Yet another race report

Off The Back said:

OK, in the spirit of today's rbr race reports, I'll go next...

Sunday's 80-mile pro/1/2 road race at San Luis Rey (north county San
Diego); 50-60 starters, no sign of ST or Kurgan.

We begin near the end, Memento style... On what I thought was the last
11-mile lap, I began sitting on the winning break of Dave Clinger (Rock
Racing), Ben Brooks (Type 1), and Adam Livingston (5-Star). No
complaints from them; it was clear I wouldn't be contesting the sprint.
I'd slide off a bike length each time one of them came to the back.
Their rotation was beautifully smooth, and I was getting mesmerized by
it. None of them ever skipped a turn, despite obvious suffering. I
thought about offering fluid or gels--a token contribution at least--but
then decided against it. The gap to the chase group was a couple minutes
and we weren't going to get caught.

Unfortunately, I had to let go on the gradual stair steps in the last
mile. Just too wasted from the earlier efforts. Up ahead, Clinger won
the sprint, followed by Livingston and Brooks. I crossed the line next
and I went straight to the officials and pleaded my case. "PLEASE let me
be done!" Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the three-man break had
lapped me. In a road race. On an 11-mile course... "Can't I finish on
the same lap as the leaders?", I begged. They gave me a definitive
"NO!", so I soldiered on alone for another lap, ultimately finishing
30th, one spot out of the Lantern Rouge.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but
Sunday was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused
a crash, resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else,
resulting in me getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting
in pee in my shoe. I decided it was best to stop.

The pee break was so desperate because I had downed a couple liters of
cytomax and V-8 immediately before the start. I figured I needed to
rehydrate from the morning, when I did the 46-mile Masters Fatty event.

I didn't get lapped in that race. In fact, shockingly, I won the field
sprint for 2nd place. I say shockingly because I was probably the
littlest guy in the field and had been suffering nasty muscle cramps the
final lap. (Thus the later indulgence of V-8 and cytomax.)

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70
guys lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a
Masters race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes).
Apparently these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and
ripped (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

Mark
http://marcofanelli.blogspot.com

I had no idea that this newsgroup was actually about bicycle racing!

Good weekend for you!

Just so I can brag, I "won" the downhill from my coach and his other
student on Glendora Mountain Road down to East Fork Road. In fact, I
was so dominant that I stopped, got out my camera (the weight of the
camera and a quarter I found before the climb no doubt helping my
descending), and snapped five pictures before they pulled up to me.

In article <[email hidden]>,

Colin Campbell said:

Off The Back said:

OK, in the spirit of today's rbr race reports, I'll go next...

Sunday's 80-mile pro/1/2 road race at San Luis Rey (north county San
Diego); 50-60 starters, no sign of ST or Kurgan.

We begin near the end, Memento style... On what I thought was the last
11-mile lap, I began sitting on the winning break of Dave Clinger (Rock
Racing), Ben Brooks (Type 1), and Adam Livingston (5-Star). No
complaints from them; it was clear I wouldn't be contesting the sprint.
I'd slide off a bike length each time one of them came to the back.
Their rotation was beautifully smooth, and I was getting mesmerized by
it. None of them ever skipped a turn, despite obvious suffering. I
thought about offering fluid or gels--a token contribution at least--but
then decided against it. The gap to the chase group was a couple minutes
and we weren't going to get caught.

Unfortunately, I had to let go on the gradual stair steps in the last
mile. Just too wasted from the earlier efforts. Up ahead, Clinger won
the sprint, followed by Livingston and Brooks. I crossed the line next
and I went straight to the officials and pleaded my case. "PLEASE let me
be done!" Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the three-man break had
lapped me. In a road race. On an 11-mile course... "Can't I finish on
the same lap as the leaders?", I begged. They gave me a definitive
"NO!", so I soldiered on alone for another lap, ultimately finishing
30th, one spot out of the Lantern Rouge.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but
Sunday was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused
a crash, resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else,
resulting in me getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting
in pee in my shoe. I decided it was best to stop.

The pee break was so desperate because I had downed a couple liters of
cytomax and V-8 immediately before the start. I figured I needed to
rehydrate from the morning, when I did the 46-mile Masters Fatty event.

I didn't get lapped in that race. In fact, shockingly, I won the field
sprint for 2nd place. I say shockingly because I was probably the
littlest guy in the field and had been suffering nasty muscle cramps the
final lap. (Thus the later indulgence of V-8 and cytomax.)

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70
guys lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a
Masters race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes).
Apparently these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and
ripped (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

Mark
http://marcofanelli.blogspot.com

I had no idea that this newsgroup was actually about bicycle racing!

Good weekend for you!

