Purgatory RR: In bullet points.

The Race: Attack, fail, more attacks, fail, break got away, attack extremely hard, get pulled back, assume position of "pack filler" with no more attacks left. Feel like shit on climb #2. Sit in middle of pack. Miss big crash, smell lots of burning rubber/carbon, thank myself that I wasn't up there in the attacking this lap. Fell like crap on climb #3. Work with fellow stragglers to rejoin pack. Sit in literally the back of the pack. Feel okay on climb #4. Feel good after climb #5...three guys get away through the start/finish. Take a BIG pull on the downhill, someone (John Harris) attacks just before the feed zone, somehow I match the attack with one other.

The three of us (Harris, Eric Follen, and I) go balls out (at least I was going that hard) and separate from field. I say "oh crap" just before the finish of the feed zone hill because I thought I had imploded. Muster strength to get on wheels of the other two. Work our asses off to catch the 3 who got away 1K before us. Catch those 3. Establish lead over field, catch remnants of break and immediately drop them...except Keith Kelly (who cramped horribly) who is beast enough to survive with us despite said cramps.

Only 4 guys up the road (they would place 1-4), with our group of 7 in a clear gap of the peloton to take 5th-11th...until, when I was feeling absolutely pumped about the final climb - the first time in the race when I wasn't concerned about how I'd get up it, 4K to go when suddenly (while pedaling totally steady and not hard at all) my groin locked up horribly. I had to jump off my bike. Tried stretching, couldn't even clip in, stretched again, no dice, stretched again (knowing the pack was coming soon), tried pedaling single leg, no dice. Tried walking, no dice. Field passes me. Stragglers pass me. Still can't do anything to rid myself of cramps. DNF.

Got a ride back from a kind gentleman...who offered me a beer to which I kindly declined, he had a road beer - that lifted my spirits and made me chuckle. Internally, of course.

My take: I rode an aggressive race to start - and simply missed the break because I was in between attacks and not because I was away from the front of the race. I was extremely patient and recovered once I knew that bridging to the break was out of the question. Slowly, I regained strength, and put it ALL on the line when the moment seemed right. It was. I put myself in position for a great result in a very strong field. I rode smart in the chase group, not overexerting and not covering gaps that opened. I had never ridden like that (intelligent) in my life. For some reason, without a major stimulus (I didn't do anything to spark it) and simply from the wear and tear of the race, I cramped up like never before: in Tucson and Battenkill I had really bad cramps but was able to land 4th and 15th (top group) in those races.

I'm happy with Purgatory this year - especially with how dumb I was last year. Just didn't quite have it in me. I'm quite bummed about how it ended, I would've understood if I exploded to my demise on the last climb. But not on an easy false flat. I proved a few things to myself yesterday and, for that, I am pleased.

Time to train it up and prep the body (and mind) for the next race...whenever it may be.

Purgatory Road Race 2012

Here is a debrief I wrote to an email group regarding the Purgatory Road Race in Sutton, MA on 6/10. I need a filler report before I delve into my write-up for the Tour of Washington County Stage Race (and Friday's Kick-Off Criterium).

Purgatory Cat 3 Race Report: A lesson on how not to race bikes (unless you are working for a teammate in the peloton. But even then, such racing is highly discouraged haha).

We were also set for a good 5 laps at 11 miles each, totaling ~4500ft gain. The course has a seemingly MASSIVE elevation loss and a noticeable, but not nearly as massive gain. (Hank et al, correct me if this seems incorrect). After the neutral start 12 riders got away, no one cared to ride faster than 20mph. The first thing Joe, myself, and a few friends of mine (who were planning an attack after the climb on lap 3 of 5) heard was 1:30 gap with 12 riders in the break. I had no idea this even happened because I - for the first time in my racing career - took the advice of many to stay away from the front as I tend to work myself for no reason.

