A battle of attrition
This road race was described to us as a battle of attrition: 6 laps of 13 miles and 1300ft of climbing each. Brutal. You either got it or you don't.
One way to test this? If you have huge guts, you do what Sam did: try an early break only 1.5 laps in, all by yourself, and hold it as long as you can. I got to play defense this week, matching a few moves here and there and generally slowing the chase pack when I could.
Well, not everyone wanted to let him go quite so easily. Kyle Barbary from Berkeley (who went to Harvey Mudd a few years ago) decided to single-handedly hammer at the front of the pack for the entire fourth lap and drop most the field on the climb. Only one other guy and myself were able to stay on his wheel. I chose not to take my turn into the wind, however, since I had Sam out in front, and there is no expectation for someone to chase his own teammate down. At this point, bystanders told us Sam had 5 MINUTES on the entire field. Pretty gigantic, and it seemed like it was gaining. Most everyone agrees: out of sight, out of mind.
But Kyle kept hammering, and just as I thought it was safe to help this break stay away since Sam had it wrapped up, I saw Sam sitting up, super tired from 3 laps all by himself. I was bummed because I knew it would be a big order for him to stay with us at the high pace after so much time solo. I was right, but there is a lot of respect given to someone willing to try it alone for so long.
The fifth lap the three of us hammered together, taking our turns into the wind, a few accelerations here and there, and slowly the legs feel more and more dead. They feel as if the muscle you used to be able to use is now just extra weight, unable to fire, no longer controlled by the nervous system. Somehow, just before the beginning of the sixth lap, Kyle looked back at me like Lance looked at Ullrich, and sensed this. With a few switches of the gears he stood up and pounded the pedals for a few minutes, got a quick gap which I held for a few moments, but then I was too far in the red and had to let him go. And then he went and kept going. In the process we had broken the third guy. So we were all by ourselves for the third lap (which is quite hard and demoralizing - just a sneek peek at Sam's day). I was able to hold on for second.
I've thought a lot about that moment when he attacked. At some point, your mind switches into a mode of defense instead of offense, of deciding that you need to be conservative just to finish instead of go everything. Knowing that point where you body can take more is so key, and that's where the experience that Kyle has becomes so crucial.
So today was awesome because I kicked a lot of ass, but also got my ass kicked in the process.
One way to test this? If you have huge guts, you do what Sam did: try an early break only 1.5 laps in, all by yourself, and hold it as long as you can. I got to play defense this week, matching a few moves here and there and generally slowing the chase pack when I could.
Well, not everyone wanted to let him go quite so easily. Kyle Barbary from Berkeley (who went to Harvey Mudd a few years ago) decided to single-handedly hammer at the front of the pack for the entire fourth lap and drop most the field on the climb. Only one other guy and myself were able to stay on his wheel. I chose not to take my turn into the wind, however, since I had Sam out in front, and there is no expectation for someone to chase his own teammate down. At this point, bystanders told us Sam had 5 MINUTES on the entire field. Pretty gigantic, and it seemed like it was gaining. Most everyone agrees: out of sight, out of mind.
But Kyle kept hammering, and just as I thought it was safe to help this break stay away since Sam had it wrapped up, I saw Sam sitting up, super tired from 3 laps all by himself. I was bummed because I knew it would be a big order for him to stay with us at the high pace after so much time solo. I was right, but there is a lot of respect given to someone willing to try it alone for so long.
The fifth lap the three of us hammered together, taking our turns into the wind, a few accelerations here and there, and slowly the legs feel more and more dead. They feel as if the muscle you used to be able to use is now just extra weight, unable to fire, no longer controlled by the nervous system. Somehow, just before the beginning of the sixth lap, Kyle looked back at me like Lance looked at Ullrich, and sensed this. With a few switches of the gears he stood up and pounded the pedals for a few minutes, got a quick gap which I held for a few moments, but then I was too far in the red and had to let him go. And then he went and kept going. In the process we had broken the third guy. So we were all by ourselves for the third lap (which is quite hard and demoralizing - just a sneek peek at Sam's day). I was able to hold on for second.
I've thought a lot about that moment when he attacked. At some point, your mind switches into a mode of defense instead of offense, of deciding that you need to be conservative just to finish instead of go everything. Knowing that point where you body can take more is so key, and that's where the experience that Kyle has becomes so crucial.
So today was awesome because I kicked a lot of ass, but also got my ass kicked in the process.
posted by Unknown at 8:25 AM
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