By Ed Price
I raced the Northern California/Nevada District Criterium Championships held on September 1st, 2013 at an industrial park in Pleasanton in the 55-59 age group. I was the last "official" finisher in 18th place, out of around 30 who started the race.
On Saturday, I decided to race the District Criterium Championships the following day. Pleasanton is a short drive and my race (55-59) started late morning (11:00 am). Because I missed the Dunningan Hills and San Ardo road races in mid-August with a nasty flu, it was my last shot at racing this year.
This was the same course used two years ago for the district criterium championships, although back then the race was held in early May instead of early September. What a difference 16 weeks makes on attendance. When the race was held in early May, my field hit the 100-man limit, but this time there were only around 30 riders. The course was a .very fast 0.9 mile, clockwise, three corner affair with wide roads, and excellent pavement.
My training was going reasonably well in June and July, I was pointing for the Dunningan Hills RR and the San Ardo RR in mid August when a nasty flu hit me hard a few days before Dunningan Hills. I haven't missed Dunningan Hills in seven years or San Ardo in 18 years, but I missed both of them this year.
This left only a few weeks to regain some strength and even though I wasn't even close to being at my best, I went anyway.
My race was a 50 minute timed effort. Lapped riders would be pulled. I was hoping to make it to the 15 or 20 minute mark before being pulled. Then I saw Larry Nolan at the starting line and my confidence fell like a lead balloon, heck I might last only ten minutes.
The race started fast but quickly settled down to a manageable 24 to 25 miles per hour average. Larry Nolan was at the back of the race reminiscing with me about the good old days of cycling. We chatted and laughed and commiserated until someone in the peleton told us to "put a sock in it" because they were losing their concentration.
Maybe Larry Nolan was not in shape, or over-trained, or under-trained, or, as it turned out, simply waiting for one decisive, all-out attack to the finish. I was feeling OK at 10 minutes, at 15 minutes, at 20 minutes and even at 25 minutes. I thought I might make it the whole way.
However, right around the 30 minute mark, Larry Nolan attacked from the very back of the group. I was right there, in perfect position to take his wheel, which I did, for about two seconds! Then he was gone, up the road and gaining distance with every pedal stroke. First, the pack strung out in a long single file as everyone tried to grab Larry's wheel, to no avail, then gaps started to open up. I found myself on a wheel that was gaped, went around but couldn't get back to the main group.
I had 20 minutes to avoid being lapped or I would be pulled from the race. I rode as hard as I could with two other riders until they dropped off, and then rode on alone. I was still averaging around 24 to 25 miles per hour when Larry Nolan lapped me so fast I couldn't believe it, he was riding 30 miles per hour and didn't look like he was slowing in the least.
The main field caught me at minute 42 and I was pulled from the race with eight minutes to go. Larry Nolan eventually caught the field, rode right by them, and no one could grab his wheel. He averaged 29.7 miles per hour for the last 20 minutes of the race. The guy is in a different class that the rest of us and I am thankful he didn't decide to attack from the start or my race would have been a very short affair.
Eddy Price
Showing posts with label Eddy Price. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Eddy Price. Show all posts
Friday, September 27, 2013
Monday, April 9, 2012
Lost Hills Road Race, 3/31/2012
By Eddy Price
"Eddy, you have to wake up, it's 4:15 a.m. and you told Jim Moran you would meet him at 4:30 in Aptos to drive him to a bike race at Lost Hills... remember" my wife shouted in my ear very early Saturday morning as I lay in a deep sleep. It took a few seconds for my brain to process what she had said.
Then I remembered, Jim Moran, my good friend, personal training client and new member of our club-team and I were driving to the Lost Hills Road Race near Bakersfield. Our race started at 9:00 am, it was a three-hour drive, so we had to leave Aptos at 4:30 a.m. to get there by 7:30 a.m. and I had promised to drive Jim in my truck.
