Author

Luke Seemann on Jun 19, 2010

Race name: Cobb Park Criterium Race date: Saturday, Jun 19, 2010

As some of you are aware, I had a spot of bad luck last week when my racing bike and wheels were pinched from the trunk of my car. Fortunately I have a B bike, and our great sponsor Hed Cycling was able to quickly put some Jet 4's underneath me. Back in business.

Quick verdict on the wheels: I like. I miss the velvety feel of the tubulars, but there's still the signature speed and acceleration. They jump like kangaroos, and once they get up to speed, they stay there. Plus, they're light, handy on any climbs.

And today's course had a climb: A nice shallow rise between turns 1 and 2. It's the sort of slow burner that's well suited to me.

30+ 1/2/3/4

Before the race I chatted with Marc Zionts of Alberto's, who beat me out of a two-man break last week at Sherman Park. I need to shed this last-in-the-break habit of mine, so I asked what I should have done to beat him.

Because Marc is a nice guy, he indulged me. I was on the right track, he said, by attacking early. Given my strengths, however, I just need a little more of a climb to get away.

Attack early, eh?

Attack on a climb, eh?

Duly noted.

As he was at Sherman Park, teammate Davy Jones was very active in this race. It's great to see him riding so well and so smart. He got in an early break with Zionts, and at all other times he was covering moves and chasing.

There were efforts to break away the entire race, but with five to go, we were all together when someone strung us out down the homestretch. Mike Kirby saw this as the opportunity it was and told me so: "You need to counter this," he said.

You don't have to tell me twice. As we hit the hill, the pace hesitated and I attacked, digging all the way up. I didn't look back until we hit the homestretch, where I saw two riders had come with me. I slotted in behind them.

As we approached the hill, we were slowing. I sensed the pack on us. "C'mon, guys, it's now or never." It would be never -- for this group, at least.

As we hit the hill, the pack caught us and Erik Tomlinson of Spokes countered, drilling it up the hill. I went with him, clawing to stay in his slipstream. This was the decisive move, and only three others came with: Zionts, Illinois Cup leader Patrick Fasse of Bicycle Heaven and Dan Lang of Proctor, exactly the strong riders you want for a move to be successful.

The five of us rotated smoothly and buried ourselves. We were gone.

So how do I win this thing?

I'm certainly not going to outsprint four other guys, especially these guys, so I'm going to have to attack early. On the climb. Like Marc said.

One technique I had forgotten at Sherman Park was to gap yourself before attacking out of a break. If you open a few meters between you and the others, you can be closer to top speed when you go by, making it harder for them to grab your wheel.

And so it was that I'd come off a pull and was sitting last wheel as we hit the climb with two to go. I gapped myself, then launched up the right side. (That's where there was a slight shelter from the wind, and the sun was casting shadows from left to right -- I didn't want my shadow to tip me off. Every millisecond of surprise counts.)

It worked. I heard a satisfying groan from the rest of the break. Even though it was one against four, my hope was that none of them would want to chase hard, lest they hurt their chances in a potential sprint. That appeared to be what was going on.

I kept digging. I had a good gap at the top of the hill. Now it was just a three-minute effort. Coincidentally, this is a workout I've been doing lately to simulate a breakaway: 20-second sprint, 3-minute threshold, 20-second sprint. Time to put theory into practice.

Down the hill. Gap holding. Just let me get through the homestretch. Gap holding. Just let me get up the hill. Gap still holding. OK, easy on the chicane, no need to risk a crash now. They're not gaining. Final time down the homestretch. Sprint for good measure.

Hey, how 'bout that. I won. No longer "last in the break" -- or was it just a matter of making it a break of one?

In any case, I couldn't have done it without Kirby or Davy, nor the support of teammates on the sidelines. It's very nice to know so many people have your back.

And I'm pretty sure the Hed wheels helped, too. I should note that I also won the first time I used my last set of Hed wheels. Coincidence?

P/1/2/3

A few hours later I lined up again. I'd be alone this time, and there were a lot of unknown riders in the field. Surely a break would get away, but it would be tough to pick the right one.

Early on I was not nearly selective enough. I was going at every apparent opportunity, but none got anywhere. Too many fresh legs. After reminding myself to be patient, I sat in for the next 20 minutes and let others do the attacking and chasing.

With about 25 minutes left, I was struggling. I thought about dropping out. I'd already gotten a good result on the day. There would be no shame in calling it a day, right?

But then I remembered an important maxim of the breakaway artist: If it's so hard that you want to drop out, go on the attack. Tim Krabbe puts it best: "Shift, when you're really, truly at the end of your rope, to a higher gear." It works nearly every time.

It would work this time.

I attacked on the climb. A rider came with. We stayed off for more than a lap, but the field caught us on the homestretch, letting me dangle.

Then I saw three riders counterattack. The field was still letting me dangle by myself on the other side of the road, so I went off in pursuit. I was able to catch, and off we went. This was the move.

We lost one of the riders, but with 11 laps to go, the remaining three of us had a good 15- to 20-second gap.

Soon we were told that there was a chase group 8 seconds behind. We kept plugging away and the gap held steady, but this group caught us with three to go. I countered immediately, hoping to shed anyone on the brink, but it yielded nothing. We were now a group of 10.

On the final climb I attacked one final time, but this time I couldn't get the drop on anyone, and I merely ended up leading out the sprint. At the final turn, everyone zoomed by like I was standing still.

10th. Back to last in the break, but at least I made the break, my first in a P/1/2 race. That's something to be happy about. Now to work on getting the break smaller.