The gap got to 2:25 (I think) and I was sick of the field making no effort. I slipped off the front when taking a pull and no one did anything, mini effort and I had 50m. I stuck my head down and rode hard. Quickly I had 30s on the field and half a lap later as the legs were getting quite heavy I was within 60sec (!!!) of the break. Sadly I was not fresh due to the Nutmeg races the day before, or I would have laid it all on the line in effort to make it onto the climb and go to war on that 1K hill to latch onto the break. However, the pack swallowed me up, but we were now withing 80sec of the break - which was slowly falling apart. Very few wanted to work aside from myself and sir Joe Lynch. We knew a couple things: 1) if we sat it wasn't going to come back and our best placement possible would be 8, even with the falling apart breakaway and 2) we didn't come this far to sit around with a pack of individuals satisfied with a poor placing.

Joe and I made attacks and drilled the field for the remaining two laps, each of us gapping the field on multiple occasions. The efforts Joe put in were (as expected) massive and unforgiving. At one point on the backside of the course where there was the 250m 3% climb, I thought I popped - I started to get the chills/goosebumps/cramps - and told Joe and another fellow whom we were off the front with that I had officially imploded. I slowed to something shy of 5mph and the field was on me before I could relax. I barely latched on and somehow recovered to continue to assault with Joe.

Now we were within 60 sec once again after falling back to 90+ sec on the third lap. It was clear we were devouring the pavement between ourselves and the breakaway because while taking a pull on a long straight I saw SRAM Neutral Support. 1K later, it was pulled into a driveway. As Bob Roll would say, "The referees have declared that the breakaway will be caught, the team cars are being stopped along the road." I must note that during the last feedzone a gutsy individual took it upon himself to win. He broke away from the breakaway and won cleanly.

We passed the SRAM car and it was on to the final climb. Taking the right-hander to the 1K climb, Joe was fully exploded and I was rendered something just shy of dead. We eased up the rest of the climb and called it a day.

Final result: the breakaway (except for the valiant lone ranger who went solo) did not survive and nor did we. The friends I had in the field and was hoping I would help did not have sufficient legs to place or collect money. Joe displayed his classic capacity to endure and endure, especially on a course that wasn't quite his forte. Although, when you can dig deep like Joe every course is your course. I made an effort to do (what I feel is) one of the most amazing feats in cycling, bridge the gap to a break. However, I could not sustain the effort and am a bit stronger because of it.

Battenkill 2012 Race Report

Battenkill 2012 Race Report: Travis Kroot, Category 4 (Yellow) - Pictures to be added as they surface!

Note: this is my individual race report - I hope to do a report that encompasses Jon's race and notes the excellent performances of all the other great Maine cyclists who took on the Battenkill. Likely to be placed on the Base-36 cycling blog. Stay tuned!

I will give a quick lead-in to this…I ambitiously signed up for Battenkill in December as a Category 3 while I was still Cat 4. I was hoping to get early season race points before Battenkill and upgrade. However, I was only able to manage hitting a couple pre-season crits and did get some good places (two firsts, a 5^th, and a 4^th). Nevertheless, they don’t count as upgrade points and the kind race directors of Battenkill switched me into the Cat 4 field. I was very excited to race Battenkill, regardless of the field I was in…it was going to be EPIC!

Race week was amongst us and Jon and I spent our last preparations for Battenkill doing “way too little” riding this past week. But we both had great legs today! We drove out Friday (yesterday) AM and got to Cambridge, NY before noon. Hit pre-reg and the (boring) expo, then headed off to pre-ride the first 15 miles of the course (including hill #1, Juniper). The hillier than expected sections before and after Juniper resulted in a slightly hard than intended day before race ride, but it was good to shake our one-day cobwebs out! We stretched out then drove the course and took very diligent notes on all aspects – not just the hills. After the drive we ate a sufficient but not at all spectacular meal at the Cambridge Hotel (it was good! Just with the Battenkill being so epic our expectations were rather high). Following dinner we settled into our respective places of rest and hit the hay.

Race Day: 100km, 62.25 miles, 3950ft +/- elevation gain/loss. 10 dirt sections totaling ~25% of the net mileage.

Boom baby!

