"Pushing the Peleton" or "My Hour as the Cricket"

Paolo Bettini is a professional bicycle racer. He will not be racing in le Tour de France this year, but he has raced the Tour in the past. He was one of the first Olympic gold medalists in the 2004 Athens games, winning the cycling road race. Bettini is nicknamed "the Cricket" and he loves to make breakaways while racing. He is sometimes successful, as in the 2004 Olympics, and other times he uses up his energy too early and is caught by the rest of the racers right before the finishing line. I suppose without realizing what I was doing, I raced like an unsuccessful Bettini on Tuesday night.

The starting line

Tuesday, June 28th, 2005.

This was the first Tuesday night race that I was preparing to do while in "vacation mode". I was able to eat a large, relaxing breakfast and an even larger, carb-heavy lunch of rice and scrambled eggs. I also took a monstrous nap on the couch, and when I woke up I felt good.

Kristina and I drove out to Pacific Raceways and although there were some spinkles of rain, when we arrived at the track everything was dry. I paid, dressed, and began warming up. On the warm-up I felt sluggish and my legs did not like pushing my hardest gears, but I knew that I had lots of energy hidden somewhere and that once the race started, I would be able to harness it. At the starting line there was the usual instructions, and then we were off! The race would last for 1 hour.

Lap #1

The first lap of the race felt slow. Of course, even if it feels slow we are still going quite fast. But it did not feel like people were pushing the pace at all.

Each lap involves a 3/4th mile straightaway, followed by a gentle right turn that leads into a snaking, half-mile downhill. There is no flat at the bottom of the hill, but instead the road curves back on itself like a switchback and immediately turns uphill. The uphill section is only a quarter mile long, but it is fairly steep--steep enough for me to shift into my middle ring in the front and use the easiest three gears in the back. The most strenuous part of the course, however, is the long corner that puts us back on the straightaway, because the peleton (group of riders) always accelerates and makes everyone work.

As we began the downhill section of the course on the second lap, the whirring sound of gears and chains that normally fills my ears was interrupted by yells of "Whoa! Slow down! Heads up!" There had been a crash in one of the earlier races, and a rider was down on the inside of one of the corners. Everyone sat up on their bikes and braked. Seeing a fallen rider caused the peleton to forget how invincible it thinks it is, and to think about things that could go wrong. As a result, it still felt as if we were just out for a Sunday morning ride and not in an actual race. As we went down the hill for the third time, we slowed as now there was a pickup truck carting the injured rider off the course.

By the third time up the hill, I had figured out which gear was the best and how fast people were climbing. Perhaps all the riders who started with us were still in the group, for even with the long climb the peleton was not moving all too rapidly.

So I did something about it. At the straightaway I worked my way to the front of the group. I asked a naive question about the location of the finishing line, and then I shifted into a bigger gear, stood up on my pedals, and launched an attack! I counted forty pedal strokes before I looked back. When I did, there was a Rider in Red immediately on my tail, but nobody else was anywhere close. Halfway through the first corner I allowed the Red Rider to take a turn in front, and I followed him down the hill. Now we were flying! We reached the bottom of the hill for the fourth time and still the group was well behind us. I had thought for sure that they would catch us at the bottom, but they didn't. Up the hill we went, and we began to get caught--but not by our race! One of the other races on the course was passing us. (In the Tuesday night races there are usually 3 races going on simultaneously--when one race passes another the slower group usually gives them time to get by, and then resumes racing)

At the top of the hill my legs were burning and I looked at my clock. Only 28 minutes had passed. I did not believe that I had the strength to ride by myself (or with the Red Rider) so I sat up and waited for my race to catch up with me. They did, and they did so at the exact spot where I had abandoned them the previous lap.

I had done something to the peleton, and now it was angry! The pace was about 4-5 miles per hour faster than it had been for the first three laps. We were moving. And shrinking. There were probably five fewer riders in the group than there had been at the start. The increase in speed had been too much for some of them.

It almost was for me, too! At the top of the hill on the 5th lap you can see that I am barely hanging on to the now-energized group.

The top of the hill--lap #5






Don't look at the camera, silly! You're in a race!


For me, the corner at the top is the hardest part of each lap. I can keep pace up the hill, but I forget to hook on to the wheel in front of me at the summit and tend to have to work really hard to catch up for the straightaway.

Another picture of lap #5

Starting the hill--lap #6

Laps 5-7 were a struggle for me. I had used up a lot of energy in what turned out to do nothing but increase the speed of the peleton. So I had used up much of my energy only to now have to work harder. I managed to hang on, but as you can see I was usually the last guy in the pack. What you cannot see in the pictures, though, is the number of guys who are no longer in the group at all. Many of them have dropped out of the race completely, which might have been my fault, since I did kick-start the group.

Barely hanging on. Lap #8?

Another shot of lap #8?

With two laps to go I figured I would have time to recover enough to be part of the final charge up the hill. How wrong I was. I had worked so hard to just hang with the peleton that now I had absolutely nothing left. It was all I could do to finish in the group at the top of the hill. The odd thing was that I felt good--I just did not have the spark that I needed to explode up the hill with the rest of the "big boys". Oh well. I had a lot of fun and I will probably try some more crazy tactics the next time I race. Who knows? It could pay off someday!

Finally, the finish!

Much thanks to Kristina for taking such great photos!