I hate early mornings. Normally I wake up between 8:00 and 8:30 am and I stay in bed until I can't keep my eyes closed anymore, which might be up to 45 minutes, or around 9:15 a.m., but 12 to 15 times a year I awake very early in the morning, long before the sun rises, to drive several hours to compete in a bike race in some distant part of Northern California.
My alarm, set for 3:30 a.m. either hadn't gone off or I had slept right through it, but within ten minutes I had dressed, gulped down a cup of coffee, made one cup for the road, inhaled a bowl of oatmeal, packed my cycling clothes, and loaded the truck, arriving only four minutes late in Aptos where Jim and I had arranged to meet.
This was to be Jim Morans first road race and I had been on the lookout for flat road races as a gentle introduction to the sport. I didn't want Jim's first experience to be next week's race at Copperopolis, where the road is flat and smooth for only 50 yards before the route turns left, enters the "pave" and tackles an eleven hundred foot climb.
Jim called me three years ago to start a weight-training program, spotting my name on our team's website and finding my phone number in the yellow pages under my personal training ad. Jim was turning 60 soon and wanted to get in better shape, so his birthday present to himself was six months of personal training sessions with me at my studio in Aptos. We progressed from the gym to weekly training sessions on the bike and last year Jim took the plunge, reading everything he could on training (Chris Carmichael's book was our Bible), watching everything he could find about cycling on YouTube, purchasing a new Cervelo bicycle, competing in the Swanton Time Trial Series and, the final step every male takes towards being a competitive cyclist, shaving his legs.
We arrived at Lost Hills at 7:35 a.m. There was no rain, but it was very windy. Because of the low turnout, they combined the 45+ Cat 4, 45+ Cat 5, Women, and Open Cat 5 together, which amounted to about 30 riders total. The course was a four-corner, 27-mile rectangle around the oil fields of Lost Hills on dead flat roads with very long uninterrupted stretches, as far as you could see, and a four-mile section of dirt road directly into a 30 mile per hour headwind thrown in for good measure.
The race started very fast with a nasty wind from the left. Naturally, the riders at the front stayed as far to the right as possible, so that those behind wouldn't have much shelter from the wind. The only place where I felt a tiny bit of protection from the 30-mile per hour wind was as far to the right as I could possibly ride, so that is where I tried to stay. The problem was the road had zero shoulder and a rough "edge" and frequently I would end up in the dirt for a few seconds, putting my cross skills to the test, but endangering no one because I was riding in last place. The other problem was that every one wanted to ride to the right of the rider in front of them and with 30 riders, this wasn't possible.
I was riding in last place, suffering like a dog and wondering why in the heck I thought this would be an easy introduction to road racing. I rode at the back for the first four miles until I had to start to close gaps that would open in front of me. The third time this happened, I got "mad," not at the rider opening the gap, he was doing the best he could, I became mad at myself for not being more proactive.
So, I moved left of the group all the way to the center-line and motored up to the front of the group, settling in to forth place. Funny thing, the wind was no worse riding to the left of the group than riding as directly behind the group. Near the front, the draft wasn't any better, but at least I wouldn't have to come around the rider in front of me when he cracked and fell off the pace-line.
I eventually cracked right before the 9-mile tailwind section of the course. At that point there were only four riders in front of me. I kept them in sight until we turned right, hitting 36 miles per hour aided by a wind of equal speed. The headwind leg of the course began with a three-mile section of dirt road, dropping my speed to 10 miles per hour and the four in front of me pulled away slowly.
When I crossed the finish line with one lap still to go, I almost quit. The wind was at its strongest, I was riding 8 miles per hour pedaling a 34 x 23 gear combination and wasn't sure I could manage another lap. Thankfully, the wind died down to a relatively calm 20 miles per hour and I started to feel better. I held 5th place the whole second lap, riding 68 miles in 3 hours 15 minutes. I was so tired that I was barely able to ride the three miles back to my car from the finish line. I even had to close one eye because I was seeing double and it wouldn't go away.