We headed into the hustle and bustle of Cambridge at 8:30AM – 2500 cyclists and the spectators and volunteers that come with it shake up a little town/village like Cambridge. It was an EVENT. Not just a race. It was well run, beautiful, and epic. My race started at 11:00AM sharp, Jon’s at 1:50PM! He was going to be anxiously waiting around quite a while before his race…and I would pay my dues on the back end, excitedly awaiting his finish. I started my warm up, and after checking both my sets of wheels in my bike (gotta have extras in case of a flat) I had somehow altered my shifting and could not access the three large cogs on my cassette – BIG PROBLEM! The fellows at the Mavic support tent got it figured out, but I later discovered that my shifting was still shifty…but was OK for racing, it definitely made me nervous about shifting if it came down to a sprint (recalling my broken collarbone). I’m not sure how it got messed up because it was shifting beautifully on Friday’s pre-ride. Looks like I need to get bike mechanic skills ASAP. I got warmed up (20 mins nice and easy) saw the OA/CycleMania guys and we gave one another our regards for a safe and strong 100 kilometers. Then it was to line up at 10:50 and it was gametime.

The race started out easy (neutral 1K start) and stayed easy for a few miles. After mile 4 it picked up to get position for the covered bridge – turn @ mile 5.1 and bridge @ mile 5.3. Made it through in the top 10 and we were into the first dirt section @ mile 6.0. Everything was pretty relaxed for a while, I helped push the pace a little on the climb @ mile 8 or so to try to feel out the field…but nothing was happening yet. I was able to scout 3 of the guys who eventually were in the last group of 8 – so I had 50% of the strong guys marked. Juniper hill was nothing crazy, I led up over (seated in my 39-27) and pushed hard down the first bit of descent in effort to keep the early stragglers off. This is where I mark this race as a massive asterisk to anyone who wants to understand the Category 4 Battenkill. ***No one in this group would work together. It was a battle to get people to get out of their own way! As a reference, most of the Cat 4’s finished in 2:53 or so and we barely broke 3 hours. Not a HUGE time difference, but very surprising considering the strength the field showed from miles 40 and on.*** No one really made an effort to work the tempo and we were rejoined with a massive field (ugh). I stayed up front for most of the next sections to stay safe and waste some energy like I am so well known to do – oops. Rich Rd @ mile 14.6 was nice and clean and the dirt was good riding. Nothing interesting really happened for a long while, randomly coming off of a pull I found myself and another guy with a 15m gap. He kept rolling and we got a small gap. I was well aware he was not the type of guy I would even consider breaking with, but he was a nice guy and we took it easy and chatted it up for a bit. Through Feed Zone #1 @ mile 22.4 and we were caught by 23.0, which was nice because I was no longer stuck out front. I finished my bottle by mile 22 and switched my spare from my pocket into my cage – the ol’ self-sufficient feed zone.

Another few miles of easy riding and we came to Carney Cassidy @ mile 26.0, which is a dirt section with an early stiff climb and then another stiff section @ 27.2 (but neither were anything crazy – the group pretty much stayed intact until Wrights Rd and Meeting House Rd in the 45ish mile range). I crested the pavement section of Carney with some really solid pace and looked around, a few of us had separated the field slightly. Then I got blasted with a headwind over the crest. The guy on my wheel said, “That’s a bummer, had we not gotten hit with wind I would’ve made a go at it with you.” Agreed, sir…but alas we were stuck with the most frustrating race field with whom I had ever been placed. Miles 30-34 were once again easy-ish going (ate and drank here). Then @ mile 34.0 we hit Safford Rd, which was the most gravel covered climb so far and the descent was definitely a bit shaky – tight turns off camber, and not a great surface. Up over Safford we still had a group sized around 40 or so. Clearly, we had a lot of guys with a minimum of “good fitness”…but soon we would find out those who were “fit”! On the descent of Safford I gapped the group a little as I spaced out on the really sketchy turn on the descent…luckily I held tight and once the group rejoined one guy said “Man! You really crushed that and handled it well.” I quickly informed him that I was thankful the rear panel of my bibs were black rather than white (in a less formal and PC manner, of course).

Then @ mile 39.1 we hit Cheesecake Factory Rd – a really rough section of gravel road that had no “good” line you could take. Plus, we had started over-taking a lot of the earlier races’ stragglers and thus did not have much choice of line. A few of us took some hefty pulls here, but as Cheesecake was pretty darn flat nothing really happened…maybe we shed a couple guys who had poor handling or low confidence? 41.5 to 44 was easy, as the group once again did not want to work with each other and were awaiting the glory of Meeting House Rd!

