This is not your typical race report – if you are here to read about breakaways, tactics, crashes, or race results, I am sorry to disappoint you, but you have come to the wrong place – instead, these are some of the incredible things that I saw, thought, and experienced while in San Dimas, both on the bike and off.
But first, I’m sure there are at least some of you that would like to know how I actually did (Hi Mom!) Below is a quick summary of my boring results from the San Dimas Stage Race:
[For the real stories, skip to A Host of Grandfather Clocks)
25th in the Time Trial. The course was a 4.25-mile climb up Glendora Mountain Road, a relatively gradual grade of 6-8%. I don’t think it’s possible to call something a climb if you can ride up it at 18mph, but the pro riders here at San Dimas definitely put that into question.
36th in the Road Race. My heartbreak, disappointment, and wealth of emotions during this road race is already well-documented. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, check out last week’s post here: http://zachnehr.com/2018/03/25/san-dimas-road-race-2018/
55th in the Crit. I wanted to make the break, but I couldn’t. My legs said no, and my heart agreed. I finished at the back of the pack, and was happy to avoid crashing, and not lose any time.
19th in GC – A Top 20 is a Top 20, but I was hoping for more. Now, the good stuff:
A Host of Grandfather Clocks
How many grandfather clocks are too many for one room? – 2, 3, 4? – How about 8. That is how many grandfather clocks our host had in his living room. And no, they were not all synched together.
Every 3-and-a-half minutes… DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG, DONG – a chorus of dongs rings throughout the entire house. And then, no more than 30 seconds later… DING, DING, DING, DING, DING – grandfather number two decides that it’s 5 o’clock now. It took about five minutes for each of the eight clocks to go through its routine, but by that time, I already had headphones on.
But how did we end up here? – I had reached out through the race’s website, the day before I was to arrive in San Dimas (yes, I know – poor planning), about host housing. I was incredibly lucky that the host housing coordinator was so quick and prompt, and he was able to find a spot for me to stay in less than 24 hours. (Shout-out to Bill from San Dimas for being awesome).
After getting a ride up from Newport Beach, I arrived in San Dimas a few days before the race, and met my host, along with his many, many, grandfather clocks. He was an ex-racer, but also a current one. He had taken a break from bike racing from his late twenties to early sixties – he was off the bike for over 30 years, but came back to racing, and even won a few state titles in the last couple of years.
I’ve been so lucky to see most of America by bike – I have seen so many beautiful places, met so many incredible people, and heard countless stories of love, suffering, and kindness; San Dimas was no different.
Despite the grandfather clocks (I had headphones and ear plugs, so sleeping was not a problem), our host was super nice, kind, and helpful to Cooper and I throughout the entire of the trip, and I am incredibly grateful to each and every host that I have ever had – Thank you.
Goes to California for Spring Break, Still Rides the Trainer
The day the before the time trial, the weather forecast called for torrential rains, potential flooding, and sideways wind – they were right (for once), and I am incredibly grateful that this was the day before the race, and not during. So there I was, 24 hours before the TT, pedaling hard on an indoor trainer – some things never change.
I felt good going into the TT, but then my valve stem broke two minutes before I was supposed to start my warm-up. Instead of taking the time to put a new tube in right before my start, I threw in an extra wheel that my teammate had brought (thank you, Cooper), and tried to forget about it.
After nailing my warm-up, taking a gel, and rolling over to the start with 5 minutes to spare, I took a few deep breaths, and mentally prepared myself for the effort.
15 minutes, it’s only 15 minutes. It’s shorter than a 20 minute power test, you can handle that. Break it in to 5-minute segments. First five: not that bad. Second five: yeah this hurts. Third five: oh my god I think I’m gonna die! – You’re ready for this, you’ve worked hard for this, and you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Take this opportunity to show everyone what you can do. Now go out and crush it!
Five minutes in and I feel great. I’m holding 380 W and I don’t feel like I’m going that hard. I must be on a good day. This is great. This is awesome. Keep it going! Five minutes later and I’m really starting to feel it – 360 W, 350 W, I can see that I’m starting to die. 10 minutes in, and I stop looking at my Garmin. I switch over to the screen that only shows me Time. I don’t want to see my power, heart rate, speed, or anything else – I focus 100% on my effort, and giving it everything until I cross that finish line.
16:15. I’m pretty disappointed with my result, but I’ve been sick since Wednesday, and this is my first block of racing in 2018. I’m not as fit nor fresh as all of these California guys, and I can feel it in my legs and lungs when I know that I gave it absolutely everything, and ended up in 25th place, almost a minute-and-a-half behind the winner.
