Andy Finch Circuit Race
June 26, 2003
Today was my 11th anniversary and how did I celebrate? I went and did a bike race and didn’t even see my wife all day. What a cad, huh? Maybe, but Sheri spent the day flying up to Oregon and heading down to Eugene and hallowed Hayward Field in preparation for an 800-meter race the next day. She was hoping to qualify for a special Masters race at the Olympic Trials! My little bike race couldn’t hold a candle to that, but at least we were both doing something we enjoyed. We’ll celebrate next week, when we’re in the same state.
I rode hard and long with Steve Z. on Thursday and then my brother Chris worked me over for a hard 15 miles on Friday night. I looked at my heart rate afterwards and was surprised to see I hit 168 bpm. Perhaps, that isn’t the ideal training into this race, but I was trying to get my legs back after running my first ultra-marathon (a 50-mile jaunt through the San Juan Mountains that included 12,000 vertical feet of climbing) the weekend before.
I drove down to my mom’s place in Denver the night before. Chris and I rode that evening and the next morning my kids, Chris, Liz, and their kids, my mom, and I all rode down to Cherry Creek Reservoir and caught about 80 crayfish. The kids really loved this. Before long, I had to head down to Castle Rock for my race.
I drove down, got registered, and hopped on my back. Things seemed pretty quiet down here. Check-in had no line, no line for the porta-potties, what was up? It was a smaller race. The Cat. 4 field (there was no 35+ Cat. 4) only had about sixty riders, where we normally have 80-100. The Andy Finch race is run on what seems to be the roads for an office park that was never built. It is out in the boonies and there are no buildings at all. The road must have been built decades ago and abandoned because it is cracked and buckled in spots and there is some debris on the road.
I warmed up a couple of laps with former Olympian Ann Trombley. She rides for the Excel Team and is really nice. She was on the U.S. mountain biking team that went to Sydney. She finished 16th there in 2000. I rolled up to the starting line about ten minutes early and riders were already staging. I was near the back when Greg, another Rocky Mounts 35+ Cat. 4 rider pulls up next to me. He and I were the only Rocky Mounts in the race and it was nice to see a friendly face. There were a couple of big teams here, one with about eight riders. The start/finish line was at the top of a 400-meter hill. From here the course, drops a bit and then starts the big hill on the course. This climbs steadily, but not that steeply up to a right turn and then steeper up to the summit. Next it goes down a pretty fast hill before hitting a rolling hill that can be climbed in the big chain ring, if you stand up. This roller takes less than a minute to climb and probably more like 45 seconds. The rest of the course is downhill with a couple of high-speed near 90-degree corners, but with the road so wide, these weren’t a problem at all. The final 90-degree turn leads into the bottom of the 400-meter hill that goes up to the finish. Our race would be doing 7 laps on this course. Concurrent to our race was the women’s 1-2 race and the 17-18 junior race. Our race started first and the other fields went five minutes apart.
The gun goes off and people take off like a shot. Before I know it, I’m dead last in the field and we’re climbing hard. I figure nothing much will happen for the first few laps and trying not to blow up, but I’m too far back. Going up the first big hill the field is strung out all over the place. I work hard and catch up to Greg and ride his wheel for awhile, but a gap is opening up in front of him. I go on by and urge him to come with me. Unfortunately, this is the last I’ll see of Greg in this race. He crested the hill on the back end of the group, but was never able to get fully integrated. He was pretty pissed off about this and was hoping to hang longer of course. This first time up the hill was one of the hardest of the entire race.
I moved up enough on the hill to be with the front group, which was probably only forty strong or less at this point and we’d done half a lap! I recovered a bit on the descent, as I would do every lap and then moved up some more on the roller. I was in about 5th position heading down the winding descent and I held this position until the turn up the hill toward the start/finish. I got passed a bit here, but hung in the top twenty.
The second lap was easier, but I was still suffering massively by the top of the hill. I stayed near the front, but never in the lead. The third lap was more of the same and coming down into the final corner, I felt there were too many riders around me to take the corner with complete comfort, so I went to the front. “Just for the corner,” I told myself, but tearing around that corner, I felt a bit of hubris and worked hard up the hill, seeing if I’d get a break. I didn’t get much more than twenty feet and the pack was charging hard. I sat up at the start/finish line and riders swarmed by me. I figured it was too early and would just hang for a couple more laps. Unfortunately, I put myself into more oxygen debt than I knew.
