It’s time to get back to the basics. I’ve spent far too long this past month worrying about things that had nothing to do with what I do best*, nor what I should be worrying about: blogging.
I have a fun story to write about from this afternoon. It’s possible I’ll post it this evening, but I make no guarantees. Suffice to say, it involves road bikes, thick mud, blood and bravado. As I look forward to returning to the world of vigorous blogging, so should you look forward to the upcoming adventurous post.
However, in the interim, here is a new “race report” that I threw together this evening as a requirement for my team. It’s wordy, likely peppered with grammatical errors and typos, and somewhat redundant for those of you who read this blog frequently. Whatever. It’s a post. Like many a second place finish, I’ll take what I can get.
See you all soon (on the internet)!
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Subject: Rand’s 2011 P/1/2 Race Reports. Yeah, it’s quite plural.
Alto Velo,
It is with great embarrassment that I finally get around to posting to this list. You see, I’m about thirty-five races behind in my race-reporting duties; in order to get me to write, my team manager Billy Crane has become quite persuasive. He’s been withholding reimbursement money.
Why have I been slacking? Well, in two words: the internet and girls. Typically not at the same time, but who’s checking?
Now, I simply cannot write all the race reports from this year, but that’s a good thing because it means I have a lot of top placings to write about. In fact, I’ve finished inside the top-five seventeen times thus far, and still five races remain in the 2011 road season.
Now, over the course of this season, I’ve become known amongst my P/1/2 competitors as “Second Place,” which is a pretty obvious nickname for people like Cadel and I. I’ve come in second six times this season, which means I’m clearly doing something wrong.
Thus, I’ve decided to take a retrospective look at each of my six second places, give a brief description of the event, and then delineate what I did wrong. I’m hoping that this will do two things: 1. help you and I race better in the future, and 2. exorcise my second place demons for eternity.
So here we go.
2nd Place #1: Cal Aggie Crit (January 29, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Misunderestimation
I showed up to the Cal Aggie Crit — held on the Land Park Crit course — with a fierce desire to de-testicl-ify my competitors. My intention was to do so by attacking with reckless abandon, tactically emasculating whatever breakaway partners I might have, and winning. It’s a simple formula. I did a really good job at the first part, and found myself off the front with Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava), Evan Huffman (Cal Giant) and Adam Switters (Harley Davidson) in short order. Now, look at that list of riders. Do you see a sprinter there? I sure as hell don’t. I mean, to my knowledge, Huffman’s fastest sprint ever was the time he ran away from a group of girls at a high school dance. Hillier races about as aggressively as his baby-faced countenance implies, and is far better-suited to triathlons. Finally, Switters is skinnier than a cocaine-era Lohan forearm and the last time I saw him win a sprint, it was a Junior 15-16 race. I was pretty confident. Our four-man breakaway stayed away to the finish on this slippery, misty, mid-winter race. Heading through the final corner, I lined myself up in third wheel behind Huffman and Hilier. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I happily gave Switters my wheel, assuming he was no threat, and started my kick to the line already preparing my victory salute. That’s when Switters came up alongside me, glanced at me, then clicked up a gear with 50m to go and showed me the victory salute HE’D been preparing for the whole last lap. Never, ever, EVER assume things you don’t know about your competitors. You will lose just like me.
2nd Place #2: The Easter Classic Criterium (April 24, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Desperation
This race is absurd, and I love it for its absurdity. It’s held on part of the Early Bird Criterium course and consists of two hairpins and a metric shit-ton of wind. It’s like the Snelling RR for fat, slow, undertrained crit-donkeys like me. As you can imagine from a race in which you’re either cornering around a hairpin turn or dodging the square-edged curb in the gutter the entire time, this race blew apart pretty quickly. Heading into the final few laps, the lead group was pretty intense: our favorite should-be triathlete Keith Hillier (Marc Pro – Strava), Eric Wohlberg (Form Fitness p/b Hella Ex-Pro Cyclists from Canada), Steve Reaney (Cal Giant), Rainer Schaefer (Mike’s Bikes), Kirk Carlsen (Garmin – Chipotle) and me. Reaney seemed to enjoy hitting the corners as hard as he could — I think he fancies himself the second coming of Dave McCook – which frequently formed gaps in this “breakaway.” With five laps remaining, and Reaney smugly enjoying one of the aforementioned “handling skills gaps,” I attacked the other riders in the gutter and made it across to Cal Giant’s aging but still fast-as-balls captain. I proceeded to take the hardest pulls I could possibly take, fearful that former Canadian National Champion TTist Wohlberg and former Redlands Young Rider winner Carlsen would be hot on our heels. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I was so desperate to ensure that we stayed away from the other big-name riders behind, I forgot that I still had to beat one of the fastest riders this district has seen in years. Heading to the line, I was straight-up screwed in any sense of the word you can imagine. In spite of my attempts to sneak around Steve in the four inches of gutter he allowed me downwind, I was beaten soundly. Would I have won had I not been so desperate and foolish with my pulls? Probably not; however, I never gave myself that chance. Idiot.