Jim Moran finished only ten minutes behind me, placing a fine 7th in the 45+ Cat 5 race. It was remarkable considering he was gapped within the first few miles, but he rode strongly, eventually catching a rider from Oakland and they rode together for quite some time. Jim even had the smarts to wait for him several times because he knew they could make much better time working together, but eventually he rode away from him.
I purposely didn't enter the 55+, thinking it was too hard a category, but I would have won because there was only one rider in the group and he finished behind me. Still, 5th place is my highest ranking in several years, and along with my 6th place the week before at the Salinas Criterium, it means that I won two tee shirts on two consecutive weekends. All that pain and suffering for two tee shirts. Yes, I know it sounds crazy and maybe it is, but it keeps me sane.
Ed Price
"Eddy, you have to wake up, it's 4:15 a.m. and you told Jim Moran you would meet him at 4:30 in Aptos to drive him to a bike race at Lost Hills... remember" my wife shouted in my ear very early Saturday morning as I lay in a deep sleep. It took a few seconds for my brain to process what she had said.
Then I remembered, Jim Moran, my good friend, personal training client and new member of our club-team and I were driving to the Lost Hills Road Race near Bakersfield. Our race started at 9:00 am, it was a three-hour drive, so we had to leave Aptos at 4:30 a.m. to get there by 7:30 a.m. and I had promised to drive Jim in my truck.
I hate early mornings. Normally I wake up between 8:00 and 8:30 am and I stay in bed until I can't keep my eyes closed anymore, which might be up to 45 minutes, or around 9:15 a.m., but 12 to 15 times a year I awake very early in the morning, long before the sun rises, to drive several hours to compete in a bike race in some distant part of Northern California.
My alarm, set for 3:30 a.m. either hadn't gone off or I had slept right through it, but within ten minutes I had dressed, gulped down a cup of coffee, made one cup for the road, inhaled a bowl of oatmeal, packed my cycling clothes, and loaded the truck, arriving only four minutes late in Aptos where Jim and I had arranged to meet.
This was to be Jim Morans first road race and I had been on the lookout for flat road races as a gentle introduction to the sport. I didn't want Jim's first experience to be next week's race at Copperopolis, where the road is flat and smooth for only 50 yards before the route turns left, enters the "pave" and tackles an eleven hundred foot climb.
Jim called me three years ago to start a weight-training program, spotting my name on our team's website and finding my phone number in the yellow pages under my personal training ad. Jim was turning 60 soon and wanted to get in better shape, so his birthday present to himself was six months of personal training sessions with me at my studio in Aptos. We progressed from the gym to weekly training sessions on the bike and last year Jim took the plunge, reading everything he could on training (Chris Carmichael's book was our Bible), watching everything he could find about cycling on YouTube, purchasing a new Cervelo bicycle, competing in the Swanton Time Trial Series and, the final step every male takes towards being a competitive cyclist, shaving his legs.
We arrived at Lost Hills at 7:35 a.m. There was no rain, but it was very windy. Because of the low turnout, they combined the 45+ Cat 4, 45+ Cat 5, Women, and Open Cat 5 together, which amounted to about 30 riders total. The course was a four-corner, 27-mile rectangle around the oil fields of Lost Hills on dead flat roads with very long uninterrupted stretches, as far as you could see, and a four-mile section of dirt road directly into a 30 mile per hour headwind thrown in for good measure.
The race started very fast with a nasty wind from the left. Naturally, the riders at the front stayed as far to the right as possible, so that those behind wouldn't have much shelter from the wind. The only place where I felt a tiny bit of protection from the 30-mile per hour wind was as far to the right as I could possibly ride, so that is where I tried to stay. The problem was the road had zero shoulder and a rough "edge" and frequently I would end up in the dirt for a few seconds, putting my cross skills to the test, but endangering no one because I was riding in last place. The other problem was that every one wanted to ride to the right of the rider in front of them and with 30 riders, this wasn't possible.
