Snelling, a Revelation

The Snelling Road Race was this past weekend. I wrote a race report for the YCT website, so instead of repeating myself I'll focus here on my favorite part of the race: the last five miles wherein I flog myself in search of glory, come heartbreakingly close, and fall short.

I had a rocky December/January and have been far, far behind in my training to the point where I've been doing exclusively base training and no, repeat zero, intensity. Snelling was my first chance to race hard and I had no idea how the legs would respond.

The field of 120 spent most of the race smashing each other up with attacks, chasing down moves, and trying to keep things moving without tiring out. After about 70 miles I was the lone Yahooligan in a group of 8 after my teammate Evan tragically flatted out of the front group. This group was stacked. The cast included Gerlach, Holloway, Sayers, Kilun,  and Talansky (all pros or former pros), Jesse Moore (local phenom) and some guy I didn't recognize. A quick shoutout here to my coach Judd who decided to race the P/1/2s after flatting out of the masters race that morning. He muscled his way into our group and rolled it like a champ until things exploded all over the road. The guy is something else.

With about 6 miles to go people started dropping bombs. One guy would rip off some massive attack, get a gap and the rest of us would be forced to jump in response to close it down or call a bluff and wait for someone else to close it. There were many attacks. I was hurting after 70 miles of hard racing and unsure about how much I had left in the tank. Then Talansky hit out hard, and as we hesitated he started pulling away. Gerlach, with his uncanny ability to read a race, jumped at the perfect time, making the bridge move look simultaneously effortless for him and impossible for the rest of us.

Talansky and Gerlach linked up and started pulling away as the rest of us looked around. One person would jump, but as soon as he saw another rider on his wheel he would sit up, not wanting to drag someone else to the winning move. Sayers went. Kilun went. Kilun again. Then Holloway took off like he'd been shot out of a cannon and after a moment of hesitation he was slowly making his way across to the two up front. Again we attacked, covered and sat calling each others bluffs. The front two were well up the road at this point and Holloway, too, had a good gap and looked to be gaining. I was really hurting by now, but I figured I could either bluff my way into a sprint for 4th place, or throw down, try to bridge and at least go out in a blaze of glory.

So I hit it as hard as I could. When I looked back I had a little gap so I put my head down and rode as hard as I could trying to catch the three up the road. Honestly, I didn't think I had a chance in hell. I was suffering like a dog over the last couple of rollers. I pedaled through the last flooded section and as the streams of water hit my felt it felt like someone had put on the E-brake. And then somehow I was closing it down. I think the front two must have slowed up when Holloway got across, not wanting to drag the reputable sprinter to the line. Whatever happened, I made it up to them with maybe a mile and a half to go.

The four of us did two rotations to keep things moving, and then Talansky hit it hard while I was on the front. We jumped and caught him. I don't think he liked his odds in the sprint and I can't blame him. He made one more move into the last corner before the 400 meter uphill sprint. I was looking for Gerlach's wheel, afraid I wouldn't be able to stay with Holloway's kick. Gerlach went, Holloway took his wheel and I slotted in behind him as he came around Gerlach. I left it as late as I could knowing I didn't have much left for an uphill sprint, and perhaps I left it too late. I tried to come around Holloway with maybe 150 meters to go, but I just couldn't quite get him.

 From left: Holloway, Gerlach, the Mammoth (photo from Yahoo! Cycling Team)

Man! I love that kind of racing. I love when the final group self-selects through repeated savage attacks. I love the mental strains of cat and mouse tactics at the end of a long, hard day. And I love a sprint finish where I can turn it all loose and know I didn't hold anything back.

I also love winning, which is one important thing missing from this race. That said, I'm beyond excited about what this performance means for the rest of the season. I've had one solid month of base training with no intensity at all, and I was right there in it, just inches from snatching a sprint win from a bunch of pros and a guy who recently returned from riding 6 day track events in Europe. I understand this was Snelling, not Tour of the Battenkill, but if I can continue training diligently, stay focused and optimistic, and keep improving this could shape up to be one hell of a season.

One last note having to do with attitudes in the pack. I appreciate that psychology plays a huge role in bike racing. Heck, its one of the reasons I love to race. You can't just be strong, you have to be smart too, and sometimes that means getting people to do things they don't want to do if its to your benefit. But there's a line somewhere, and I think people crossed it on Saturday. Instead of calling anyone out, I'll say instead that I'm incredibly impressed with how Chad Gerlach races his bike. He's strong as shit, and he's been doing this stuff long enough to have a great feel for how a race is going to play out. He doesn't need to whine, or scream or spit on people. He races hard, and he races straight up. What's more, he actually seems to be enjoying himself. I don't know the guy off the bike, but in a race he's a talented and honest competitor and I'd be happy to line up with him any day. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the peloton.