Just so I can brag, I "won" the downhill from my coach and his other
student on Glendora Mountain Road down to East Fork Road. In fact, I
was so dominant that I stopped, got out my camera (the weight of the
camera and a quarter I found before the climb no doubt helping my
descending), and snapped five pictures before they pulled up to me.

Congrats Colin. I win downhill races too.

That means you're hugely fat.

BTW Mark, props for doing a Pro/1/2 race after a good showing in the
Master's race. You're an inspiration to fatties everywhere.

--
Ryan Cousineau [email hidden] http://www.wiredcola.com/
"In other newsgroups, they killfile trolls."
"In rec.bicycles.racing, we coach them."

Off The Back said:

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70 guys
lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a Masters
race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). Apparently
these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and ripped (and on
beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

I guess these guys didn't get the memo because they don't waste their
time on Usenet instead of riding. That may also explain their sub-par
BMI.

Good show with 2 long races!

Joseph

Ryan Cousineau said:

In article <[email hidden]>,

Colin Campbell said:

Off The Back said:

OK, in the spirit of today's rbr race reports, I'll go next...

Sunday's 80-mile pro/1/2 road race at San Luis Rey (north county San
Diego); 50-60 starters, no sign of ST or Kurgan.

We begin near the end, Memento style... On what I thought was the last
11-mile lap, I began sitting on the winning break of Dave Clinger (Rock
Racing), Ben Brooks (Type 1), and Adam Livingston (5-Star). No
complaints from them; it was clear I wouldn't be contesting the sprint.
I'd slide off a bike length each time one of them came to the back.
Their rotation was beautifully smooth, and I was getting mesmerized by
it. None of them ever skipped a turn, despite obvious suffering. I
thought about offering fluid or gels--a token contribution at least--but
then decided against it. The gap to the chase group was a couple minutes
and we weren't going to get caught.

Unfortunately, I had to let go on the gradual stair steps in the last
mile. Just too wasted from the earlier efforts. Up ahead, Clinger won
the sprint, followed by Livingston and Brooks. I crossed the line next
and I went straight to the officials and pleaded my case. "PLEASE let me
be done!" Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that the three-man break had
lapped me. In a road race. On an 11-mile course... "Can't I finish on
the same lap as the leaders?", I begged. They gave me a definitive
"NO!", so I soldiered on alone for another lap, ultimately finishing
30th, one spot out of the Lantern Rouge.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but
Sunday was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused
a crash, resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else,
resulting in me getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting
in pee in my shoe. I decided it was best to stop.

The pee break was so desperate because I had downed a couple liters of
cytomax and V-8 immediately before the start. I figured I needed to
rehydrate from the morning, when I did the 46-mile Masters Fatty event.

I didn't get lapped in that race. In fact, shockingly, I won the field
sprint for 2nd place. I say shockingly because I was probably the
littlest guy in the field and had been suffering nasty muscle cramps the
final lap. (Thus the later indulgence of V-8 and cytomax.)

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70
guys lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a
Masters race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes).
Apparently these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and
ripped (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

Mark
http://marcofanelli.blogspot.com

I had no idea that this newsgroup was actually about bicycle racing!

Good weekend for you!

Just so I can brag, I "won" the downhill from my coach and his other
student on Glendora Mountain Road down to East Fork Road. In fact, I
was so dominant that I stopped, got out my camera (the weight of the
camera and a quarter I found before the climb no doubt helping my
descending), and snapped five pictures before they pulled up to me.

Congrats Colin. I win downhill races too.

That means you're hugely fat.

BTW Mark, props for doing a Pro/1/2 race after a good showing in the
Master's race. You're an inspiration to fatties everywhere.

Nah, it means I have a lot of time to plan my downhill attack while I'm
climbing.

In article <[email hidden]>,

Off The Back said:

OK, in the spirit of today's rbr race reports, I'll go next...

Sunday's 80-mile pro/1/2 road race at San Luis Rey (north county San Diego);
50-60 starters, no sign of ST or Kurgan.

We begin near the end, Memento style... On what I thought was the last
11-mile lap, I began sitting on the winning break of Dave Clinger (Rock
Racing), Ben Brooks (Type 1), and Adam Livingston (5-Star). No complaints
from them; it was clear I wouldn't be contesting the sprint. I'd slide off a
bike length each time one of them came to the back. Their rotation was
beautifully smooth, and I was getting mesmerized by it. None of them ever
skipped a turn, despite obvious suffering. I thought about offering fluid or
gels--a token contribution at least--but then decided against it. The gap to
the chase group was a couple minutes and we weren't going to get caught.