I was riding in last place, suffering like a dog and wondering why in the heck I thought this would be an easy introduction to road racing. I rode at the back for the first four miles until I had to start to close gaps that would open in front of me. The third time this happened, I got "mad," not at the rider opening the gap, he was doing the best he could, I became mad at myself for not being more proactive.
So, I moved left of the group all the way to the center-line and motored up to the front of the group, settling in to forth place. Funny thing, the wind was no worse riding to the left of the group than riding as directly behind the group. Near the front, the draft wasn't any better, but at least I wouldn't have to come around the rider in front of me when he cracked and fell off the pace-line.
I eventually cracked right before the 9-mile tailwind section of the course. At that point there were only four riders in front of me. I kept them in sight until we turned right, hitting 36 miles per hour aided by a wind of equal speed. The headwind leg of the course began with a three-mile section of dirt road, dropping my speed to 10 miles per hour and the four in front of me pulled away slowly.
When I crossed the finish line with one lap still to go, I almost quit. The wind was at its strongest, I was riding 8 miles per hour pedaling a 34 x 23 gear combination and wasn't sure I could manage another lap. Thankfully, the wind died down to a relatively calm 20 miles per hour and I started to feel better. I held 5th place the whole second lap, riding 68 miles in 3 hours 15 minutes. I was so tired that I was barely able to ride the three miles back to my car from the finish line. I even had to close one eye because I was seeing double and it wouldn't go away.
Jim Moran finished only ten minutes behind me, placing a fine 7th in the 45+ Cat 5 race. It was remarkable considering he was gapped within the first few miles, but he rode strongly, eventually catching a rider from Oakland and they rode together for quite some time. Jim even had the smarts to wait for him several times because he knew they could make much better time working together, but eventually he rode away from him.
I purposely didn't enter the 55+, thinking it was too hard a category, but I would have won because there was only one rider in the group and he finished behind me. Still, 5th place is my highest ranking in several years, and along with my 6th place the week before at the Salinas Criterium, it means that I won two tee shirts on two consecutive weekends. All that pain and suffering for two tee shirts. Yes, I know it sounds crazy and maybe it is, but it keeps me sane.
Ed Price
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Cantua Creek Road Race, 45+ 4
By Eddy Price
Sixth place last Saturday at the Cantua Creek Road race in the 45+ Cat 4 race was a real surprise, as I was hoping for a top 15 or 20 at best.
I haven't formally trained on my road bike more than four or five times in the past six weeks because of moving (Jan 1st) and then putting in 70+ hour work weeks to get caught up on all the work I neglected during the move.
I thought about not racing at Cantua Creek, that maybe I should hold off on racing until I have put in some long training rides, solo intervals, roller intervals and some Sunday group rides but I decided the best thing to do would be to race. So instead of training hard, I took two days completely off the bike right before the race, Wednesday and Thursday and rode the rollers for 45 minutes Friday. My legs felt fresh for the first time in months.
My only goal was to make it to the final finishing hill with the main group but beyond that, I had no aspirations of anything special. To be honest, I have been commuting everywhere on my mountain bike, road bike and electric bike, sometimes up to 20 hours in a week. In addition, because I am always cutting it close for my appointments, I usually have to hammer pretty hard to get there on time.
I wanted to help Bob and Joe podium, but I wasn't sure if that was even possible. To that end, I took a flyer just past the first turn-around and stayed away for about a couple of miles, hoping to force the other teams to chase me and give Joe and Bob a free ride. I could see them blocking at the front of the race for a while, but I didn't press on the pedals too hard because it was a long way to the finish.
At the end of the first lap, on the three mile stair-step climb to the finish, I noticed the headwind was pretty strong. We lost about ten riders on the climb.
On the second "out" section, I bridged up to a serious-looking four man break but we couldn't get organized and nothing became of it.
