by Laura Weislo
Race: French Broad Cycling Classic
Date: August 2-4, 2002
Place: Asheville, NC
Subaru French Broad Cycling Classic Omnium Asheville, North Carolina
Women’s bike racing is very different from Men’s racing. The fields are much smaller and categories are always combined, so there is a wider range of abilities going on in the same race. In the men’s fields, most of the riders are at very similar levels. Even in races such as this one where the category 4 women have their own race, there are very distinct separations in strength in the combined category 1,2,3 field. Two years ago, I raced this omnium as a new cat 4, and was thrown to the wolves in a race with the likes of Shannon Hutchinson, Tina Mayolo, and Christina Underwood – I was happy just to finish. Last year as a cat 4, I won the criterium and the overall omnium when the 4’s had a separate field, and I used the points to move up to category 3. This year, I didn’t know quite what to expect of the start list, so I nervously scanned the updated time trial start list online all week long to see who was going to be there. I knew there were a lot of women up at ‘Toona racing the International stage race, so I didn’t expect to see a lot of big names there. Elite triathlete Alison Hardy, who won the road race here last year, was on the list as were many other strong category 3 women, but overall the field looked pretty evenly matched for once. I geared myself up for a tough battle, hoping to repeat my overall win.
River Road Time Trial
Last year, Kathleen Gleason and Candace Blickem dominated the time trial by nearly 2 minutes over the rest of the women. I knew Kathleen wasn’t racing, and had heard Candance was up in ‘Toona, so I set my aim for the time trial on last year’s 3rd place time by Alison Hardy. If wanted to win the time trial, I would have to best her time of 29:44, so I hoped I could manage a 29:30 for the flat 20K – this would be 1:30 faster than my time last year, but I had my spiffy new time trial bike that my super-mechanic husband had put together for me, so I had to be that much faster!
I got to the course in plenty of time, feeling optimistic about the race. But just then the skies began to grow dark and ominous thunder rumbled in the distance. Great, a repeat of the Giro di Coppi, I thought, and trudged over to registration with my umbrella. The sense of doom grew stronger as the rain battered the aluminium awning over the registration desk, and then I saw the name on the start sheet - Candace Blickem. <CRASH!> There went my realistic chance of winning this race. I overheard someone saying she had a bad time at 'Toona and was out for blood. Fantastic - like she needs an excuse to crush anyone on the bike. I guessed that the weekend would be Candace and then the best of the rest. C'est la vie - I'd be happy with best of the rest, but I wasn't going to just lay down and die either. I secretly hoped the storm would continue for her early start time, but well before the first rider climbed the start ramp, the skies had cleared.
I did a nice warmup, got to the start in plenty of time, picked up a fresh water bottle from my coach and hit the start ramp. Whooooaaaaaaah nelly. Staring down that ramp in my super-low cow horns that are much further forward and lower than my normal bars was an adrenaline pumping experience! As the official counted down the time, I concentrated all my efforts on making sure I would make it to the tarmac alive. 5…4…3…2…1…pedal…roll… wheeee! I made it down in one piece, and quickly got up to speed. I spent the first 5 minutes trying to control my hyperventilation from the start ramp experience. I settled into a rhythm and then –whooosh--- I got passed by my husband who started 30 seconds after me. He gave me a breathless cheer, and I pushed on. I concentrated on keeping a good cadence, pushing a good gear when ----whooosh---- Joey D’Antoni, a cat 1 guy from Raleigh zoomed by me on his fixed gear, his disk wheel rumbling like a Big Wheel. Trying not to feel slow, I got back into the zone, checking my splits against the mileage markers on the road. Damn! I’m on a 30 minute + pace! I pushed harder, determined to hit the turn around before 15 minutes. I made it, just, and then proceeded to have the world’s slowest turn around. “That sucked”, I said out loud as I completed the turn. I slapped it into a bigger gear and gave it everything on the return trip. I noticed the mileage slipping by a bit faster than before, and then I remembered that the first leg is slightly more uphill than the return. My goal still in reach, I focused all my efforts on turning a perfect pedal stroke, then on getting a little higher cadence on the gear, then on that darn Everclear song I heard on the drive up (aak! focus!). I visualized my pedals as winding up a string that was reeling my in closer to the finish. At 2.5K to go, I was within reach of my target time, and I had a rabbit – I was catching an earlier starter. I passed him with 1K to go, my legs on fire with pain, I gasped “Left!” as I passed. I kept low and aero, but I could hear Phil Liggett commentating in my head, “she’s pushing a HUGE gear, rocking and rolling, she’s all over the bike. Those legs are absolutely BURNING with agony”. Finally, I saw the finish and gave it everything I had left for the last 100 meters, and came across the line with a 29:38 or so! So close to my goal, and good enough for 2nd place, just barely edging Alison out. Of course, Candace won by well over two minutes. I was actually really pleased with best of the rest in this case because I knew Candace is an awesome time trialist, but I also knew she had a harder time with hills. Perhaps with a little luck I could get the better of her in the road race...
