Regalado Road Race, E4 (Sunday in NorCal) - You all missed one hell of a "road" race. It rained all night, but the cycling gods shined down on us during the day. It was cold (~45deg)but not as cold as Sat's start. The course was 3 laps around some very open (still wet) roads with endless fields on each side. About 3/4 through the loop there was a section of pure dirt and gravel roads for about 1-2miles. Large puddles of mud and water were throughout this section. I honestly thought the officials were joking when they mentioned that there was no center line on the "dirt section." During the first lap we turned a corner and there it was. I went through very slow and was really doubting myself and bike in this race. I let myself fall off the back by ~300m. I hammered, got back in the pack about a half a mile after this section and got my game face back on. A two man attack came from 2 of the 3 Roaring Mouse riders at the beginning of lap 2. We shut it down quickly. They launched the attack again a few miles down the road again leaving their third man with us. The 3 riders from Tri Valley Velo did nothing. They were the only riders with teammates. A Sho-Air rider and myself were each verbally pushing the Tri Valley riders to close the gap. Nothing. Against better judgement I started to close the gap near a downhill (where I shine). The Sho-Air rider, Alfredo, took the next pull. The pack followed but didn't help. Both of us sat back in and watched Tri Valley trio do nothing.

After the next very fast, very fun mud section, Alfredo from Sho-Air, Ben from Tri Valley and another rider from Pacific Velo launched. The rest of us were scrambling to recover and regroup. I was left in the remaining 6 or 7 man pack. The rest had fallen off the back. Skipping ahead... I was in the remaining pack of 5 with 4 out front (Ben from Tri Valley fell off and we passed him. His teammates didn't help him stay in the pack.) I had decided that no matter what happened the Tri Valley guys were not going to beat me. The group was working really well together and communicating. The remaining Roaring Mouse guy was strong but doing a good job at keeping the group from not really trying to catch the leaders.

With a mile and a half to go I was finishing my pull and heading to the back when the Roaring Mouse guy took off in a sprint with the other 3 guys. I knew immediately that they had pegged me as the guy they didn't want to race at the end. They wanted me dropped. It didn't work. I got back on, gave them a look like I could do it all day, and just sat on the back. The 1km line came and the group held the paceline. I sat in back and waited. It was uphill until the 400m line. 500m, the line held. 400m, the line started to zig on the short downhill. False flat for a bit. 250m, it was all uphill. The line broke but I stayed on a wheel. 200m, we had the both lanes for the sprint. I was the only one that took the other lane. I went full throttle at 200meters out. I passed UCSC, Tri Valley Velo, and Roaring Mouse (in that order). I saw Tri Valley pass Roaring Mouse. He wanted it. I wanted it more. I emptied the tanks and had the lead. 15meters to go, right hamstring cramped! Still in the lead. 10meters to go, hamstring #2 cramped. Did you know that you don't need hamstrings to function properly in order to add two bike lengths on the guy chasing you? Tri Valley Velo cracked and I was the hammer. 1st on the sprint. 5th place overall. And no rain.

Juan Lopez gutting it out in the Road Race. Photo by SpicyGal1

A report from the Cat 4 trenches by Alexander Klein:

When I started racing last fall, cycling felt like it demanded a higher level of dedication than anything I'd given to any sport. I had to train hard, eat well, keep my head about me during races. The hardest part was dragging myself up over obstacles--not hills, but training challenges. Man, I will never forget the pit in my stomach on those first few Rose Bowls as I dropped off the back, spinning furiously in the red, watching the peloton pull away from me, helpless. But I also remember bumping into Esteban on the first Rose Bowl when I could actually hang for the whole ride--what a satisfying feeling, and how great to be able to share it with a friend.

Fast forward through the off-season, when I upgraded to the 4s, hooked up with a coach (Rudy Napolitano--super mensch), and changed the way I train. SDSR was a mountain peak in the distance all winter--I really wanted to do well at this race. After tearing myself apart in January and February to preserve a decent number of hours each week to train and race (this was much harder than anything my legs ever felt), the big weekend finally came.

Stage 1: tt up gmr. Holy shit! There are 75 Cat 4s in southern CA who can do that climb faster than me! How is that possible?! Stage 2: it's f-ing *pouring* cats and frogs for the road race. Again, can't believe how fast these 4s go! The course has two short hills, and one 2 minute effort. I could always use the hills to gain a few positions in the pack, but for me the tough part was the windy, open straights around the airport. I've had this experience all season--when the winds blow and the pack surges, I get ejected off the back. Man, there's that old Rose Bowl feeling again--the pit in the stomach, the sweaty panic. I actually managed to bridge back onto the pack by the time we were climbing again, but when we hit the airport for the second time, I was OTR for good. (Off The Rear. Zing! Aw, I still love those guys. Actually great to see them out at SDSR in force.) After awhile, a grupetto of about 8 formed, and I finished with those dudes. We picked up Juan around lap 5, who hung on way longer than me with the pack, then fought hard by himself, in the crazy wind all day. Interestingly, while I seem to be good at hills/bad at flats compared to the peloton, my relative strengths compared to this grupetto were reversed--it was hard to hang with them on the hills, hard to get anybody to work with me on the flats. At one point, me and two other guys got a good gap around the airport, but we damn near got knocked over by a motorcycle who apparently didn't see us. Breaks were jammed, but thankfully everybody stayed rubber side down.

