do some drinking as my buddies from Athlone were up. I also took the opportunity to get a car wash from a guy past Batterstown. But I felt that the practice run was good input into the plan for the day. Keith on Strava, who recorded a sub-60 on the course, said to drill it on the way out and minimise losses on the way back.

I had been using the TT bars a lot in the build-up. Muscle adaptations need time to form to enable going fast in the TT position.

Pre-Race

The posts here, have been very helpful in allowing me to discern what works, and what doesn't in the day of the race.

I weighed in at 68kg that morning. I had been eating well that week, Green Drinks and Vegetarian options at lunch in work. At 16:30, I started eating my regular John West Tuna Steampot and two Bananas. The guys on my team were playing Table Tennis, so no one was having a period about the smell of the food. I watched the end of the Tour de France on CyclingHub, it was the third day in a row that I had to watch the stream in Italian. I got changed into my kit and was on the road at 17:20.

I got up to Black Bull very early, at 17:45. I got everything ready. The main point of today was to avoid the mistakes of the previous 10M TT. Namely not knowing the distance remaining and taking a piss just before my start time. I had a nightmare, regarding pissing time and TT start time, at the 10M TT in the weeks prior.

I created a new page on my Garmin for the TT. It displayed Power Zone, Cadence, Lap Time, Lap Distance and Lap Average Speed. I don't know that the Average Speed reading was doing on there, as average speed means fuck all at the end of the day.

I went for a ride to the train tracks and back to the car. Started my stretching routine. I rode up the road and did five one minute intervals, and then a three and a five minute interval. I got my number and ate a third banana just before the five minute interval. Warm-up on Strava. I didn't notice any wind on the road.

I went back to the car to drop off some stuff. Swap over to my 500ml bottle. I had a Caffeine gel. I antagonised about removing the arm warmers, I ended up doing so, despite the rain. With the helmet, gloves and zipped up jersey, I'd be baking. Plus the rain in the east side of the country is basically just a drizzle. In the 54 weeks I'd lived up here, it's only rained hard twice.

I hadn't seen Barry so far the evening, I wondered if he would not show up. The car was parked under a flight path, and there was a familiar tunneling drone being registered in my eardrums. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? No, it was Barry's disk wheel passing me. Best case scenario, second place for me tonight.

I arrived at the start line with ten minutes to spare. I took this time to take my third slash of the evening, safety in numbers. I had another gel, dried my forehead and I was ready to rock. Younger Luke was released, Diarmuid followed. My minute man didn't show up. I ensured my bike was in the 50-21, so I could drill it off the line. I was much more confident in the guy holding me this week. The fingers on the hand in front of me disappeared.

Race

Outward Leg

I was off. Out of the saddle, I sprinted hard to get my speed up. Very quickly, I was up to 40km/h. I sat in the saddle and got onto the areobars. BEEP! My Garmin was telling me that my power had dipped out of Zone 4. Pedal hard and gear up. I spent a lot of time in the last three cogs at the bottom of the block. My legs didn't go weak, like the last time.

I don't remember all the that much. It felt like three minutes. Lots of my Garmin beeping at me and me shifting gears. I started to wonder when I would see the guys in front of me, and the people on the return leg. At the first roundabout, I didn't slow that much. I stayed in the aerobars and kept pedaling.

On a long straight I caught sight of Diarmuid. The other participants started to appear as they made their way back from Trim. The helmet was not absorbing the sweat anymore, and it was drizzling, which added to the stream of sweat flowing into my right eyeball and mouth. My glasses were starting to fog a bit too. Of the people coming towards me, I could make out Helen's orange lenses and Ann's Yellow-y Neon frames. They had passed their cousin and Ann was about to lay the law down in the sibling rivalry.

Maybe my depth perception was effected, due to the sweat in my right eye, but Diarmuid was getting closer. As we approached the second roundabout, I could see him take an absolute shocker of a line through the 360 degree turn. When I got onto the roundabout, I discovered why his line was so bad. It hadn't rained in Dublin for a long few days, so the surface was really slippery. The marshals were saying "turn". I was 270 degrees around the roundabout and I was shouting "turn, turn, turn". I'm pretty sure that my subconscious was already picking a nice area to land, if I clipped the kerb.

I averaged 39.0km/h on the outward leg.

Return Leg

I pulled the bike around just in time to see Barry entering the roundabout. I shouted "Slow down Barry", hoping that he would listen. I sprinted out of the corner. Diarmuid firmly in my sights. I was now noticing a slight head wind. Barry jetted past me, then he passed Diarmuid quickly after that. After a small battle, where I passed him, and he passed me (whilst riding on the hoods), Diarmuid accepted my advances. I gained two mintues on him.

Next on the radar was Younger Luke. I could see him in the distance. Climbing a hill out of the saddle. He, unlike Diarmuid went quietly. Just before the roundabout. Plus Three minutes. The roundabout was clear again. Luke destroyed me on the Sally Gap race, by about eleven minutes.

I was noticing the kilometers ticking upwards to 40.1km. My under-carriage was going painfully numb, so I got out of the saddle to crest the three bumps on the run from the third roundabout to the line. I was unable to get the power into Z4 for the run from Batterstown to the finish. I passed the dead fox, and tried to keep going hard to the line. I shouted out my number as I crossed the line.

I averaged 34.4km/h on the return leg.

Post Race

There was a gathering  of people on the grassy area beside the line. I rolled over. Everyone was slowly discussing what times they got. Colin, who I was marshaling with last week, rolled over the line very soon after I did. He was very close to catching me.

Stephen coasted over to the grassy area, asking for help to get off his bike. I held him upright. His new Tarmac felt really light. He looked like he needed a priest. Stay away from the light Stephen, I though.

There was some more chat. I recovered pretty quickly from the effort. Evidently I had not gone hard enough. I went back to the car and did some stretching. After the last TT, I didn't stretch. I had a very difficult few hours the next morning.

After looking at the data on Strava, I was not as happy as I might have been. 186 Watts was nowhere near my Z4 starting Wattage (206 W).

The results were posted on the forum, I had finished 3rd of 12 in Limit, and 26th of 38 overall.

1st Roger    1:04:28.05
2nd Barry     + 0:00.74
3rd Luke      + 2:01
4th Stephen H + 2:20
5th Ann       + 3:14
6th Brianne   + 4:04

Barry had beaten me in the 10M TT by 30 seconds, and I had beaten Rodger by 5 seconds. I'm still leading Limit classification by one point from Barry. Sickener for Barry, missing out on first place. But in reality Fergal (Limit 25M TT winner last two years) and Sean (winner of the 10M TT) were missing from the event, so I'm not going on an open top bus tour to celebrate my 3rd place.

I drank another two liters of water and ate a pack of graphes before I went to sleep. My post-race pizza was not on the menu this week.

What was Learned

• I need to lower the nose of my saddle for TT efforts.
• I need to do another FTP test and not be afraid of the numbers being lower than February. British cycling have some training plans on their site that I should follow.

reade more... Résuméabuiyad