Canton Papertown Association Road Race
Last year I raced this course in a positive monsoon. It can’t possible be as bad as that, I kept telling myself. Our race was at 1:50pm, and by the time I rolled to the line, it was over 90 degrees outside. I was really glad my husband had raced in the morning and would be in the feed zone for me. This was gonna hurt. I looked around the start and saw a lot more women than had done the time trial, and guess who’s here, and with fresh legs? Iona Wynter, an Olympic Triathlete and super strong road racer. This was really gonna hurt. I’m a decent climber, but she is stellar.
The first two miles were neutral, but even after we officially started racing, the group rolled along at a steady tempo. I kept a wary eye on Alison and watched out for attacks from Candace, who is famous for attacking early. We made it through the feed zone before anyone started racing, and everything was still together when we hit the first climb. I focused on holding a good position on the climb, but conserving my energy for the rest of the 52 miles and several thousand feet of climbing to come. I was mid-pack when we hit the first descent and Candace went. She is a fearless descender, and she flew away down the hill. I am not so fearless, and I struggled to maintain contact with the pack. When we got to the bottom and made the turn, I was in a chase group of 5 desperately trying to regain the front group. It took us miles, and I was sure I wouldn’t make it. I was dying, and there were probably 15 girls up the road.
We chased hard up the second climb, and were getting closer when the lead pack sat up and we all jumped on. I moved my way up through the bunch for the descent, but was quickly shuffled backwards on the twisty, fast downhill, (damn and blast! I suck at descents!). A group was off the front, but I couldn’t see who or how many when we hit the third and most difficult climb. I was still in dismal spirits on the first part of the climb, sure that I’d been dropped for good and contemplating dropping out when I looked up and saw some girls crawling up the hill not too far ahead. I picked up the pace, and started passing them one by one. On the short descent, I felt the fear start to vanish, and bombed it. On the super-tough second part of the hill, I picked up two more women who jumped onto my wheel. We came to the steepest part of the climb, a nasty switchback at about 10%. At the middle of the switchback, there were two ladies in lawnchairs ringing cowbells and cheering us on, and then just around the bend was a car full of guys cheering like crazy! It was pretty funny – a nice distraction from the pain.
I asked the other two how many were up the road, and they said three. Well! That was a bit better! I knew Candace and Iona were up there, and I assumed Alison was, too. The strongest riders in the bunch were up the road together, and I was not optimistic that we would catch them, but at least I wasn’t 20th on the road or something.
The three of us worked together on the flat section, and just before the feed zone, a group of four bridged up to us. Our group of 7 worked steadily together for the second lap, but at every intersection, the marshalls were giving us ever increasing time splits to the break. 1:20…2:00….2:45…. I stopped listening. I focused on conserving my energy, eating and drinking often, and biding my time. On the third lap, no one attacked, it was as if we were all just happy to survive to finish. I let the others dictate the tempo on the first climb, and just sat in. On the second hill, Jodi Kosinski started to set a high tempo, and then backed off. Not willing to give anyone too much rest, I took over and pushed some more before backing off. Marianne Holt came to the front and had several of the girls gasping before we crested the second climb, and then we bombed the twisty descent and made the final right hand turn to the last wicked climb all together.
I hate field sprints, but I hate sprinting even more at the end of a long, hard, hilly road race. This was my third omnium in a month, the third hilly road race, and the other two ended up with me getting spanked in a sprint. I did NOT want to suffer like that again. As we hit the first section of the climb, I went to the front and pushed the pace to about 98% of my max, testing the waters. I looked back and saw I had a gap of a bike length or so. I continued to push, and stole another peek back – the gap was a bit bigger! I got out of the saddle, gave it just a little more gas, and pushed hard over the top and down the short descent and up to the brutal steep switchbacks. The ladies rang their cowbells and cheered again, and as I made the turn up the switchback, I could see the rest of the group struggling up the lower portion of the climb. Now I really had to do or die. I kept telling myself to get far enough ahead before the end of the climb so I wouldn’t be in sight – there was still 3 or 4 miles after the crest before the finish, and I needed to be out of sight, out of mind. I passed a guy from another field who was walking his bike up the climb (ouch) – he gave me a cheer, and I pushed a little harder. Damn this climb was long! I was suffering, but I knew the others were suffering, too, and I had to get a bigger lead.
