Last day at the Velodrome

Track class ended last night. This was a 6-week class that I have been taking on Wednesday nights for the last month and a half. Each class is a 2-hour session of butt-kicking. I'm happy to report that the evening went very well after the last couple of sessions have been disappointing to me from a physical standpoint not to mention ego-crushing experience. It seems that rest and proper calorie intake are, in fact, important to a positive cycling experience. ;)

The session started with some warm up. "Warm up" in track class means go 75% of your max speed for lap after lap. Each lap is 333 meters, so three laps is 1 Kilometer. We did 15 laps, which is 5KM or a little over 3 miles. The first 8 laps were full lap "pulls". This means that each rider leads the pace line train for a full lap before rotating to the back of the line. The remaining 7 laps were what is called a "burnout". We went to 1/2 lap pulls, rotating at each 1/2 revolution of the track and increasing the speed with each rotation until the line "blows up", meaning that people start dropping off when they can't keep up. That got the blood pumping.

We take a rest and watch the advanced riders race and then it's our turn again. This time its a 15 lap "scratch" race. We take a "parade" lap to bunch up and hit the start line at roughly the same time. There are no real rules besides that whoever crosses the line first after 15 laps wins. The interesting thing is that there is no set strategy on how fast to go. Going all out from the start is poor strategy because then the rest of the riders will work against you. There was a lot of chatter amongst the riders negotiating a slower pace. We generally worked together for the first 10 laps and then the single group started to splinter into two groups, each pace-lining and jockeying for position. Then around lap 14, a couple of the riders took off and the chase was on! I'm 3rd wheel on the front group and peddle away, concentrating on making smooth even circles to maximize my efficiency. I'm hitting it hard trying to gain ground. A fourth rider catches me temporarily on the right with a 1/2 lap to go. I push harder, he gives it his all, grunting painfully before he cracks and drops back. 1/8 of a lap to go, I'm gaining ground on the second wheel but then a 5th rider passes me at the last second to take third place. I place a respectable 4th. I take a couple of cool down laps around the track gulping down as much oxygen as I can.

More blissful rest as we watch the advance riders "snowball" race. This is a 7-lap race with the first lap being worth 1 point, the second lap worth 2 points, etc until the last lap which is worth 7. Lot's of positioning and strategy with that one.

We're up again. This time, it's a match sprint. I get paired up with another rider and it is single lap race. First to cross the line wins. We start off slow and I ask if he wants to have a civilized race or is he of the attacking variety of rider. Attacking means surging ahead trying to break away. He gives a little grin and say's we'll see. Not good news. I line up right behind his wheel to save a little effort and the speed increases slightly. He starts sneaking up the curved bank wall and I'm trying to figure out what's going on. I stay in the pacer's line at the inner part of the track as that is the shortest distance around the course. Well, we hit the 1/2 way point and he plummets down the bank wall in front of me with the added momentum gain from coming off the wall and starts taking off. It appears that I have made a fundamental racing mistake. I should have taken off myself when he was wasting energy going up the wall. Anyway, I put the hammer down and try to catch him. I give it 100% of what I have and start gaining on him at an impressive rate. The crowd is cheering wildly...but he just manages to sneak a win on me. Damn, damn, damn. I would have had him in another 5 feet. Great race then. We head in and I'm feeling like I'm seriously going to puke. I'm chocking back the oatmeal I ate earlier and trying to get as much air in as possible. Water helps too. I collapse on the bench and stare listlessly at the rest of the match sprints. More blissful rest and I'm still feeling sick. My legs are very heavy and hard. Lactic acid build up. I walk around trying to get them loose.

Our turn again. I briefly contemplate backing out and calling it a night as I have the Lighthouse Century on Saturday and it would be the right thing to do, but my pride won't let me. This time it is Team sprint aka "Italian". Two groups of four line up on opposite ends of the track. It's a sort of relay where the first rider takes only a single lap, the breaks off the the line leaving the remaining riders to peel off with each lap until there is only one anchor rider left. Very similar to a relay. I lead off for our team, getting out of the saddle to gain a burst of speed. My teammates are screaming, faster, faster, faster. I get my rhythm and just burn it up, the last race of the class and I'm going out in style. It is very hard. I'm nearing the end of the lap, panting, straining, surging and then peel off. My God. I wheel off of the track to the asphalt and slowly cruise back to the start line in time to catch the last of the third leg. The race was essentially tied after the first two legs but our third rider is falling seriously behind. He hits the end of his lap, obviously dead on his wheels and 1/4 lap behind. Then our anchor rider, turns on the afterburners and gets after it. Amazingly, he is closing the gap. The crowd once again, goes wild. Somehow, he manages to make up the ground and we squeak out a photo finish win. It couldn't have been more than by 6-inches.

After I catch my breath, I ask the coach, why the race was called an "Italian". He says that because you ride so hard that you have to try and keep down your spaghetti when you are done. Funny.

Well that's it. The last couple of week haven't been great and I had come to the conclusion that this is a very specialized style of riding and I fancy myself more a jack of all trades type of rider. Maybe this wasn't for me but I'm glad I gave it a go. The coach asked if I was going to continue and take the next class starting in a couple of week which is the last of the season and I said not this time as I'm concentrating on longer distance riding and that I'd like to be a little leaner the next time I tried this. He said, "dude, you did awesome tonight. It just takes time". He said that he hoped to see me next year. Overall, it was a very positive day and as a bonus, I managed to keep the oatmeal down.