Faster at 50: Hard Work and a Win at the Season Opener

Faster at 50: Hard Work and a Win at the Season Opener

I am not really one for birthdays, New Year’s resolutions or regrets, but as 2020 came to a close I sat down to plan my racing and training for 2021.  After a couple of unsettled years with barely any racing, I decided I wanted to be faster at 50.  I created a plan, committed it to a spreadsheet and held myself accountable as I ticked off the workouts.

Colorado racing is hard.  There are a lot of fast athletes here and I struggled with altitude for the first year after moving from California.  I decided early in the year that I would downgrade to category 4.  I had never been competitive as a cat 3 racer and I was losing the enjoyment I used to get from racing.  I wanted to have a chance of being competitive and these Colorado men are no joke.

The Cobb Lake Road Race takes place outside of Fort Collins on a simple four corner 8 mile course, with one leg on a gravel road and one small climb to the finish.  I had targeted this race for its lack of climbing and exposure to the wind which often blows hard in Spring on the plains.  I hoped this would be a little like my favorite race from back East, the Trooper David Brinkerhoff Memorial – also an early season race where cold weather and winds can add to the race dynamics.

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My training had been going well.  The only issue with my preparation was that I had received my second COVID vaccine shot two days before the race.  My wife felt sick for two full days after the shot.  I made sure I drank plenty of water and scheduled absolutely nothing for the day prior to the race.  I felt tired but experienced no fever.  I spent most of the day watching Netflix – I was even zonked enough to watch my wife’s entire Zwift race that morning!  By Saturday evening I felt 100% and went to bed early with the alarm set for 5am in order to have plenty of time to prepare for the 8am start.  It turned out I rested so well that I was wide awake at 3 am.  I knew I wasn’t going back to sleep, so I got up, baked some bread and watched the Women’s Amstel Gold race until it was time to go. 

It was a chilly 33 degrees when we set off for the neutral start.  I had told myself I would sit in, be patient and see how the race played out.  I tell myself lies.  I know what I should do, but if I was honest, I knew I wanted to race and for me that means working hard and getting into a break.  Less than three miles in, I went to the front to increase the pace and take the lead into the gravel section for the first time.  I hadn’t seen the surface, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I wanted my choice of line and full vision of any bumps or potholes.  It was nothing to be concerned about.  I put in a few small attacks as we headed south past the finish line the first time. I was trying to coax out someone to ride off the front with me but didn’t get any takers.  I sat back in.

As we made our way back along the flat and exposed northbound leg, the headwind had picked up and a couple of riders were hanging off the front, but it wasn’t organized.  I bridged across, but we had no more than five seconds on the peloton. Another rider joined and we started to work together.  By the time we passed the finish line, we had a thirty second gap and were committed.  Three laps to go.

We worked well together, pushing hard into the wind which was gaining in strength with each lap.  I love riding in the wind like some people love climbing.  I knew the cross winds would play to my strength as a bigger rider and the tailwind was going to help push me up that final climb.  The moto pulled up beside us after we went through the finish line again.  We had a two-minute gap with two laps to go.  We had dropped one rider and now we were three.

It was clear that one of our group was struggling and I knew who my competition for the win was.  By the start of the last lap we were down to two riders and I started to think about how to win.  The moto confirmed we still had at least a two-minute gap.  My remaining breakaway companion was a strong rider and rode a lot like me – prepared to do more work than he should.  My mind started to tell me that second would still be a good result.  I resisted that temptation and told myself I could win.

There were four 90 degree corners on that 8 mile circuit and he had struggled with each of them, especially the last one before the 500 meters to the finish line coming off the gravel. My plan was to take advantage of his slow cornering and get a jump on him into the final 500 meters.   As we headed into the head wind for the last time, I did a little less work and let him pull a little longer.  I needed all the help I could get as we headed towards the inevitable two up sprint.

I swung off the front before we turned for the last time onto the gravel road, hoping to have him lead me on that crosswind section.  He dutifully took the lead and stayed there for the next mile, allowing me to rest a little until we hit the final corner.  He was strong and I really had to dig deep to hold his wheel on the little kicker just before the final corner.  I told myself I could win.  I told myself I can sprint.

This time he figured out the turn and made it through smoothly.  I didn’t get the jump on him I was hoping for.  Instead, I stuck to his wheel as we started the final upward stretch to the finish line.  I pulled alongside him with maybe 200 meters to go.  We grinded it out, pedal stroke to pedal stroke.  It wasn’t a sprint - I am sure I was seated and on the hoods.  I pulled away slightly, but I was expecting that he would come by me at any moment.  In the end I got there by maybe a bike length.

We congratulated each other, introduced ourselves, smiled at the fun we had just had and relived the key moments of the race.  Racing hard and escaping the peloton is how we both liked to race. Four months of five a.m. TrainerRoad workouts was worth it.  It felt good to be enjoying racing.  It felt good to be faster at 50.

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