Going into a race my degree of confidence can often be determined by the category of race which I find myself in. In a category 3/4 race, I am confident that I can initiate moves and still be a factor in the sprint. In a pro/1/2/3 race, I am confident that I will probably finish and not leak urine all over myself in the process. In a master’s race, I am confident that all of our best years are behind us and we will soon face the cold embrace of eternal sleep. But in the rare circumstance of a straight category 3 race, as a guy who intends on being buried as a three, I know quite a few things.

Firstly, lots of threes are just fours with a new license. This means they still expect to be towed to the line with a minimum of effort. They will jump to breaks and not pull through, as they are scared of hitting the wind and getting popped. This is more from a lack of awareness about their still blossoming abilities than due to anything else. They will also chase, as they think this is sound racing strategy—it is not. Chasing means you have done something terribly wrong. Either you haven’t put anyone in the break, or you are not strong enough to participate in the breakaway—situations which are both not optimal.

Secondly, some threes are just category ones who are swiftly passing through. These guys are really easy to spot. They get away on the first lap and gain such preposterous gaps that everyone left in the race forgets that they are off the front. They are mostly unstoppable and the entire category breathes a sigh of relief when these racers upgrade and stop making everyone look like fools.

Thirdly, long time cat threes are terrifically wily. Whether they be sprinters or rouleurs, these guys have seen it all; and the good ones use their wisdom to their advantage. They know which breaks will work. They know who to follow. They know when to work. They are like lycra-festooned guidance counselors. On Sunday, I tried to play the part of such a guidance counselor.

On BH we have a motivated and talented group of category three racers. We are lucky to have a wide array of options when it comes to effecting the outcome of a race. Going into Sunday’s Mangoseed category 3 race at Prospect Park, we decided on a three-pronged attack. We would make the race as uncomfortable as possible for those who wished to sit in and sprint. We would try to spring Phil early, and if that was unsuccessful, we would unleash the Clerico upon the race. Our third prong was a field sprint, which we also felt confident about, so all things considered, we were feeling quite hopeful.

Since there was bigger than normal prize money at stake, I figured that most guys would be riding conservatively, as usually big stakes=fear of mistakes. Our plan was to attack the race after the first prime, as the greedy riders would be tired from the sprint effort, and that would make getting away that much easier. The race started, and we began pushing the pace as soon as we hit the hill. In a race with a big field, it’s very important to wear out the field if you hope to breakaway. Every effort we made was to exhaust those who would hang onto a move by Phil or Andrew. We jumped away from the pack no less than 10 times before the prime sprint came, and after the money sprint, Andrew took off.

That was it as far as the rest of the race went. We tried a few times to get Phil across to Andrew, but to no avail. We were eventually left to play one on one defense behind in the pack, covering any attacks that launched from the pack. Andrew worked hard in the break and finished a fine second, making me a happy guidance counselor.