With about four miles to go, an accident occurred in the middle of the middle of the pack, causing 7 or 8 riders to hit the road pretty hard. Bob and Joe were near the front and avoided it completely. I was dead last and weaved my way through it pretty easily, then quickly bridged back up to the lead group who were quickly pressing the advantage they received from the accident. I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed, so no hard feelings whatsoever on my part.
On the final three mile headwind climb to the finish, I started dead last, following the rider in front of me until they cracked, quickly going around him and waiting until this scene repeated itself, which it did over and over until I was in the top ten with one kilometer to go.
I could see Joe hitting the front of the race with about 500 meters to go, then falling back a bit. I could see I was in the 6th and final place for an award when two riders went past me like I was standing still. Still, I thought 8th place was pretty good until I found out the two riders who went past me (and Joe as well) were from the Cat 1/2 race. Joe 3rd, me 6th and Bob 8th.
My hats off to Joe for trying to win and still finishing 3rd. My hats off to Bob for being dropped early on the climb and not giving up, passing rider after rider until he was in a fine 8th place at the finish. I don't know if I could recovered like that. Great piece of riding Bob.
Ed Price
Sixth place last Saturday at the Cantua Creek Road race in the 45+ Cat 4 race was a real surprise, as I was hoping for a top 15 or 20 at best.
I haven't formally trained on my road bike more than four or five times in the past six weeks because of moving (Jan 1st) and then putting in 70+ hour work weeks to get caught up on all the work I neglected during the move.
I thought about not racing at Cantua Creek, that maybe I should hold off on racing until I have put in some long training rides, solo intervals, roller intervals and some Sunday group rides but I decided the best thing to do would be to race. So instead of training hard, I took two days completely off the bike right before the race, Wednesday and Thursday and rode the rollers for 45 minutes Friday. My legs felt fresh for the first time in months.
My only goal was to make it to the final finishing hill with the main group but beyond that, I had no aspirations of anything special. To be honest, I have been commuting everywhere on my mountain bike, road bike and electric bike, sometimes up to 20 hours in a week. In addition, because I am always cutting it close for my appointments, I usually have to hammer pretty hard to get there on time.
I wanted to help Bob and Joe podium, but I wasn't sure if that was even possible. To that end, I took a flyer just past the first turn-around and stayed away for about a couple of miles, hoping to force the other teams to chase me and give Joe and Bob a free ride. I could see them blocking at the front of the race for a while, but I didn't press on the pedals too hard because it was a long way to the finish.
At the end of the first lap, on the three mile stair-step climb to the finish, I noticed the headwind was pretty strong. We lost about ten riders on the climb.
On the second "out" section, I bridged up to a serious-looking four man break but we couldn't get organized and nothing became of it.
With about four miles to go, an accident occurred in the middle of the middle of the pack, causing 7 or 8 riders to hit the road pretty hard. Bob and Joe were near the front and avoided it completely. I was dead last and weaved my way through it pretty easily, then quickly bridged back up to the lead group who were quickly pressing the advantage they received from the accident. I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed, so no hard feelings whatsoever on my part.
On the final three mile headwind climb to the finish, I started dead last, following the rider in front of me until they cracked, quickly going around him and waiting until this scene repeated itself, which it did over and over until I was in the top ten with one kilometer to go.
I could see Joe hitting the front of the race with about 500 meters to go, then falling back a bit. I could see I was in the 6th and final place for an award when two riders went past me like I was standing still. Still, I thought 8th place was pretty good until I found out the two riders who went past me (and Joe as well) were from the Cat 1/2 race. Joe 3rd, me 6th and Bob 8th.
My hats off to Joe for trying to win and still finishing 3rd. My hats off to Bob for being dropped early on the climb and not giving up, passing rider after rider until he was in a fine 8th place at the finish. I don't know if I could recovered like that. Great piece of riding Bob.
Ed Price
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