There was one memorable moment when the rain and hail and wind started dumping so hard I thought we would get blown off the road. I found myself shrieking with ecstasy--"Bring it on!" "Yaaaaaa!" This started other guys screaming out as well, and by the time we got shelter I think we were all weirdly revived by the catharsis. I have to say, at the end of the stage I have never seen so many smiling faces on my fellow racers--maybe not what you would expect if you watched from the sidelines, but *exactly* what you would expect if you were actually out there getting swamped and bombarded with hail and blown all over the road.

That was hands down the most fun I've had on a bike all year--soaking, exhausted, challenged, invigorated. Still, when I woke up Sunday, believe me when I tell you I *needed* no rain. Luckily, showed up for the crit in San Dimas to clear, cold skies. Juan helped me through a morning of absent-minded professor-ness--I forgot tights (not a great move when it's 35 degrees), had left my wet, full fingered gloves in Juan's car overnight (he let me borrow an extra pair--good looking out!), etc..

But then calamity really struck--literally four minutes before the Cat 4s were set to race, I discovered that my rear shifting was totally shot. I run over to the FSA tent, where I happen to find my man Rudy and a mechanic. Mechanic throws my bike on the stand--dude, your rear derailleur cable is snapped. Your race is done. Rudy takes one look and says, you can do this. He grabs me by the scruff of my neck and shuttles me over to the SRAM tent. SRAM has neutral bikes, it turns out (or bikes they give out to Rudy's friends? I still don't know.) By this time, the Cat 4s are on the line, hearing the ref tell them the rules. The SRAM guys grab a 52 Specialized Tarmac from the rack and start taking off the Shimano pedals. I'm hyperventilating because they haven't even changed the seat height yet, and clearly the race is going to start any second. Rudy keeps saying, "Don't worry, you've got time"--which for Rudy, apparently means a good 20 or 30 seconds. They finish swapping the pedals, the whistle blows, and the 4s are off. We haven't touched the seat height, but Rudy damn near grabs me, throws me onto the bike and shoves me off--"these things happen--stay relaxed, you can do this. This is bike racing!" he tells me, as he shoves me onto the back of the peloton.

At this point, I'm giddy with nerves and excitement--I feel like a pro indy driver who just went through the slickest pit stop ever. I make it onto the back of the pack, and the bike actually feels great. The crit is zippy--with 6 turns, I realize it's imperative for me to move up. But ... I just couldn't get a good spot! It was hard to find room to pass, and I think my heart was already beating in my throat from the pre-race drama. At the back of the pack, 6 turns means 6 sprints each lap. I held on for awhile, but finally got dropped, then pulled with 4 to go. My first time being pulled from a race, but they gave me a time, and you know what? I am proud to have finished this race, to have made the time cut on Saturday, to have made it through torrential downpours and an Alp D'Huez style time trial and a t minus 10 bike switch. The day ended with a beer and a burger with Juan and Rob and I could not have felt more satisfied.

I f-ing love cycling.

AK

The squad was treated to crisp, clean and sunny riding conditions for our inaugural Riders One Malibu Weekend Training Camp. The camp was hosted by seasoned and successful local pro Rudy Napolitano of RudyFit.com and he provided the squad invaluable insights on training, climbing, racing and provided plenty of individual on the bike attention combined with skills and drills galore. Special guests Masters World Champion and hour record holder Keith Ketter, National Masters Champ Malcom Hill of the Breakaway from Cancer Masters team and Wheelbuilder.com owner and Cat 1 mtb biker Rich Sawiris joined the team for our Saturday ride and added even more valuable mentoring opportunities. 

Saturday's ride consisted of a 77 mile, 7300+ feet mile tour of the Santa Monicas and included the historic climbs of Latigo, Decker and Yerba Buena and provided some solid overload training miles for everybody. Sunday included an 80 mile "recovery" ride along the crest and down the coast and included a full day of bike handling drills, mentoring and strategy. Looking forward to doing it again next year.

The classic Montrose Ride is our first installment in new series about different group training rides across So. Cal.

The Montrose ride starts at Descanso Gardens in La Canada and covers about 45 miles through various neighborhoods through the San Gabriel Valley and ends in Sierra Madre.

The tempo can be quick depending on the time of the year, but the size of the group and the traffic lights tends to keep things all together.

Montrose is a great training ride that has been going on since the 70's and there are plenty of sections that will allow you to optimize your workout if you choose to stick your nose in the wind or lead up some of the short and moderate rises on the route.

Details

• Day Every Saturday (all year)
• Start Time: 8:00am
• Main Start: Desconso Gardens in La Canada, CA (1/2 mile south of Verdugo on Desconso)
• Start # 2: 8:20 at Trader Joe's Market in S. Pasadena (corner of Mission and Grand)
• Start # 3: 9:15 at Arrow Hwy and Cerritos in Azusa (the "long" ride splits off here)
• Distance: 45-50 miles
• Duration: 2.5-3 hours