Sunday, May 20, 2007

Intrepid Cyclist RR, White House, TN

How to Avoid Pylons and Use Them to Your Advantage

I did the 120-km Intrepid Cyclist Road Race in White House Tennessee on May 19th. The race consisted of three 40 km laps on a rolling course north of Nashville with a 2 km, 39/23 climb at the end of the each lap. About 45 starters in the Pro/1 field assembled at 9:00 am under clear skies, low humidity and 70 degree weather with slight wind. The race field was composed of two regionally dominant ten man teams, a smattering of independents, professionals, and one AMD/Discovery Masters rider (me).

My plan for this race was to attack from the beginning to prevent being trapped by riders on big teams that serve as pylons while their teammates escape. The pylon method of blocking is effective method of racing for riders with large teams when there is a yellow line rule. If you allow yourself to be blocked by the pylons, the race proceeds at a conversational pace until you finally get to the front and catch the escapees or they ride away and win the race. To thwart this pylon tactic, I wore a skin suit and obtained the luxury of a feeder so that I didn’t have to carry anything in my pockets. I was committed to a zero tolerance program that I use when racing alone and I am fit enough to make it work: either I am in the break or there is no break. To avoid the pylons you either have to be in the front three until the break goes or the race needs to be lined out. Statistically, there is a low probability of winning a race if you aren’t in the front group at the finish. Also, I have been called many things but never a pylon.

After 4 km neutral start, I hit the front. I got a gap and settled in with my arms draped TT aero style over the bars. After a few hundred meters, I was caught by a small group that was then counter attacked, but I managed to jump on the last guy. This process repeated its self several times until Trent Wilson (Jittery Joe’s) jumped away with another guy from one of the two big teams. Fortunately, by staying top three, I was in position to bridge in the five-second time window available as he was going 60 km/hr. Because another rider from one of the two big teams was on my wheel, the pylons opened a gap for us. Sometimes pylons are useful.

For the next 5 km, Trent and I were pulling and only one of the two 20 year olds that were in the break was working. After a few rotations, I looked back after pulling and the two 20 somethings were gapped. We soft pedaled for them to get back on as we didn’t want to ride 100 km by ourselves. Also the two major teams wouldn’t chase if they were with us. After letting them come back and sit on, Trent ramped it up again and the 20 somethings went out the back not to be seen again.

We then settled into the task of a long hard day of the front. From somewhere, I seem to recall that Trent had finished the Giro twice and from watching his accelerations on small hills on the course it was obvious that he could drop me on the 2 km climb. I told him that I would do my best on the flats if he would ease off on the climb. He agreed either because maybe at sometime he had been given Wayne Stetina’s “be a fair guy to other riders” speech or that he was already thinking about the 100 km of additional training he was doing after the race to prepare for Philly. I think he was making the day hard on purpose for training as he was really spiking the wattage on every little roller. After the first hour, I was thinking about how my back hurt from the sustained output and how I still had 1 1/2 hours to go. I also thought about how I need to multitask and do situps while I read bedtime stories.

On the last lap, Trent led all the way up the 2 km climb and I slid off where the grade steepened. It was about a 3 km from there to the finish and I still had several minutes to get second before Matt Winstead (Juris) led the field in for third place. Thanks Trent for being a nice guy as I really didn’t want to go back to the field. The only thing worse than dealing with pylons is getting caught by the field.

Kent Bostick

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