In the (Feed)Zone
w/Mark Swartzendruber

2004 Master's National Championships
"I'm Not A Diesel I'm Just Big Boned!"

Setting: Antelope Island - a landmass in the Great Stink Lake, Utah.
Event: Master's National TT Championships 40-44
Time: 10:15 a.m.

Dizzy from thin dry air perfumed with noxious vapors of evaporating 28% saline water, algae and brine shrimp, Druber clips in for the countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, BEEEP. Druber rolls off the start house ramp to the din of the race announcer's 1980's "Morning Madhouse" DJ style nattering…
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"The wind is beginning to pick up a bit and I'll tell ya' that'll make the conditions tough man. Yeah, the wind will affect some of the riders today but it won't have much affect on the big motors, like this guy! THE BIG DIESEL! MARK SWARTZENDRUBER of Champaign, IL and the Turin Cycling Team.

I'm sure he meant well but my chronically fragile ego was stung. I looked up at the announcer. Sounding very much like Eric Cartman I screamed as I sped away, "HEY! I'm not a diesel, my mother says I'm just festively plump."

Motivated to ride hard for all of you cyclists who enjoy pastries and get no respect, Druber pushed really, really hard on the pedals. The course was 36k and contained a couple of significant climbs, which would require serious pedal pounding in order to earn a spot on the podium. 46 minutes and 50 seconds later, Druber rolled in with the category's fastest time to that point. 30 seconds later, Brian Lemke from Phoenix came in at 46:20. A few minutes later Randy Corcoran form Albuquerque set the standard with a very fast 45:52.

Druber came to the Great Salt Lick with a goal of finishing in the top 5. The previous day as Druber crossed the lake on the causeway toward Antelope Island to pre ride the course with fellow master rider MoleMan and super Espior Nick "I need a chick" Reistadt, Druber felt a 48-minute effort would medal. Getting a glimpse of the terrain of the island from the rental boat Durango, Druber asked what must be the most often posed questions by anyone viewing Antelope Island for the first time. "Did someone fart?"

After riding the course, Druber decided to change out the 54-chain ring for a 55, as the consensus was that nothing short of sub 47 would be in the hunt. Besides which, some long downhill stretches on the course were such that the force of gravity interacting with my mass would cause me to spin out of a 54x11 gearing ratio.

Druber is well aware that National Championships are decided on single days and contested by those who show. As a former girlfriend, who given her 'druthers would have Druber more interested in art and theater than cycling, reminded Druber after he won the district Road Race one year- "You're only the state champion of those who showed up. I'm sure there are faster riders than you in the state." Hard pressed to dispute her position, Druber took the high road and dumped the bitch. That said, Druber would like to thank LaFromboise Southard, Sternlicht, Tilford, Turbo and the myriad other riders between the ages of 40 and 44 who are faster for electing not to compete in the TT this year. Druber would also like to thank Horner's parents for giving birth to Chris 11 years after Druber was born. The Bronze medal hangs proudly in the bedroom.

After the time trial, Druber made several trips to the posted results to make sure his name was still on the board. On the third trip to the results stand he had the happy occasion to run across MKA who was having his tandem serviced in preparation for the Tandem TT. Looking around, Druber asked, "Whom are you riding with?" MKA pointed to a coffin in the back of his station wagon. "Vampinator" MKA mentioned that he'd bargained with the USCF to provide Vampy with one of the 700 American Bison that inhabit the island in the likely event of a win. "The Vampire has so many jersey's and gold medals at this point, he's more interested in the 10 gallons of blood from the Bison than in the medal". MKA explained to Druber that this would keep the Vampire alive through September. He then asked Druber for sage advice for the upcoming event in typical self-deprecating fashion. "Any words of wisdom for a couple of flailers?" Druber fully aware that the odds of an MKA/Vampire V were even to negative, simply offered, "Have fun". MKA and Vampy did just that and scorched the course in 45:04 to add to their respective collections of starz-n-barz jerseys.

Druber is now perplexed. If Time Trials are not real races and Masters Races are not real races, where does that place a Master's Tandem Time Trial on the spectrum? HMMM.