Finally, I hit the crest, the sweat drenching my jersey felt cool as I picked up speed. I tucked low and fought off the urge to feather the brakes on the descent. I ducked to the side of the road to hide myself from view, and took a peek behind before I dove into the next bend – outta sight. I made the final left into the finishing straight, and began telling myself to time trial. I looked back at 1 mile to go, and could see a chase of three about 30 seconds behind and looking very determined. “No way! I will NOT get caught!” I told myself, and I begged my legs to give it a little more. Finally, I hit the bridge at 500m to go and knew I had it. I had enough time to sit up and give the thumbs-up to my friend Eric who was at the finish. Best of the rest again, but at least I didn't have to sprint for it! I did some more math. Iona had won, Candace had taken second. I could hold onto either a tie for second or third place if I finished ahead of the right people in the crit. I knew I didn't stand a chance against Iona - the crit course had a big long hill in it. I couldn't realistically overtake Candace on the GC unless I got away and she finished 10 places back - highly unlikely. Since Alison wasn't doing the crit, all I had to do was hang on and I could get 3rd overall. So why was I so incredibly nervous?
Sunday-The Crit
I was freakin' the morning of the crit. At 11am it was already a billion degrees,
and when I got on the bike and did a pre-race lap of the course, I found that the
hill was longer than I had thought. The downhill following it was fast, and had a
right turn at the bottom. I could tell exactly what was going to happen, and I felt
powerless to stop it. Sure enough, Candace attacked on the downhill on the second lap, Iona went with her and I was too chicken to follow on the descent. I
tried to bridge up to them with Christina Meyer of Outspokin', but we weren't making very much progress and I just didn't have it to keep pushing. Mental
breakdown. Christina pushed on and eventually reached the two, but the next lap
she was blown off the back of the break and very quickly came back to the field.
Again, I decided to let the break go and concentrate on holding my omnium position. I tried attacking on the hill a couple times, but I just didn't have the
strength to get away. I attacked on the downhill a couple times as I got more and more comfortable with the descent and the turn, but there was a strong
headwind through the start/finish that discouraged solo breakaways. I really
wanted to get in a break with Jody Kosinski since she had worked so hard in the previous day's break, but it never happened.
When the announcer called 6 laps to go, I was dying, and honestly didn't think I
could make 6 more miles of the course. It was brutally hot, windy and hilly. My legs felt like worthless sacks of lead.
At 2 laps to go, the announcer called a $25 prime, and I moved up into a good position. As we were starting the climb, the referee came up on the moto and
told us the break was coming up from behind. This was tricky - if they caught us
and sprinted at the end of the lap, that was a finish for us. I didn't want to take
any chances of getting washed out in the sprint if that happened, so I moved up to second wheel on the descent and prepared to sprint. At the 200m point the
girl on the front began to fade, and I caught a glimpse of a red jersey coming up
on my left and I started to sprint. When I saw that it was Adrienne Brown of
Earthfare, I sat back down and let her take the prime. I guess Candace and Iona
decided not to interfere with our race, and the bell was rung for our last lap. After the prime, I got shuffled to the back before the hill, and had to do some
weaving and bobbing up the hill to get back into a good position. I was second
wheel again coming into the final turn. We were really moving, and as we hit the
bridge before 200m to go, I felt my bike jumping from side to side when I hit the
metal seams on the bridge, my rear wheel making a hideous clacking. Fearing my
rear skewer had come loose, I didn't get out of the saddle to sprint, and pushed
hard to hold off all the sprinters coming from behind. I watched as a Genesis Scuba jersey flew by, followed by a few others, and then I threw my bike across
the line, 5th in the sprint.
Phew! Was I glad THAT was over! I held onto third in the omnium and could finally
relax. My season is drawing to a close, and I only have a couple more races to do. I have achieved my one goal that I had at the start of the season: to be able
to hang in the Open races. I managed to do what I had thought was impossible at the beginning of the year and had managed to get just enough points to
upgrade to category 2.
I can't wait to have a few weekends to relax and work on my house (cut my waist-high grass!) and then start training for next year!