Unfortunately, I had to let go on the gradual stair steps in the last mile.
Just too wasted from the earlier efforts. Up ahead, Clinger won the sprint,
followed by Livingston and Brooks. I crossed the line next and I went
straight to the officials and pleaded my case. "PLEASE let me be done!" Oh
yeah, I forgot to mention that the three-man break had lapped me. In a road
race. On an 11-mile course... "Can't I finish on the same lap as the
leaders?", I begged. They gave me a definitive "NO!", so I soldiered on
alone for another lap, ultimately finishing 30th, one spot out of the
Lantern Rouge.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but Sunday
was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused a crash,
resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else, resulting in me
getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting in pee in my shoe.
I decided it was best to stop.

The pee break was so desperate because I had downed a couple liters of
cytomax and V-8 immediately before the start. I figured I needed to
rehydrate from the morning, when I did the 46-mile Masters Fatty event.

I didn't get lapped in that race. In fact, shockingly, I won the field
sprint for 2nd place. I say shockingly because I was probably the littlest
guy in the field and had been suffering nasty muscle cramps the final lap.
(Thus the later indulgence of V-8 and cytomax.)

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70 guys
lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a Masters
race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). Apparently
these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and ripped (and on
beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

Holy [censored], you did two races (126 miles worth) in one day - the pee break is
forgiven. I'm impressed.

--
tanx,
Howard

Whatever happened to
Leon Trotsky?
He got an icepick
That made his ears burn.

remove YOUR SHOES to reply, ok?

"Howard Kveck" <[email hidden]> wrote in message
news:[email hidden]...

Quoted message said:

In article <[email hidden]>,

Off The Back said:

OK, in the spirit of today's rbr race reports, I'll go next...

Sunday's 80-mile pro/1/2 road race at San Luis Rey (north county San
Diego);
50-60 starters, no sign of ST or Kurgan.

We begin near the end, Memento style... On what I thought was the last
11-mile lap, I began sitting on the winning break of Dave Clinger (Rock
Racing), Ben Brooks (Type 1), and Adam Livingston (5-Star). No complaints
from them; it was clear I wouldn't be contesting the sprint. I'd slide
off a
bike length each time one of them came to the back. Their rotation was
beautifully smooth, and I was getting mesmerized by it. None of them ever
skipped a turn, despite obvious suffering. I thought about offering fluid
or
gels--a token contribution at least--but then decided against it. The gap
to
the chase group was a couple minutes and we weren't going to get caught.

Unfortunately, I had to let go on the gradual stair steps in the last
mile.
Just too wasted from the earlier efforts. Up ahead, Clinger won the
sprint,
followed by Livingston and Brooks. I crossed the line next and I went
straight to the officials and pleaded my case. "PLEASE let me be done!"
Oh
yeah, I forgot to mention that the three-man break had lapped me. In a
road
race. On an 11-mile course... "Can't I finish on the same lap as the
leaders?", I begged. They gave me a definitive "NO!", so I soldiered on
alone for another lap, ultimately finishing 30th, one spot out of the
Lantern Rouge.

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but Sunday
was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused a crash,
resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else, resulting in
me
getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting in pee in my
shoe.
I decided it was best to stop.

The pee break was so desperate because I had downed a couple liters of
cytomax and V-8 immediately before the start. I figured I needed to
rehydrate from the morning, when I did the 46-mile Masters Fatty event.

I didn't get lapped in that race. In fact, shockingly, I won the field
sprint for 2nd place. I say shockingly because I was probably the
littlest
guy in the field and had been suffering nasty muscle cramps the final
lap.
(Thus the later indulgence of V-8 and cytomax.)

But even more shocking to me was the physical appearances of the 60-70
guys
lined up at the start. I had been assured by rbr that everyone in a
Masters
race would be grossly obese (and on beautiful $10,000 bikes). Apparently
these guys didn't get the memo because most were lean and ripped (and on
beautiful $10,000 bikes). I was disgusted and disappointed.

Holy [censored], you did two races (126 miles worth) in one day - the pee
break is
forgiven. I'm impressed.

Especially when you realize that both races would be harder than a single
126 mile race. Helluva an effort!

Off The Back said:

Now, I wouldn't have gotten lapped if not for a desperately-needed
porta-potty stop about half-way through the race. Even under the best
conditions, pee'ing off the bike is tough for somebody my age, but Sunday
was really windy and attempting it would have either: (A) caused a crash,
resulting in me getting beat up; (B) sprayed somebody else, resulting in me
getting beat up; or (C) dribbled into my shoe, resulting in pee in my shoe..
I decided it was best to stop.

I once found out the hard way that peeing on your chain is a bad
idea. It washed all the lubricant off and I had a squeaky chain the
rest of the race. What was worse was that the winning break went away
while I was busy peeing.

Bret