2nd Place #3: Watsonville Criterium (July 16, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Timing
The technical Watsonville Criterium is my Pebble Beach; my Wimbledon; my Daytona. I haven’t finished outside the top three at the Watsonville Crit in half a decade. It’s everything I have ever wanted in a criterium course, and I imagine the feelings I have toward this race are akin to those one feels just before he proposes. Having won the event the year before — out of a three man break consisting of Steve Reaney (Cal Giant) and his teammate Jared Barrilleaux — I was under a bit of pressure to perform. Three laps into the event, I was off the front with my teammate John Wilk, James Mattis and Steve Reaney (both Cal Giant). Shortly thereafter, Reaney and I had dispatched of our respective teammates, and the true grudge match had begun: Steve Reaney vs. Rand Miller, a pay-per-view special (for the roughly 16 spectators on course). Steve had me against the ropes almost instantly, as he had decided to attack up the small hill on the course once per lap, every lap. I was doing everything I could to hang on, but I was about to crack, and Steve knew it. I didn’t crack, I recovered, and subsequently Steve and I lapped the field twice. On the second of those lappings, I became aware that Steve was vulnerable. When I attacked, it took Reaney a moment to respond, and he was opening gaps on the two hairpin corners on course. I had him up against the ropes a bit, now, and I didn’t take full advantage. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. Instead, I hesitated. We lapped the field again together, bestowing Reaney a few teammates with whom he could work. With one lap to go, I attacked Reaney over the hill (and far away), maintained a gap through the most technical parts of the course, and was caught with one straightaway to go. My arch nemesis beat me soundly in the ensuing drag race to the line.
2nd Place #4: Albany Criterium (July 17, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: See Above
See Above. This race was almost an exact replica of the previous day. Seriously. Including the lapping-of-the-field bit and the last lap attack.
2nd Place #5: CCCX Circuit Race #infinity (July 30, 2011)
One Word for the F*&K-up: Commitment
Actually, it’s a lack of commitment. Among those who know me, it’s no secret that I am not a very good athlete. I don’t ride more than about three hours during the week, I eat food that even obese people would turn away, and I drink far more beer in one month than the entire Sierra Nevada Pro Cycling Team drank in the three or four seasons they existed. This lifestyle is all fun and games until I actually realize that I’m losing bike races because of it. THAT IS MY MISTAKE. On the day of the CCCX Circuit Race in question, this lack of commitment to the sport we all love became brutally apparent on the rugged roads of Fort Ord. Let me back up. I started the day with a HCTT up Mt. Diablo at 8am, and I was supremely proud of my effort. I climbed faster than I have in years and placed 5th, just behind true climbers like Cal Giant’s Evan Huffman and Nate Wilson, Chris Phipps (Thirsty Bear) and (of course) Nate English (Yahoo?). I then drove down to Monterey and proceeded to launch myself hubris-long off the front on the very first lap of the nine-lap, 90-minute, hilly, windy event. With me was Metromint’s Ethan Atkins, a notable and venerable rider (assuming he doesn’t crash himself out like he did at University RR, wink wink). I drilled it. I was riding so hard, I looked behind me in one of the many headwind sections of the course to see Atkins literally foaming at the mouth. “Dude, Rand, don’t drop me. You’re gonna win this. Just don’t drop me!” he feebly exclaimed through hyperventilations. I had won the race. All I had to do was not blow it.
I blew it.
With two laps to go, my legs gave out entirely. “Implosion” doesn’t even come close to describing the event. By one lap to go, my vision began to blur, my speech began to slur, and it was all I could do to exclaim feebly, “Dude, Ethan, don’t drop me. You’re gonna win this. Just don’t drop me!” Ah, how the tables had turned. I nearly fell off my bike trying to hold Ethan’s merciful wheel as he nursed me to the finish line just ahead of the chasing pack. His victory salute looked glorious, or at least I assume it did. I don’t remember crossing the finish line. If I trained like a dedicated athlete, I think I would have won. If I passed on just a few beers here and there, I think I would have won. If I wasn’t so hopelessly addicted to Reese’s Peanut Butter cups, I might have won. Instead, I was beaten by a rider who is committed to the sport — even though he’s an overworked PhD student like me — and who deserved that win because of it.
2nd Place #6: Strawberry Crown Criterium (August 6, 2011)
One Word for the F*&k-up: Reaney
This technical downtown race, also held in Watsonville, was one of the higher-profile races on the NCNCA calendar. The field was replete with some of the more talented teams and racers in the nation, Dave Towle was announcing, and the title sponsor of the event was none other than the California Giant Strawberry Farms. Cal Giant was (understandably) fielding their A Team at this event, which meant that my arch nemesis Steve Reaney was in the hunt for the win. Midway through the race, Steve and I escaped from the field together — it was Watsonville Crit deja vu. However, our move was brought back by the tireless legs of Dan Ramsay (Full Circle), who was working for his highlight sprinter Ricardo Escuela. Neither of us was content with our efforts thus far, so with seven laps remaining Reaney and I struck out yet again; this time, our move stuck to the finish. Never before this season have my legs felt so effortlessly amazing. Never before has my head felt so clear. I knew exactly what I had to do, and better yet, I knew I had the legs to beat Reaney in the finale. Reaney was not cornering quite as quickly as I was through the most technical part of the course, and I knew I could use that to my advantage. Heading into this technical chicane on the final lap, Reaney looked behind him to judge our gap over the hard-charging field; I timed my attack to perfection. Just as he turned his head back, I sprinted as hard as I could toward the oncoming right-left-left corner combination. I earned a sliver of a gap for my efforts and cornering bravado, but I thought it might be enough for the upset victory. Alas, even with a several bike-length advantage coming out of the final corner at about 200m, Reaney powered by me and took the win. Again. What was my mistake? Being a Category 1 cyclist in the NCNCA during the Steve Reaney era. THAT WAS MY MISTAKE. I did everything right, and I’m still not good enough to win. I can take solace in knowing that I was close, I suppose, but that’s little consolation.
And so, my season is near a close, and my race resume is overwhelmed by underwhelming performances. In all likelihood, I’ll get yet another second place before the season is out, and I’ll upload a brief addendum to this tome accordingly.
Until then, I raise a bottle of IPA to you, Alto Velo and all our sponsors: Thank you for reading, thank you for supporting me (and my P/1/2 compatriots), and please heckle me in the upcoming races.
Rand
*That’s a sad commentary.
