CRCA Points Race

The binding agreement I have established with the voices in my head stipulate that I type something about every race I enter. I raced the CRCA points race on Saturday, it was awful (as all points races are), and I did not win—that is all I have to say about that event.

FBF Opening Night

Tuesday was the first FBF Tuesday night race of the season, and that meant that I needed to decide which field I would be joining for the season. This is a momentous decision to absolutely no one, and I was persuaded by team peer pressure to steal a bottle of peach schnapps from my parent’s liquor cabinet and to take part in the 1/2/3 race instead of the 3/4ths race. What can I say? I love sharing schnapps. My life coach and FBF traveling companion Mihael disagreed with my decision to take part in the more competitive field, but he’s lazy sprinter, so what does he know anyway.

The weather for the first FBF race was warm, with mildly threatening clouds, but with an unsubstantial amount of wind. This meant there would be a pretty good chance of a field sprint, but that didn’t mean we would roll around in a schnapps-like haze until our eleven laps were through—this is FBF—we would attack and counter attack one another as if we were in the throes of a schnapps-induced fury. (Schnapps can be hit or miss in that way—it’s like German tequila.)

As we nailed about before the race, I couldn’t help but notice that there were quite a few racers in attendance that were profoundly faster than I am, so I hatched a personal plan of treachery and deceit to counteract any strength or youth-based advantages my opposition may possess. Joining me in the 1/2/3 field were teammates Chris, Erik and Kevin, so we had a good group of experienced racers to share the schnapps, so to speak.

We toed the line, and the race began. We were roused to immediate action by a bearded Eugene (surprisingly, not a euphemism). The race then descended into a series of attacks, counters, covers and moments of questioning every decision you’ve made in your life up to this point. Our team made a point of being in most moves, with each of us taking turns starting or joining the efforts at the front. This pattern repeated itself for ten of our eleven laps, and as we hit the bell lap, the group was together.

An aside that isn’t an ad for Strava, because they don’t pay me jack

So Strava has this new thing called Flybys, which can essentially give you a replay of the activities of anyone who uploaded their race data to Strava. I’ll try posting the link for Tuesday’s race here, but I have not idea whether the link will show the race properly because I don’t run the internet. But I can use the Flyby information to show how race winner Ross B did his race-winner-ing on Tuesday. As we came to the finish line on the bell lap, I was getting ready to position Kevin for what I thought would be a field sprint. Ross jumped just before turn one and got a gap on the field. A few riders followed and also had a gap. I went to the front near turn two and started pulling, bringing back all the riders that weren’t Ross. By turn three, I was nearly expired, so I did one last jump, and bade the race farewell. Ross, as the replay shows, held on to a 200 meter or so advantage for the rest of the race and for the win—a very impressive performance. Kevin cracked the top ten and got some points. I rolled back to the finish in dead last position, because finishing with the pack after doing a lead out means you’re doing it wrong.