Wrights Rd came along @ mile 44.6 and we were back on dirt – good dirt this time. Up the climb, probably the smoothest climb I had of the day in spite of my calves already experiencing pretty steady spasms! I was NOT AT ALL pleased at this fact and couldn’t figure out why this was happening. I shrugged it off and accepted that it was going to continue. If I had a full muscle cramp/seize, then I would consider it. Then came the most unexpected part of the race: after the small uphill on Wrights Rd the surface turned absolutely horrendous. I was not the least bit prepared – neither in skill nor mentally – for this section. It was very deep, very loose gravel and sand. Fishtailing was more common than line-holding and things got quite jittery. I actually was emotionally prepared to crash and then chase back onto the group right after. I have decent handling but this was something for the cyclocross and mountain bike guys! Every time I had to put effort into stabilization and pedaling simultaneously I was getting more and more calf and anterior tibialis spasms…I wasn’t sure how things were going to hold up but was committed to not letting anyone get away from me.

Through Wrights Rd without any issues and we were very quickly approaching Meeting House Rd, still with 40 men in tow. This is where my frustration with this group was released. We hit Meeting House @ mile 48.6. I sat 3^rd wheel to start the climb onto the dirt but very soon found myself on the front and laying down the hammer. I wanted to shed everyone I could without blowing myself up. It was time to create the separation: those who were prepared to win, and those who couldn’t. I worked it hard up the first part, then @ mile 49.5 it quickly kicks hard and I ramped right though it at pace. I didn’t look anywhere but forward and down. After a good time on the front another guy (Chris, a professional triathlete in ITU racing – yes, a PRO) took over and continued the dishing of the hurt. Once we crested Meeting House onto pavement I dropped back. There were about 8 guys in front of me so I looked back to find a place to settle in. There was one guy to my left…one to my right…and only one more behind me. We were officially down to 12 riders! I smiled at the notion that minutes before we had nearly four times as many riders in our group. J.

Shredding the field on the front...and clearly going very deep to do so. Just speaks that much more of the final group we had.

 The one thing I did not smile at was the spasms that had steadily developed over Meeting House Rd in my quads. Things were starting to go for some reason, even though I felt strong still. As long as no seizing happened in my calves or quads, I was all set. Spasms are completely manageable.

It was off to the races…finally we had a group who knew what the hell they were doing in a race! We HAMMERED downhill, blasting through and taking pulls. It was clear everyone in the group had no intent of anyone returning to our separated group of 12. From 51.5-54 it is very fast, then smooth until 56. Once it was pretty clear the riders behind us were completely shattered, the pace relaxed and the paceline SUCKED. Some guys would pull through then it would stop. This inconveniently kept happening for Chris – the pro tri guy. So I let him pull ahead of me, then I took his wheel and pulled through for him. I found myself stuck on the front. Clearly someone was messing up pretty seriously and sucking wheel…imagine if we all did that! We could have a group of 20 annoying wheelsuckers in no time as the shattered souls regained life upon rejoining the leader’s pack.

Next up: @ mile 56.1 – Stage road. The final test; a solid dirt hill that is pretty outright relentless 56 miles into a tough race. I knew my fitness was fine to stick this out no matter what. My quads had started to experience some serious spasms on the last part of Meeting House Rd and I didn’t know what unkind words they would be shouting at me as we hit Stage Rd. Frankly, I didn’t care – I’ll insert the classic “Shut up legs” here. Stage Rd hit the group hard. No one was too keen on pulling. One guy surged up the left and quickly changed his mind on attempting to lead the pack. I decided it was time to just go with the pack and not dictate the pace on a hill (finally, eh?!). Another guy (whom I later found out was a professional athlete) finally made his showing of strength. Mike started working Stage Rd pretty good – I asked him what his PowerTap was showing for Stage and he said we didn’t let up on 500W for it and pushed over 600W at some points, but “settled” into 550W or so. Settle was right! We only lost 3 or 4 of the group of 12 by the time we crested Stage Rd.

This was it. I (we) had long awaited to be in the small group of riders who would eventually make the go for the win and deserve the glory that one gets by finishing Battenkill in the lead pack. We were the top 5% of this field of 125. The previous 57.8 miles separated the men from the boys…but the last 4.4 miles would separate 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd…all the way through 8^th. I had no intent to be anything but #1 in spite of my legs wanting to give out for some reason. I still had strength, but for some reason things were giving out. Now was no time to be concerned with that though.

