A small group of XXXers were fortunate enough to head to Tuscany Italy to ride with Max Lelli this past month. While we were there, we raced twice.

The Buriano road race took place on Thursday of our trip, a 3:00 pm local race, which found 90 or so men (and one woman) line up for 55-60k, 10 laps with a 2k finishing climb to Buriano. Apparently in Italy, there are juniors, espoirs (U23) and everyone else. The whole system is built to foster the next generation of 'campionisimo.'

The plan was for Max to help Emanuele, John and Carlo Felice (happy Charlie, as Charlie Meyer came to be called), and for Dino (mktg director for HED, a Cat 2) and me to fend for ourselves.

The pace started hot, and with the open crosswinds section first, began to tax riders early. About 4 laps in, I hear Max roll up next to me, asking if I'm ok and letting me know that Emanuele, Carlo and John were safe, but not with the group.

An aside, all week, Max had been joking that I looked like Lance Armstrong, to which I replied that I was closer to Luis Armstrong and would belt out my best Satchmo, "And I think to myself, what a wonderful world!"

So, when Max came by me a lap or so later, marking a move, I let him know that I'd hooked onto his wheel by singing. He laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bike.

That move didn't stick, but with 4 to go, I was lingering near the front, debating the right approach when I feel a strong hand on my backpanel and hear, "Attack-ay!" Max thought I should go, so of course, I did.

That move didn't work, but I tried again a lap and a half later, and that move stuck until the base of the finishing climb, where I was swallowed up by folks who go uphill much quicker than me.

Interestingly, Emanuele and Carlo had seen both the break and the peloton come by, so I was able to learn that much of the reason my breakaway stuck as long as it did was that Max had been sitting on the front blocking.

What a cool experience to race with Max, check my strategic instincts with his, and try to adapt our American, midwest style to the rigors of Italian racing.

Max seemed pleased with my approach, commenting that I followed good moves, let the right ones dangle, I recovered when I should, ate and drank at good times, and overall had a good race sense. That certainly boosted my confidence, but also let me know that we're lucky at XXX to be able to learn from folks like Randy who will impart some lesser known but essential race knowledge, like patience, conservation, eating and a well-timed attack.

ED