I try to shake it off, forget about it, and focus on tomorrow. I ride up Mt Baldy as a long cool-down (literally; it was 45 degrees at the top). It helps me forget about the race, and live in the moment instead. It was one of the most incredible rides I have ever done. Every time I looked up, I saw a beautiful painting. The clouds hung low over the peaks of the mountains, and the sun shone through in the distance like the heavens raining down from the sky. The air was cool and crisp, and I could hear my vest ruffling in the wind as I climbed up the winding road. I didn’t see a car for almost an hour, and it was beautiful.
It’s A Small World
After the road race, I was so distraught, confused, and angry, that talking to an official was probably not a good idea – but that’s exactly what I did. I found the officials standing next to their motorcycles, recounting stories from the race just like us crazy racers do. I rolled up to them and didn’t ask for anyone in particular, I just wanted to know what happened. I was directed towards the head commissaire, and after a few minutes of conversation, neither of us really had any answers, but I was still glad that we talked it out.
Just as I was about to roll away, the commissaire asked me, “Hey, where are you from?”
“Um, Milwaukee…” I was confused as to why he would ask me that, since it had nothing to do with my questions about the race.
“Where in Milwaukee?” he asked.
I was even more confused now, but I figured that he must know the area, since he was being specific. “Whitefish Bay,” I said.
“Oh, I’ve won the Whitefish Bay Crit a bunch of times! I have a few Superweek winners’ jerseys from back in the day, and I used to race up there all the time. I come up to ToAD now and officiate there. I was wondering if I might have seen you there before.”
Now it all made sense – I couldn’t believe that he actually knew about Whitefish Bay, let alone the Whitefish Bay Crit. I had been there so many times as a kid, I probably watched him race (and maybe win) a few times. Turns out that he even knows my dad…
I love how, in some of the most unexpected places, we can always seem to find a connection to our home. I have only twice been to California, I had never been to San Dimas before, and I’ve only been in the cycling world for a few years. I never would have guessed that I would meet someone who not only knew my home town, but who also raced there when I was a kid. Pretty cool – at least in the super lame and very niche world of bike racers.
Dead Legs
Sunday’s Crit was supposedly hard, but not that hard. It was windy, but the course was long and not very technical. After my performance in the road race the day before (one of my better rides, ever), I had high expectations for the crit and was hoping to make it into the break of the day – the break of the day doesn’t always make it to the finish, but I felt strong (I thought), and I wanted to be in it. Sure enough, the break went just after the first intermediate sprint, but I was still at the back of the field.
I had started at the back, and it took me 40 minutes to get to the front of the race. Usually, I’m much better at getting to the front – quickly – but five seconds into the race, I could tell that my legs were dead. The sickness and fatigue had finally caught up with me, and I felt like s#%^.
I hate using excuses, but this one was real. My inner-exercise physiologist comes out whenever I analyze my ride data in Strava and TrainingPeaks (San Dimas Crit: https://www.strava.com/activities/1472289945 ), and looking at my ride in the crit, I noticed that my heart rate was at least 10 bpm lower than normal. There were many times during the race when I felt like I was going as hard as I could, yet my max HR was only 171 bpm (on a normal day, it will be 180-185 bpm). If you don’t know exercise physiology, that is a tell-tale sign of fatigue. It is actually common for riders to see their maximum heart rate drop during consecutive days of a long stage race, the Tour de France for example, even if their power output and performance stays the same.
But anyway, I was bummed to miss the break, but I knew I couldn’t do, feeling the way I did. In the end, I was happy to finish in the field and avoid any crashes or time splits.
How Does One Acquire An Uber At 4:00AM? (FYI: Uber is not a personal sponsor of mine –yet)
I don’t know exactly how Uber works (kind of like how I don’t understand how a microwave cooks food with invisible waves), but it does. I had a 6:00AM flight out of LAX on Monday morning, and the drive from San Dimas to LA is almost an hour – one Uber comin’ right up. The drive was quiet and surprisingly relaxing (probably because I was still half asleep), and the music choice was excellent, which made for the perfect start to a long day of travel, sleep, homework, and Physics class.
Shout out to Jacob from Uber for giving me a ride at 4 in the morning ***** 5 stars *****
After 3 cars, 2 planes, 1 bus, and 8 hours of travel, I was back in Milwaukee, just in time for Physics class. I was physically present for lecture that day, but I’m pretty sure my mind was already asleep.
Next: Spring Super Criterium, South Beloit, Illinois