Coaching Session

So like I mentioned, I joined the Century Road Club Association. Last night I took advantage of one of the free coaching sessions.

You know, you reach a certain point after having ridden for a few years and you think to yourself, “How much is there about riding or racing a bike that I don’t know?” In my case, I’ve been on the bike two years this coming July 4th, so I would have to imagine there’s a shitload I don’t know about racing a bike. Sure, I’ve got some of the essentials in terms of sitting in the draft, conserving your energy, picking the right gear to start a sprint, cadence, intervals, etc., but by no means do I probably know as much as I should.

Hence, the coaching session and this particular session just so happened to be about sprinting and optimal leg speed.

So I show up. Early. I’m always early. I’m a bit obsessive-compulsive when it comes to being late. I despise being late. I like being on time, which means I’m always a few minutes early to ensure I’m not late. That’s just how that works. If I tell someone I’m going to be somewhere by 1:30, I’m going to be there by 1:30. And if for some reason I can’t make it by 1:30, whoever’s waiting for me at 1:30 is going to know before 1:30 that I’m unable to make it by 1:30. Again, that’s just how that works.

So again, I show up. Three other people show up and the coach shows up. The coach, she’s won races, championships, the whole nine yards. Apparently, she’s been doing this long enough and has won enough stuff to be in a situation to coach newbies like me. She explains we’re going to work on sprinting and, since there’s four of us, we’ll go two-at-a-time, side-by-side. “And make sure you’re in the small chain ring and in your sixteen-tooth cog.”

In other words, she wanted us to spin our brains out.

She sets herself up at the base of a small rise and says, “When you go by and I blow the whistle, get your hands in the drops, get your butt out of the saddle, and sprint for the intersection at the top of the hill.”

I’m paired up with the one girl in the group and she’s never ridden in a group, never sprinted. She’s done a few triathlons, so like the big man I am, I beat the girl with no sprinting experience, although sprinting in such a small girl is something of a tall order. Doesn’t exactly feel natural.

For the next set, we get to move up to the big chain ring and the nineteen-tooth cog. And now we’re doing lead-outs. The first guy leads out the following three. After we pass the light post at the bottom of the rise, it’s a free-for-all.

First time around, the guy ahead of me beats me, yet oddly enough, I notice him downshifting from a cog much smaller than nineteen, so clearly, even though it’s just a training session, he has to win the sprint.

Kind of defeats the purpose of working on leg speed, doesn’t it?

But really, what’s the big deal?

And for the last sprint, the coach has us go all the way back up the road and tells us, “Do whatever you want, but think about what your plan of attack is.”

So we ride up the road and, like the true road cyclists we are, we let the triathlete lead the way as the rest of us sit in her draft. By the time we reach the base of the rise, my cadence is already up to 130, so do I feel like I can just hop out of the saddle and accelerate any faster considering how fast my feet are turning?

Regardless, I gave it a shot, but as soon as one of the guys caught my creeping up on him, he moved to the right and, like a complete douche bag, cut me off. Remember, this wasn’t a race. It was a training session.

At the top of the rise, I pulled up next to him. “You almost hit me back there, amigo.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m sure you’re real sorry.”

This coming Saturday is the next CRCA race. Let’s see how that goes.