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The Hell of the South training race was yesterday in Berlin (pronounced BURlin, not BurLIN), TN. The course took us over chipseal roads, a short dirt section, and over rolling terrain for 26 miles. I raced the “C” race with 7  Category 5 teammates, while 6 of our Category 4 teammates rode the 50 mile “B”‘ race.

This was my first road race, so when I lined up for the start I looked down at my computer and saw that my heart rate was hovering around 119. I was excited and nervous, to say the least. I was on the front line and had Harpeth jerseys all around me, which was very cool. One guy from another team asked if we planned on controlling the pace for the full lap since we had 8 guys. In retrospect we probably should have.

The race started and hit a fast but manageable pace in the high 20s. I had my head on a swivel and was watching for our guys as well as watching all of the riders around me for erratic moves. Other than some unnecessary braking the peloton was made up of fairly smooth riders. Once I saw Brian and Chris in front of me by a few bikes, I started playing around with moving within the group. Initially I thought the easiest place to gain position would be on the right side, but apparently so did everyone else. I saw one guy smoothly ride up the left side on the edge of the pavement, so I tried that and got near enough to Brian and Chris (I think Chuck and Shawn were close by at this point too) to mention that we should start moving up.

I sat on or near Brian’s wheel for a few miles until he mentioned that the gravel section was coming up. The left side was open, so I made a wide turn through the gravelly corner and pushed a big gear up the dirt hill. It was rough, but very rideable, and I was surprised to gain several positions by the top of it. As we exited the gravel section and sprinted back up to speed on the pavement Chuck C, Chuck B, Shawn, Brian, and myself were still sitting in the middle of a group of around 20 riders. I didn’t take the time to look back, but apparently the rest of the peloton got slowed down as they made the right-hander onto the gravel/dirt road. Just as Les (team mentor) predicted, the dirt caused a split.

The five of us rode within the group (letting the race happen to us instead of taking the race to the other 15 people) for the next several miles. Since this section was flat, the group started to string out a little and I tried to stay in the middle. It was a constant game of move up, get passed by a couple of people, move up again. I was starting to hurt by the time we turned away from I-65 and I dropped just off the back on the two camel-hump hills. For a second I wondered if my race was over, but these hurt everyone else enough that the pace slowed a bit and I was able to push to catch back on. From miles 13-17 I pretty much sat in and kept within a couple of bikes of Brian, Chuck B, and Shawn, who were riding a bit closer to the front. As we turned South, I jumped in behind Shawn, who was in front and the five of us got organized to try and up the pace for the last few miles. I took a short pull, dropped back, and slotted in again behind Chuck C. The rest of the peloton was more than willing to let us control the pace at this point in the race, and I’m sure we could have ridden the front all the way back to the beginning of the race loop if we had stayed tightly organized.

I got in trouble when I red-lined it on the short hill right after we crossed the bridge over the Duck River. One second I was sitting pretty about 5th or 6th wheel and the next I was going backwards within the group. It doesn’t take long to be spit out the back of a group of 20 guys, so by the second hill I had a gap and was struggling to close it. It was hugelydemoralizing to have the Official’s truck pass me to stay with the lead group, followed quickly by the wheel truck. Heart still pounding and legs burning, I tried like hell to gain ground on the group. Where they would rush up hills and coast/recover on downhills, I put it in TT mode and kept the wattage as constant as I could at about 105% of threshold. I kept up this effort for 15 minutes or so with my prey in sight the whole time. The rollers were killing me, and I knew that the slight headwind was taking it’s toll whereas the peloton could bust through it like a freight train. It hurt like hell, but I eventually passed both race vehicles and clawed my way back to within 10 yards of the group. For a brief moment I let myself think about the sweet, sweet recovery I would get once I had a wheel to sit on, but as we hit the next roller both of the race vehicles gassed it past me again to stay with the lead group. That was the final blow. Heartbreaking. I gave one last push to see if I could gain any more ground, but having widened the gap enough to let the trucks between us again I knew I didn’t have enough left to catch them. I saw Chuck C on the side of the road and knew he had flatted, leaving Chuck B, Shawn, and Brian – just as Les had predicted! – in the lead group. I really wanted to be there to form a leadout train for the finish, but it wasn’t in the cards today.

The last few miles of the race were spent in solo cruise mode. By the time I got to the turnoff for the race loop, the lead group was almost completely out of sight. I looked behind me several times to see if there were any riders coming up on my tail, as I was pretty determined not to lose any more positions than I already had, but the road was empty. Was I in last place? The empty road sure made it feel like it. I rolled on to the finish line at a tempo pace since there was nothing to be gained by killing myself solo. Ended up 21st of a field of 50 riders.