Loss of innocence
Well, people race their bikes here really fast. It's pretty exciting to roll up to the town for the start of the race and see the other 15 teams preparing themselves; it's quite a spectacle and I think it's meant to be. Everything from the 25 police cars lined up one the sidewalk, complete with Guardia Civil in their high boots and aviator glasses, and then the large stage blaring music you might find on a 7th grade girl's iPod, and the Coca Cola and Powerade stands giving out their products to racers.
My team's director is about 75 years old; the distinct difference between his white-knuckle car driving and our breakneak bicycle racing makes sitting in the backseat tough for all of us, especially as he gets us lost for the third time on the way to the race. At least the scenery is beautiful.
A few notes from the race. My goal was to stay in the main pack if I could and not get dropped by enough time to be cut from the race. To do this, you have to try and stay in the middle of the pack: the back is for the people attacking and the teammates defending, the back is a no-man's land where you suffer from the extreme whiplash and rubber band effect of every corner, every rotunda, every speedbump as people slow up, sprint ahead, swerve, and bunny hop over obstacles. In other words, the probability of something bad happening increases exponentially the farther you are from the front. And there are plenty of bad things happening as water bottles explode the moment they fall from someone´s hands onto the ground, or the green traffic dividers that come before rotundas...
I had a pretty good time trying to stay out of the wind, and I took advantage of a few dozen good moments to move up a few dozen guys throughout the race. I saw the Cuban a few times, cool as a cucumber. I was right behind him, saw him move into the wind and get up to maybe 30th position. So I folled suit, but quickly realized how fricking strong he must be to be able to move in the wind at that speed with such ease and carelessness.
If you check out the profile, you see a few ripples. These are small hills, but good god we were flying up them and they didn't feel so little. I'd be hammering, sprinting, looking down at my legs hoping there was more, and I'd look up to see a hundred guys in single file with painfaces going around the next corner. I lasted through most of the hills, but broke with a handful of other guys before the end of the ripples, and we worked together to the end.
People race their bikes here really fast, but at least I survived to see another day. In case you can have software to see power files, here´s the download from today... power file
I had a chance to look around a bit more today. Our hotel is in the city of Torrevieja, overlooking the Mediterranean. There's a dock with a few hundred sailboats and beautiful empty beaches. I'll try and take some pictures, but I am preoccupied by fear and nerves for tomorrow's stage, which promises to be one of the hardest days of my life. If I'm not with a fairly large group at the top of the first climb, I am pulled from the race. If I survive past that, but finish after 119% of the winner's time, I'm pulled from the race. It's gonna be grueling to say the least.
My team's director is about 75 years old; the distinct difference between his white-knuckle car driving and our breakneak bicycle racing makes sitting in the backseat tough for all of us, especially as he gets us lost for the third time on the way to the race. At least the scenery is beautiful.
A few notes from the race. My goal was to stay in the main pack if I could and not get dropped by enough time to be cut from the race. To do this, you have to try and stay in the middle of the pack: the back is for the people attacking and the teammates defending, the back is a no-man's land where you suffer from the extreme whiplash and rubber band effect of every corner, every rotunda, every speedbump as people slow up, sprint ahead, swerve, and bunny hop over obstacles. In other words, the probability of something bad happening increases exponentially the farther you are from the front. And there are plenty of bad things happening as water bottles explode the moment they fall from someone´s hands onto the ground, or the green traffic dividers that come before rotundas...
I had a pretty good time trying to stay out of the wind, and I took advantage of a few dozen good moments to move up a few dozen guys throughout the race. I saw the Cuban a few times, cool as a cucumber. I was right behind him, saw him move into the wind and get up to maybe 30th position. So I folled suit, but quickly realized how fricking strong he must be to be able to move in the wind at that speed with such ease and carelessness.
If you check out the profile, you see a few ripples. These are small hills, but good god we were flying up them and they didn't feel so little. I'd be hammering, sprinting, looking down at my legs hoping there was more, and I'd look up to see a hundred guys in single file with painfaces going around the next corner. I lasted through most of the hills, but broke with a handful of other guys before the end of the ripples, and we worked together to the end.
People race their bikes here really fast, but at least I survived to see another day. In case you can have software to see power files, here´s the download from today... power file
I had a chance to look around a bit more today. Our hotel is in the city of Torrevieja, overlooking the Mediterranean. There's a dock with a few hundred sailboats and beautiful empty beaches. I'll try and take some pictures, but I am preoccupied by fear and nerves for tomorrow's stage, which promises to be one of the hardest days of my life. If I'm not with a fairly large group at the top of the first climb, I am pulled from the race. If I survive past that, but finish after 119% of the winner's time, I'm pulled from the race. It's gonna be grueling to say the least.
posted by Unknown at 9:59 AM
1 Comments:
Torreviaja translates to "old tower"...is there one? Looking forward to more race coverage...keep up the good work!
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