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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
.
"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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