Orwell Wheelers 2015 Club League Round 04: Corkagh Park crit. Reverse direction lap.

Long Story short, I  finished 17th with the front group.

Here's the slowmotion video that Dan captured of the finish. Look out for me coasting in on the hoods, Thug Luke.

Orwell Club League R4 - 22 April 2015 from dancoulcher on Vimeo.

How the race unfolded

View the ride on Strava here.

Ben Hurr ain't got shit on me :P A few close calls with the other riders, but I got by. My return is almost Doug Stamper-esque, a few episodes ago, I was a cripple (without the government benefits) now my character arc has reversed and I'm no longer stalking ex-girlfriends on my laptop as I ride the turbo trainer. This is a joke, and a reference to season three of House of Cards.

We raced the track in reverse. I was apprehensive about the longer uphill. My confidence was down as I didn't feel fantastic during my sprint drills yesterday. But I knew that the final corner wouldn't be as big a choke point as racing the other direction.

I think I got my fueling strategy and warm-up correct tonight. At 17:07, I consumed a John West Steam Pot, 70g of Bombay Mix and a Banana. 10 mins before the race, I slowly ate a Nutri-Grain bar. Other people were consuming gels. I did one lap small ring, one lap big ring, one lap small, then stretches. Got back on the bike for more small ring, and big ring laps. Added some sprints and hard laps in there too.

There was a big crowd at the race this evening. It started, and quickly lined out. I sat on Ann Horan's wheel for a few laps. Just like Stephen last week, I knew she'd be there, or there abouts at the end and would be a good guide in navigating the opening laps. Then I figured out where to move up. I gunned it down the first straight, and found myself in third position. The other guys pulled off during the remainder of the lap. So there I was at the front of the group, clear road in front of me, I wound it up and went at a pace I could sustain. I adopted the TT position. Before the first turn, I looked at my back wheel and the group were only halfway down the straight. I considered making a long-range bid for glory, but I decided against it, as this was very early in the race. I sat on the top-tube on the first downhill straight and waited for the others. I joined back in, slipping down the order as I searched for a gap in the wheels.

I noticed that I was very strong on the uphill section. My seated spinning style was outperforming the grindy, out of the saddle antics of those trying to move up around me. I like the lap in this direction. You're on the drops for 60% of the lap, and on the hoods for the other 39%. The missing 1% accounts for my hand gestures (the influence of the Italians in my life).

I was riding in a relaxed state, not out of breath until the final two laps. I was able to exchange a few words with the others around me. Today I remembered something, within me, lies a beast. A beast full of rage. On one lap, some guy wizzed down my inside. I immediately, became incised. The beast was awake. "Fucking call when you're coming down the inside!" I yelled. He didn't hear me. "Pull up beside him, and call him a cunt!" the beast articulated. We all have to get up and work in the morning, this is not life and death... for me anyway.

I decided that the best course of action would be to ride hard and hopefully beat this guy... I'm pretty sure he placed. But I was teetering on the edge of reason, a mental and emotional place I had not frequented since my first season of Tag Rugby. I heard Garrett and some other guy encouraging the group to work hard. Next time through the lap I decided to encourage the group twice in quick succession "Pedal through the fucking corners" and "Speed up down the straight, ye cunts". It worked. I think I have a future as a Road Captain, or a DS.

I noticed some Semi-Limit guys permeate our group. I was waiting for them to gut us like the previous week. But only six made the catch. I was doing well, moving up on three-quarters of the lap and holding position on the other quarter. I looked at my Garmin's lap time field, 39 minutes, 59 seconds. Then I heard shouts, urging responses to the attacks that would occur in the final five minutes and two laps. I responded well to the changes in pace. I could imagine people going out the back door, due to the accordion effect of crit racing. They didn't matter, the race was unfolding in front of me.

In the last few laps, there were people shouting "C'mon Luke". I was actually riding beside the younger "Luke". I said to him, "Are they shouting for you, or for me? Did you bring your fan club?" #InterLukeBanter #NonLukesWouldNotUnderstand #JustLukeThings

The urge to attack never entered my mind. There wasn't enough space to move up. The pace was rocketing, without a wheel, I would not last long. I was hoping that the group would continue to whittle down as the pace went up. Leaving me as the sixth placed rider and netting one point. This didn't happen. A series of people in front of me breaking on the second last corner derailed my attempts to empty the tank in the last 300 meters. I rounded the last corner in a decent position and went full gas to the line, I gapped the other group behind and came in very shortly after the winners.

I feel like I'm really getting going now and I hope I can race more this season. But I'll soon be moving back to the late shift.

What was learned

I learned a few things this week.

• My bunch handling skills are getting better... or else luckier.
• I need to awaken "the beast" earlier in the race.
• I'm making progress and a placing isn't too far away.
• My training is working well.
• 17th place is better than last week's 28th place.