The next afternoon the road race left from The Lodges at Deer Valley, elevation 7160 feet. The 106 strong 40-44 pel descended like a swarm of bees to the valley floor some 1000 feet below. During the descent, several typical masters racers with more money than sense - outfitted with the most expensive in light weight composite frames and deep section carbon fiber wheels that tip the scales at under 1400 grams per pair began to experience the inevitable adverse effects of too much money spent to sacrifice grams. Their bikes began to shimmy violently at 45 mph. The riders, unable to control their super light steeds and downhill speeds, braked hard, raised their hands to signal distress and caused quite a panic in the peloton, as riders all around the shimmying bikes swerved in all directions to avoid a potentially ugly meeting with the forces of nature. It was harrowing. At the front of the group, Lemke, MKA, Squeek and the Vampire were firing downhill on all cylinders. Druber, intent on saving his life backed off on the descent. The group split and Druber found himself being separated from the front of the race on a descent. Not a likely scenario given my girth, but with 46 miles of racing to go, the thought was to survive the Nims on the downhill and begin racing when the first climb shells the posers. Druber just hoped he wouldn't be counted as one of the posers by the top of the first climb.

A funny thing happens in bike races. I think it's more particular to masters' races than Pro 1,2 races, at least in my experience. In races that involve significant climbing, there is a mad rush to the base of the first climb. Riders swarm, take significant risk and do silly things in order to be at the base of a climb at the front. Then, the climbing starts and the riders who exerted so much energy to get to the front at the base of a mountain get shelled ¼ of the way up the hill. Once over the top, the front group will work its advantage smoothly. Riders behind will re group and chase. In Pro 1,2 races, the lagging riders will all work together to re integrate with the front group. In master's races, generally 5 out of 20 in a chase group will work. 5 out of 20 are hanging on for dear life at the back of the chase group and 10 out of 20 are sitting on in the middle waiting to attack the 5 who are working to re integrate the group with the front of the race. It's a cutthroat atmosphere.

Eventually our little chase group re integrated with the front group a few miles later. The Vampire was driving the pace; attacking, sucking Bison blood from his bottles and beating back the wooden stake and cross wielding vampire chasers. With 13 miles left to race (out of close to 50) the Vampire went away up a climb, pursued by Sheldrake and Hunt among others. The climb separated the field again and the race was on. Druber crested the climb just after the lead group of 10. Chasing down the hill, Druber was joined by Lemke and Corcoran along with 6 others. This looked promising since we had the top 3 podium spots from the TT in our chase group and we were 20 seconds behind the lead group. We worked fairly well together hoping that negative race dynamics up the road would slow the leaders a bit. But, then the inevitable occurred. A Nim with a Hammer Gel kit and one with a Westwood Cyclery kit started attacking Lemke and Corcoran and I despite the fact that we had closed our groups' gap to 10 seconds. This disintegrated our group, nullified the chase and the lead group's advantage grew as we hit the outskirts of Park City with 5 uphill miles left to race. The race was now officially a free for all.

The Vampire predictably won another National Championship - the third of the week if you count the tandem TT's - but not without a strong challenge by Hunt and Sheldrake who finished but a second down. MKA took a well-deserved 5th to give Labor two podium spots. Lemke had enough energy even after all of his chase work to cop 10th 31 seconds down. Druber finished 16th, 40 seconds back. It's a position to be content with, knowing that I live 1000 miles from the closest mountain and outweigh the top 3 finishers collectively.

Some minutes later as the 45-49 group finished, a thin man on a Bianchi came across the finish line and proceeded to destroy his machine. Furiously throwing his bike, cursing and stomping on his carbon fiber wheels, he began with red faced fury to tell everyone within ear shot, whether they'd asked or not, how he was robbed of "his" starz-n-barz by a broken axle just as he began to sprint for the V. I suppose that some people felt pity at hearing this sad tale, but most were simply thankful that a jackass like that wasn't their National Champion.

Congratulations to all of the winners, medalists and finishers. It has been said that no Schlubs show up for National's. This is true. As evidenced by the fact that we finished the 50-mile course in 1:57 for a 25.1 mph average despite the climbing, every one who raced is a winner and a tough competitor. It can now be said that along with Southern California Master's races, Master's Nationals are "real bike races".

The Lovely Kathy and I enjoyed our 5 days in Park City immensely. So much so, that we're planning a ski vacation this winter. Truly, with the exception of Ezekiel, the bearded loner in a white robe and his hag of a wife who kept trying to entice Kathy into their car with salt-water taffy at the Great Stink Lake, the people were friendly and the restaurants were awesome. Thanks to Park City and Antelope Island for the spectacular venues.

 

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