El Guapo on top after all 3 races to claim the GC title (click pic to enlarge)
Xtreme Wheels rolled into Sioux Falls South Dakota this weekend all dee-termined to roll out with prize $ and hardware. Mission accomplished!
El Guapo raced in Open Cat 4, Zach race in juniors and Matt raced in his Cat 3. Zach finished up 3rd overall in the juniors and brought home a nice medal as proof. We left before learning of Matt's final efforts in the crit, so hopefully he'll post soon.
EL GUAPO was feeling rather salty after two weeks in the mountains. I knew that the bike racing season was unfullfilled to date as I had spent a lot of time prepping for the Ironman rather than bike racing. Opportunity arose. Time to let out some bottled up ju-ju.
The Prep:
Two weeks flying up and down mountains at 7500 to 12000 ft. didn't hurt. Did Trail Ridge, Left Hand Canyon, Nederland, Ward, Devil's Gulch. Hurtle back to the Corn. Good blood. Train high. Race low. Get flogged by all my pals on Wednesday Night Worlds. The perfect training environment. No mercy given, none expected. Thanks guys!
Rest up Thoisday and Friday. Spin in EZ to work. On way home, get off bike and walk up hill to conserve energy. Can only imagine what car peeple are thinking...look at that loser walking his bike up the hill. Wimp. Little did they know it's part of a grander plan.
The Plan:
Go up and race in the Minnehaha Stage Race in Sioux Falls. It's put on by the Central Plains Cycling and serves as the South and North Dakota State Championships for time trial (TT), road race (RR) and criterium (crit). Those foreigners from the North have been known to come down on our hallowed Husker soil and steal some of our thunder by winning our state races, although they can't collect state medals/championships. Nevertheless, it goes down quesy, like liver and onions, when they win the race, so I thought it would be nice to return the favor.
Recruit Shelle Lau and junior Tigger Zach Lau to carpool. Restless night on Friday since they were picking me up at 430 AM...barbaric! Plus, starting to get all worked up for the 9 AM TT. Eerie drive up thru dense fog, but Shelle gets us there. Zach and I pollute our bodies with Krispy Kremes and java for me. TT is first, RR in the afternoon and crit on Sunday. You need to finish each race to compete for the overall title.
The TT: 12.5 miles
The motivation to win is always the same. Besides payback, it all boils down to fighting thru the pain by focusing on a single thing. For me, it's all about the Diet Coke (DC). The ultimate award. Never mind the $$ for winning, the notoriety. Never mind the sponsors, the added fitness, the DRAMA. The DC! From the start line pictures of enjoying the reward at the end. Be patient. The pain can be endured. The hammering heart bobbing up in your throat. The legs screaming their protest. Hush! The brain knows. I scream down the road naked. No frills needed. No powermeter. No speedometer. I've got a heart rate monitor on, but can't see it w/o my reading glasses anyway. I'm hurtling towards the 1/2 way point at 6.5 miles. I catch my one minute rabbit and foosh him on the way by. You know, put that little extra mph by as you slingshot past them. Leave the flotsam and jetsom floating in your wake as you motor by. Yes, it's got a Hemi! I turn around. More rabbits ahead. Be very, very quiet, I'm hunting wabbits. With head down, with DC waiting, I'm a diesel buzzsaw running at 174 bpm. Finally, the finish line! I fly by and touch down in the parking lot. Soigneur Shelle and teammate Zach catch my red-hot core and start the cool-down process by popping the lid to an ice-cold Diet Coke. It scalds it way down to my cooling coils. So good. So beautiful. It's my pot-of-gold. Warren profits. I practically inhale the first one. Critical mass is averted. No Chernobyl meltdown. The 2nd one is already being readied. I tell my pit stop crew this is why I race. For the Real Thing. The DC at the end of the rainbow!
The TT results: We return from finding the Holiday Inn in Sioux Falls. Check in. Cool off. Legs in the air. Grapes in the gullet. Chocolate milk being fed intravaneously. Back to Crooks, site of the TT and RR. On the way to check results, the first clues; "blistering time, Pete"; "you kicked *ss". I meander my way over. The results are in. El Guapo-fastest time of the day! Fastest of all the Cat 1s, 2s, 3s, 4s, 5s. I grab maximum points in the General Classification (GC). I average 27.2 mph for the 12.5 mile course. It feels good. The motivation...it works!
