Wipeout

I am not doing so well.

I took a pretty bad spill yesterday afternoon on my single speed. My front tire slid out going around a turn on some singletrack out past Granite Bay. The turn was a fast left-hand sweeper, slightly off-camber, and I hit the edge of a small rut with the inside edge of my tire. Boom! It happened so fast. A half inch either way and nothing would have happened, but I hit the edge of the rut just perfectly. Or imperfectly. Life is all about perspective, I guess.

I had the bike spun out, so I was going over 20 miles per hour. I was about 14 miles from home, and it was a long ride back. I am skinned up pretty badly with abrasions on my shoulder, elbow, hip, thigh, knee, shin, and ankle—pretty much my whole left side.

Scrubbing the dirt and gravel out was fun. We had plans to go out to dinner, and Jennifer arrived while I was in the shower. She heard me screaming and was pretty horrified by the shower scene she saw. She gained some insight into the life of a bike racer. She might not come back.

I'm in some serious discomfort right now, but I made it to work today. I tried to bandage as best I could, but eventually I bled through my pants. The hip injury is by far the worst part. I lost some serious skin, and there is a deep laceration right through the middle of the abrasion. It probably needed to be stitched up, but the area around it is such a mess, I don't know if they could have.

The ground where I hit was like fucking cement, so I am bruised and sore in addition to the (off) road rash. I am pissed off at myself because I just don't make dumb mistakes like that. Now I will be on the shelf for a while, just when I felt like my fitness was coming back. Frustrating. So very, very frustrating.

The irony of making it through two criteriums completely unscathed just a few days ago is what bugs me the most.

Later.

Race Report: 2001 Lighthouse Criterium

When I woke up this morning, my legs felt pretty heavy and sore from racing in Land Park yesterday. Had my mom not planned to come see me race, her first time ever, I might have bailed. I crawled out of bed and took a hot shower. After giving my legs a good rubdown, they started feeling better. At the race I warmed up on the trainer for a full 40 minutes—the longest I have ever warmed up. I had a serious sweat going, and that seemed to help loosen me up quite well.

I met a guy from the Bay Area who had parked right next to me. He asked me about the race course, we got to talking, and we ended up hanging out until the start. His name was Jay, but I would only learn this after the race. He works at the Lawrence Livermore Lab.

Because they were running a little behind schedule, the officials didn't allow us a warm-up lap. There was much grumbling from the pack. Before anyone was really ready, the ref blew the whistle and we were off. Immediately the pack strung out in a single file line. The pace was incredibly fast in the beginning, but mellowed out after a few laps.

I rode about mid-pack for the first half of the race. I ended up drifting back little by little and found myself at the back for a couple laps getting sucked along on the nice, long straightaways. After a little recovery time I made an effort up the outside of the hill and suddenly found myself at the head of the pack. I tried to rotate out after a hard pull at the front, and then again a little later, but nobody would come around. Out of anger I put the hammer down and strung out the field, but made no gaps. I must admit it was cool to look back and see the entire pack riding single file in my wake. I rode almost a whole 1.4 mile lap on the front and felt pretty good. I spent the next three laps in the third or fourth position, resting a bit but keeping an eye out for a breakaway.

After my effort at the front, I drifted back in the pack where I saw the lab guy. I said, "What are you doing?" in an Indian accent, like the guy in the Budweiser commercial, and everyone around us was laughing.

On the final lap, going down the first hill, some joker tried to pass on the inside in the gutter. He slid out and crashed hard right in front of me going about 32 miles per hour. I braked hard, swerved and avoided the crash. Nobody else went down, but the field split right in front of me. There was a big gap very quickly. I took off in pursuit and lab guy came around me. I said, "Go Lawrence Livermore Lab guy!" I jumped on his wheel, but unfortunately he petered out pretty quickly. I said, "I'm coming around, let's go!" I put in a blistering effort which actually started dropping lab guy. "Stay with me, stay with me," I said, and he caught back on. I wound it up to 30 miles per hour and managed to get back on the lead group with about 20 seconds of intense effort. I sat in through the three quick S-turns and tried to catch my runaway breath. Then I purposely downshifted to a low gear and really spun it out up the last hill. I shot by about five guys who were in too big a gear. Then after the last turn I shifted down and wound it back up. I couldn't catch onto a wheel so I just sprinted for the finish, passing two more guys and almost nipping a third at the line. It was cool. I made a quick count of nine guys in front of me.

After the race, during the warm-down lap, lab guy introduced himself as Jay. He apologized for not introducing himself earlier because it would have been much easier for me to say, "Go Jay." We got a good laugh out of that.

After a race I like to interact with the fans. OK, it's my mom.

I ended up in 10th place, a decent finish for me in a criterium.

Later.

Race Report: 2001 Land Park Criterium

Today's race ended pretty much like every Land Park Criterium does—with a huge crash. There is a reason we call it "Crash Park."

The race takes place in Sacramento's Land Park on a circuit that really doesn't have any corners to speak of. Because of its circular nature, speeds are very high and the pack is a crammed together. It's really tough for anyone to go fast enough to string out the pack. Most of the time my computer registered 28-30 miles per hour, and this speed is achieved with three or four guys within inches or even at times bumping you.

I drifted from the front of the pack to the back a number of times throughout the race, and even took a few short pulls on the very front. With three laps to go the speed picked up even more and we did finally see some real racing. I moved up to the top third and was feeling pretty good about making a move.

Four guys split off the front with two laps to go and the rest of us were trying to bridge up. On the back side of the course there was a touch of wheels in front of me and a couple guys went down. Everyone scattered, and another racer went down and slid across the road in front of me. I hit the rear brakes and slid sideways to miss him. It was a nice mountain bike move that kept me upright, but I heard the telltale ping of spokes breaking. My rear wheel was toast. Second year in a row.

As I was pulling to the outside of the road the crash continued behind me and I turned just in time to see a guy hit a palm tree. I will never forget the sound of his torso hitting the trunk. It sounded not unlike Stallone punching a side of beef in the first Rocky film.

I continued "racing" with my badly bent rear wheel, but with the rim rubbing my brakes I couldn't do much. When I came around to the crash site on the last lap, the rider who hit the tree was still down but appeared to be conscious and alert.

I limped in to take 38th out of 45.

After barely escaping yet another criterium crash, I have to ask myself if it's worth it. The race format just isn't that fun, and it is by far the type of racing I am weakest at.

At least tomorrow's Lighthouse Criterium has a hill and lots of cornering. Hopefully I will perform a bit better there.

Later.