We hit the 5k, 4k, 3k. People stopped wanting to work, but there was still a little paceline going on – just not hard. I took one pull (which I planned to be my second to last pull) and awaited my next pull through to bring me up towards the front with 1500m to go. 1K is a HUGE point here – the road is completely close from 1K to go and we would have free use of the road, but no one would want to be nose into the wind. My pull never came. The group let up and I was STUCK! Last wheel – literally. I didn’t panic, I tried passing on the left, but the cones leading into the 1K to go were on our left and I was blocked on the right. 

After the road opened up @ 1K, I moved up left and was able to half tuck in, sharing 4^th wheel. The bulk of the group was sticking right to take the corner on the inside. I had planned this out, I was going to stay slightly left…and when the group swung fast around the right turn with 400m to go I would hold my line and slip into 2^nd or 3^rd wheel. However, Chris laid it down! With 550m to go he started pulling as if he would rip the cranks off of his bike. I am not exaggerating one bit. I WISHED I had been 2^nd wheel to him…I would be invincible. I shit you not, he ramped up the pace to something I had never experienced in a leadout, he was in full TT mode – going to the gutter with every last drop of gas his professionally tuned legs had (he can run a 14:13 5K). And here I was, stuck out in the wind, holding pace with him. I quickly decided I would be waiting on the sprint with the power he was putting out – he did not let up one bit.

Finally, with about 150-200m to go, Mike moved out from third wheel and started for the line. The guy on second wheel did not do a damn thing. I pulled up on Chris’ left and laid it down. I had already made my fatal mistake. I overgeared. I didn’t have the acceleration I should have – ESPECIALLY on a sprint of such a short distance. Part of it was my concern of the gearing slipping as my bike wasn’t shifting perfectly throughout the race – I had noticed the most issue in my smallest 3 cogs, conveniently the places where I would start and end my sprint! So I hit it, dropping everything I could – I was only hitting 80’s in rpm – but I passed Chris and it was clear to me with 50m to go I was not getting anything worse than second place. I wanted first. I needed first. I didn’t get it. Mike held out just enough and I just couldn’t get that last bit of top end acceleration due to the wear and tear of the Battenkill and my own two tactical errors. Mike had a killer sprint. He beat me in a sprint that I should have had and was very confident in well before the race started. He deserved that victory. Mike, well done…you got me!

Overall, I am extremely pleased with how the race went. I fought through cramps for the first time in my cycling career, traveled dirt sections that I didn't think were possibly navigable, and rode a beautiful race that is completely unparalleled in both uniqueness and epicness. My only regrets were the two lapses in execution that led to a second place finish: not being able to get a spot in the lead-out train and overgearing for the final sprint. My greatest pleasure was Meeting House Rd when I led the charge to churn a group of 40+ cyclists into a pack of 12.

I hadn't had dairy in about a week, but I couldn't pass on this delicious stuff (it was seriously REALLY good).

To say that it was just a race should be deemed illegal (if you've done it as you moved up the categories and are finally racing Cat 2 or PRO/1 - then you can treat it purely like a race...but you damn well better remember how amazing of an experience it was all the times you did it before!). To call it an event is reasonable. To call it purely epic and glorious is spot on. My greatest respects to everyone who dared put his or her wheel on the line, my regards to those whose races were shunted or faltered by flats and crashes, and my wishes to those who had injury to a speedy recovery! To the 20 or so winners of the individual races, amazing work - don't take your wins lightly. Only a couple times have I gone so deep in races. I have never had 7 other guys with me when going that deep. And I have never been so pleased with finishing second in my life - that is a massive tribute to the race and the racers. (If you know me well at all then you will understand how massive that is).

It looks like this will lead me into my Category 3 upgrade, then it's a quest to pick off some points before stage races - where I will seriously test the potential within myself to bring up the level once more. I couldn't possibly be looking forward to it one bit more.

While it was an amazing race, there is always work to be done and meters to be gained.

"Disappointment to a noble soul is what cold water is to burning metal; it strengthens, tempers, intensifies, but never destroys it."

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.