I got dropped going up the hill the fourth time. I was off the back! I was hurting so bad and now the pack was riding away from me. I couldn’t respond. Despair hit, along with massive pain. The race was over, I thought. I’m going to time trial in or maybe get caught by some straggler and ride with them. I wanted to abandon and claim I had dead legs. All these thoughts went through my head in the course of about fifteen seconds. I crested the hill and another guy caught me and I grabbed his wheel. We caught some other stragglers and kept sweeping people up. We hammered the roller and up ahead, down the hill, we could see the pack. Now the tight corners worked to our advantage as the a few riders can take these corners much faster than the pack. We caught back on before the final turn and I was still in the race, but if they went hard again, I’d blow. I needed to recover, but we headed immediately into the hill for the 5th time.
Thankfully the pace was slower this time and I worked my way back up to the top ten. I sat in the rest of the lap, trying to recover. The penultimate time up the hill a solo breakaway went off the front. I looked around and no one reacted. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t even try to chase him down, but I was hoping to grab a wheel. He went away out to hundred meters and I forgot about him, thinking we’d catch him on the downhill. I positioned well at the start of the final lap and knew everyone would be going ballistic on the final climb. One rider attacks hard here and escapes. He’d eventually catch the breakaway guy from the previous lap, but then blow and get second. The breakaway guy won. It was a gutsy move by a really strong rider and I was glad to see it succeed.
I worked as hard as I could, but slipped back to maybe 20th position over the hill. By the time I crested things were blown apart and I wasn’t sure how many were off the front. I got in a group of 6 or 7 riders and just hoped to hang with them to the finish, but when we hit the roller one guy sort of made an attack and I went with him and then immediately dropped him. I had left the group! I couldn’t believe it. Just a minute ago, I crested the hill behind these guys and now they let me just ride off the front of them? I’m in no-man’s land, though, but put my head down and dig for all I’m worth, trying to catch the pair in front of me.
I catch the pair with maybe 1.5 miles to go. The guy in the lead is working hard and not playing any games. I need to recover and certainly don’t want the lead. I’d only go to the front if the pack of seven behind us is gaining. I check over my shoulder a few times and they aren’t coming for us, so now I can concentrate on these two guys. The lead guy pulls left and the other guy now takes the lead. I’m on his wheel and I assume the third guy has dropped onto my wheel to set himself up for the sprint. The guy is front is working hard, but he doesn’t try to get me to come around. Strange, but good for me. We take the final corner at high speed and I’m on his wheel. Up ahead is the women’s 1-2 field. We’re going to lap them before the finish and we pull wide left to go by. We’re working very hard here, but I wait until I think I’m inside of 200 meters, then I pull further left, sit-up and drive for the line with everything I’ve got. I pull by, but not by much. I push and push and push and I hold him off all the way to line!
Figure 1: My heart rate and the race profile. I don't know why the first peak looks so different from the others...strange. Plus the finish should show a significant rise, but does not. The finish is where the split "1" is marked. Darn technology!
I finished the race in 1h07m and the winner was 1h6m, plus some change. I finished in 6th and supposedly there was merchandise for the top seven, but I forgot about this and didn’t hang out to receive it. Maybe they’ll send it to me. The race was 24.7 miles long, with 2200 total vertical gain. I averaged 22.2 mph, hit a max speed of 42 mph and my slowest speed was 10.5 miles per hour. My average heart rate was 158 bpm and my max was a pitiful 168 bpm. I really need to get this up to 178, but can’t seem to do it. Greg finished a very respectable 26th or so. Considering he lost the lead group on the first lap, this is pretty amazing. He surely passed other riders that got shed later in the race. Full results can be seen here. As usual, the senior men 4 was the biggest field, but still had only 42 finishers.
In the women’s 1-2, Ann Trombley got in a break of two on the last lap and stayed away, but got out maneuvered on the last corner and finished 2nd. Jilayne won the pack sprint and finished 3rd and their other teammate Maatje finished 5th. Quite the showing for the Excel team! I saw one other Rocky Mounts racer, Joe, in the 35+ race. He was hanging fine on the second lap when I had to take off and he finished 22nd and apparently won the sprint of his group, finishing just ahead of Clark Sheehan.