Wednesday, 30 November 2016

30/11/2016

Commute:
With De Luca's Chris(tmas)Cross this weekend I figured I should get some time in on the dirt, but I didn't really have too much time to do so. Queue 40 laps of the Kew pump track on the way to work.

1 x 20 normal way
1 x 10 reverse
1 x 10 normal way
1 x I think I need a coffee

D: 23.3km
A: 195m

St Kilda East - HCC Crits D Grade - HCC Crits A Grade - St Kilda East:
I rolled in to the crits early and sidled my way up to Laurie Lovelock. Despite a very good sidling, and some great puppy dog eyes (the best puppy dog eyes, ask anyone!), Laurie informed me they didn't need any more ride marshals for D-grade. Though a few moments later he realised that one of their rostered riders hadn't shown, so my warm up/extras were soon back on track.

D Grade wasn't too eventful. They slowly shattered themselves, meaning that I was frequently dagged off the back by exploded riders, and got to practice carrying speed through the bottom turn without anyone else around.

A Grade was similar in that the bunch whittled down over the course of the 45 minute rate. I hid in the bunch for the first half of the race, then started to go with some moves once the intermediate sprints were done. By go with, I only mean go with. There was no pulling of turns or initiating of attacks. Basically if the rider in front of me went for it, I'd tag along and suffer.

Eventually though, the twenty or so riders left were given a 4 lap countdown. Brendan Canty traipsed away, leaving the rest of us to sprint for 2nd. I was kind of shagged, but DK offered to dump me into the corner first and I figured why not. Why not see where the tank would run completely dry? Through for the 2 laps to go Dave was powering us up the side of the bunch, taking us from the back and around the outside of the bunch. Some dodgy lines on the inside pushed us even wider on the downhill sweeper, I unclipped my inside foot, fearing an imminent lie down in the concrete gutter. I didn't, but our momentum was baulked meaning that through the hairpin and up for the bell we were still at the back. Dave once again took us up and around the bunch, driving hard down and along the flat. He flicked an inside elbow and shot straight through to the spectators, it took me a moment to process, I scrubbed speed... I scrubbed a lot of speed and then tipped into the corner. Left foot down. *scraaaape*, perhaps a millisecond too soon? Right foot down, my cadence was too low but I drove the gear anyway. I felt a presence up my inside. I fought. The presence became a person along side me. I fought. The along side became in front. I fought. Another rider slipped up past. I exploded.

So the answer to where the tank emptied was halfway up the hill. Sure there was room to improve the final few laps and especially the final corner, but I'm satisfied that I was there at all. A normalised power of 406W tells me it wasn't an easy race, but I was there until the bitter end.

Strava link.

D: 71.5km
A: 770m

PMPW: 88kg

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