The Road Race (60 miles 90+ degrees)
Ok. The RR starts at 3. We've got about 25 riders in our Cat 4 group. We're deluged by green goblins, at least 10 strong. Hordes of them. Central Plains Cycling is there in overwhelming numbers. It's their race. They call the shots. I'm alone. I'm lonely. I'm on my own. I think it through. I strategize. I come up with a plan. It's a long term plan. But, it starts right away. I've gotta match whichever green guy is in the lead. Two mean greenies try a breakaway within the first couple of miles. No reaction from any other clubs. They're pulling away....mebbe 100 yards ahead. I work my way over to the left side and fire off the turbos. Full 100% effort to bridge up. The field reacts. They chase us down. Green team plan #1 thwarted. They send other goons up front to push the pace. I latch on to whichever one is leading. I'm on them like stink on doo-doo. I'm flypaper. I'm 100% Velcro Man. They weave back and forth. I weave. They slow. I slow. Another Greenie shoots past. I latch on. I talk to other soloists. Rich from Kaos. Mike from Joyride. Dana from BP. We've got to be alert. Finally, it's the last lap. It's been 60 miles of marshmallow roasting hot highway. But I'm motivated. I'm working for a goal. The Diet Coke waits in the parking lot. It's a dream that drives me forward. It sends power from the dilithium crystals to the warp drive. The finish line is ahead. Massive sprint. I get boxed in temporarily, but churn in to finish 4th, nipping Rich at the line. I get important points from Rich, as he's in 2nd place. Mission accomplished part deux. I fight cramps, like everyone else. I spin back to the parking lot. I ram home the DC! Later, we hit Pizza Ranch. It's open season on DC. Buffet! I immerse myself in it. It fills me to the brim. I'm complete. I'm a new man.
The Crit: 45 minutes of high-noon, 91 degree HELL
OK. Won the TT. 4th in RR. Showdown. Who will show up in my bod today? The guy that HATES crits? Or the guy that wants it all? I know the answer. I want it all and I'm going to have to open up the game plan. The weight of the yellow jersey causes a sleepless night. Throw aside the crit fear. The previous meltdowns in crits. The crit wrecks. I'm first in GC, leading wiley veteran Rich of Kaos by 7 points and Tom of the Green Machine by 11. I plan. I plot. I need to pull this off with foxiness. They announce a 5 point prime. Lap 5. First fella thru on lap 5 receives an extra 5 points towards the GC. Hmmm. I know I can't let Rich win that. I can't let Tom win that. I'm gonna watch them like a hawk. I'll contest it. B4 the race, I yoga for 20 minutes to release the demons. The doubts. I'm a good person, dadgummit, and I deserve the BEST!
The race starts. Tom sprints out of the gates. Tries to put the big hurt on right away. Uphill sprint, turn the corner. He peeks behind. I'm there. I won't be disposed of that easily. Like Bond's martini, I'm shaken, but not stirred. He's flying and I'm behind. He's rounding the corner towards the start/finish line..lap 1. I'm on him. He's in the wind now. He's doing the work. I'm sticking with him at least till lap 5, where the 5 point prime is. He submits. He lets his teammates take the lead. The greenies are there again...10+ strong. I don't care who is in front. I only care about Rich (#2 place) and Tom (#3rd). I'm your shadow today boys. Lap 5 arrives. The bell rings. The pace going up the hill, into the wind isn't terribly fast. Tom and Rich aren't attacking. I'm juiced. I decide to test them by going for the prime myself. I attack. I zoom up the hill solo, I round the corner and start shooting downhill with the wind. I look back. I've got a huge gap. I round the corner again to the start/finish line and I've got a 100 yards on the field. I reap the 5 points. I slay the dragons. I put a hatchet in their plans. Now they're way behind me on points. I slow down. I let them catch up. I go to part 2 of the plan now, suck wheel behind Rich or Tom, whoever is the fastest. They try a couple of attacks, but I'm motivated. It's now a matter of patience. Patience can overcome many obstacles. I'm eager, but good things to those who wait. The planets are aligning. I can win the GC barring wrecks. The final bell lap. I cruise in behind Rich in 8th place. Tom finishes in 6th, but they only pick up a couple of points on me. I'm good to go. I flash into the parking lot. Bump knuckles with Johanna (Shelle) Bruyneel, my race director. She fishes out a DC and I have my reward. It's so nice.
Summary: I secure the overall GC for Cat 4. Nebraskans sweep the TT podium. Rich and Pete, the ancient warriors, put the hurt on the 30 somethings. And the 20 somethings. They are confused. How can this be? Nebraskans? Old timers? I don't tell them the real secret. The motivator. The DC. They're young, they'll come up with their own drive. Boo-yah! I pocket $120 for winning TT and GC. But no medals. Humph. At least I've got the memories. They can't ever take that away from me. Good memories of happy days. What's next? Put the bike away. Ran 6 miles today after school traffic patrol. Lift, spin, run some more. One more athletic goal for the year. Finish my 1st marathon in a time good enough to qualify for Boston. I'll be motivated!
