Brownstown Road Race

I picked teammate John up early in the morning for the fairly long carpool up to Brownstown, PA for my 3rd ever road race. I was registered for Category 5 racing, which is the Novice class. You need to get 10 road races under your belt before they let you upgrade to Category 4, so Brownstown, being cheap and relatively close, was an excellent opportunity to build my race resume.

In the morning I ate a pretty decent breakfast, a bagel with jam and fruited yogurt. Plenty of carbs, low in fat, and some good protein. I hadn't eaten this meal for breakfast before (usually it's cereal or oatmeal), but it seemed to settle in well and I didn't have any stomach issues throughout the day.

I missed the Browstown exit and we ended up getting there a little later than I would have liked; plenty of time to get registered and get my gear together, but not enough time for a decent warm-up (I was able to get in a very short warm up though). On the way in we drove by teammate Pat, who was warming up for his race.

The Scene at the Start

I rolled up to the starting line at the back of the field, mostly to say hello to Pat who was at the front of the field in his race, which was starting immediately behind ours. The lap counter read 4 laps, which was a little surprise to me, as I had thought we were only doing 3 laps. I was glad though, because the course was only 5 miles long. 3 laps wouldn't give me an opportunity to leverage my endurance (which isn't great compared to some, but is what I view as my biggest strength) and let the pack whittle away. The official blew the starting whistle, and we were off.

I knew that being in the back of the pack was a bad place to be, so I gradually worked my way forward during the course of the first lap. I used one of the several small short hills to attack a little bit, and found myself in the first few riders coming into the start / finish line. I tried to hide in the pack, but the pace was pretty relaxed and I found myself coasting along out front for no reason. After a while I was able to coast enough that someone else got bored and passed me, and then I grabbed their wheel.

I got out front so I could have an easier time in the corners. The dude with the helmet cam was actually really strong and pulled a lot.

The second and third laps played out like this: I pulled, realized I was doing myself no good by being out front, sat back in, got bored, pulled again. We were doing a pretty decent clip, and the race adrenaline had me a bit worried about my heart rate, which was jacked to levels well above where it normally sits during training. During the times when I was sitting in and letting the pack do all the work, I would sneak a couple sips from my water bottle filled with sports drink - it was very hot, so I knew that staying hydrated, electrolyted, and fully sugared up were key.

This must have been after the break that I didn't notice.

Somewhere along the line, probably towards the end of the second lap or in the middle of the third lap, I think there was a break. I had no idea, because I was way up front. I heard after the race that the pack sort of split in two, with half the pack dropping off the back and the other half forming a very large break. This explains why so many people were shouting things like "short pulls!" and "good rotation!" and "pacelines! Pacelines!". Of course, most of the riders didn't heed the instructions and encouragement from the whips; I think this was probably due to inexperience in the Cat 5 field (myself included, obviously).

At the beginning of the fourth and final lap, I ate the caffeinated energy gel that I had been storing in my jersey pocket for just-in-case. I knew that it takes a few minutes for gels to really kick in, and I wanted to be as strong as possible for the finishing sprint, which I knew was coming; I'd guessed by the second lap that it would all come down to the sprint. With that in mind, I tried to sit in for most of the fourth lap, and then when we got into the final few turns and hills, I gently maneuvered myself towards the front of the field.

This is what I look like when victory slips out of my grasp by a bike length. "Huh??"

By the time we reached the final rise before the finish line, I was ready to go. I attacked hard about halfway up the hill, after my momentum wore off. I was able to hammer out a cardiac-nebulizer nuclear bomb of a sprint, but the glycogen stores in my muscles gave way to the onslaught of lactate acid, and my effort started to droop in the final meters before the finish line. It was at that point that I saw in my field of tunnel vision something that I hadn't seen since I started the sprint: another wheel. My home stretch of empty road had been invaded my someone else who had started his sprint moments after I did, and hence was able to overtake me in the final split seconds of the race. He had another rider practically gobbling up his wheel, and the two of them edged by me to take first and second place.

All told, it was an excellent race, a good learning experience, and more good times with Team BBC. I stayed to watch John's race and then we headed home, eating some excellent burritos and watching the Tour de France prologue on the way back.

Garmin Data