Cycling: A Smattering of Specialists, all with a shot to take the cake

When anyone finds something he or she loves, it is very unusual to not hear "I wish I had found [insert subject] sonner!". I am definitely one such person. With cycling, it has never fully hit me that I really wished I could have found it earlier in, say, high school. I have just really enjoyed that I actually started cycling and have had so much enjoyment out of it that the topic had no yet crossed my mind. But the other day, as I stood and watched NYA (my high school) compete in the Western Maine Conference cross country meet, I realized how lackluster my running career had been. I suppose the critical thing is that I really, truly enjoyed myself as long as I was healthy enough to run and compete. While talking to a former coach in track, he asked about my recent interest and competition in cycling. At one point he looked at my legs and said "yeah, you definitely look a lot more suited for it". This immediately brought me back to my first long run in college, when Coach Izzo looked at my legs and asked "You're a cyclist, aren't you?". Nope. "Well you sure look like it." Maybe I should have taken the hint right there. Well...here I am, four years later! Don't get me wrong, I don't regret any bit of my runner career (and will never stop enjoying/loving running itself) but I am just glad I am where I am now.

There are so many elements to cycling, so much is undefined until the finish. A cycling race has much more to it than a running race. You could be the best person out there and cleanly win one day, but barely make the top ten if the exact same race was repeated. I am not, in any way shape or form, knocking running. Part of the beauty of running is its inherent simplicity. Strategy, planning, and pacing definitely shape the outcome of a running race, but most of it relies on one's physical standing and the mental capacity to perform to your physical maximum. Some would say that this is more fair of a setting, and I love the unique cut-and-dry aspect of running. In cycling there is a massive piece that is physical and emotional like running, but there is so much that requires instantaneous calculation of the best way to react to an event. One second too late, and the race could be lost. If you hesitate in running, you can recover (or maybe have to find a way to make up a second or two). If you hesitate in cycling, the break goes and you're toast...or you blow too much energy and your legs become a time bomb, getting ever closer to exploding.

Another thing that is amazing about cycling is that you have a variety of specialists in a single race, regardless of distance. In running, the biggest crossover is that 10K guy who is jumping into a half marathon. Some people might be closers and finish strong, but that has very small bearing (how many times have you seen somebody close a 10 second gap at the last mile of a marathon to take the win?). Even the aforementioned scenario is more likely to be due to one runner bonking/cramping and the other holding strong - not specifically having a huge kick. When you have a cycling race, you have sprinters, flyers, guys with high FTP (the time trial - TT - types), and climbers. That's a lot of various skillsets in the same peloton; and depending on the day, the course, wind, teammates, and race development anyone of those types can take it. This may seem frustrating because it indicates that the 'strongest' guy (or girl) doesn't always win. I've been in races where I was likely the strongest (Concord Crit 2011) and didn't win - I took 5th. To explain the 'strongest' assumption, I managed 1st at a higher caliber race (Witches Cup 2011) 5 days later against many of the same athletes and many more. There have been races where I don't think I was strongest (or smartest) and pulled out a win - Norwell Circuit Race 2010 - on my very first cycling race ever.

This intrigues me greatly and really leaves only one option for every man on the road: race smart and race like you're going to win. If you don't you won't win, it's that simple. Nothing guarantees winning, but if anything at all gets you on your way to the podium it's racing smart and confidently. Recently, I had a lapse of being smart and confident on a group ride sprint. This ride has 4 major sprints, all of which are pretty highly contested week after week. There is only one I have not taken, and I ended up in an excellent position to go for it thanks to my teammate, Jamie Wright. When I took off from Jamie's wheel I was about 200m from the hydrant that marks the finish and was in lead. With 75m to go I could tell someone was on my wheel because he went to overtake me. I gave a surge when he was past my rear wheel, but he kept coming. At this point I had my lapse of confidence: I thought "Oh shit, I just laid it down and he's still moving up on me." Then, as my cadence started to peak and go past 105rpm, I didn't think to shift so I could bite off a bigger gear and slam out the last 25m or so. At this point we were nearly level, and when I gave it my last push I essentially 'spun out' (meaning that I couldn't increase my cadence any more) rather than giving a final surge. I lost the sprint by about 10cm (4 inches). The guy who beat me is quite well known, mainly for his career as an NHL Defenseman for 17 years, but is an absolute crusher on the bike. This would be Eric Weinrich. Now, some people would say "He's of a different breed. For chrissakes he played in the NHL!" My take is: "So what if he came off of my wheel? Or that he is Category 2 and has been known to never stand - even on Dutton Hill or Depot Rd?" The first viewpoint is quite fair, but mine is that I faulted twice (however minimal) in the last 5-7 seconds of the sprint and thus lost it. I have no intent of letting myself back down again, regardless of the competition.

That's why cycling is so great. I had a great leadout and a solid jump on the sprint, but got overtaken with less than 10 meters to go. I'd say that is down to the wire. And this is just one sprint point on a group ride.