Race Report - Points Race, US Track Nationals (August 14, 1999)

Well.  "Report" might not be the right way to describe the
hodgepodge assembly of half-recollections I'm about to vomit
onto the screen, but I always like to keep my subject lines
as short as possible.

Women's points race:  Lucy Tyler, Karen Dunne, Nicole Reinhart,
Erin Veenstra were some of the big names in the race, and for
a change there were at least five people who had a shot at the
title.  Of course everyone was afraid of Lucy Tyler, and rightly
so.  By 2/3 of the way through the 80 lap race she had double
the points of her nearest competitor (Becky Quinn).  She led
18-9, with everyone else looking like they just couldn't figure
out how to deal with the newly-crowned national pursuit champion.
Interesting to watch her sprint.  "It's kind of like she's 
wrestling a bear", observed Adam Laurent.  Her upper body rocks
forward, backward, left and right in what looks like a completely
random fashion as she slowly motors past the competition (e.g.
Nicole Reinhart sprinting flat-out for points).  You almost don't
want her to win because her form is so aesthetically displeasing.
Somehow it doesn't seem right.  

In the end it was Marjon Marik, who had been counterattacking 
relentlessly for the entire race, who decoded the Tyler enigma.
She was joined by Dana Walton, Sarah Uhl, and later Megan Troxell
in a break which lapped the field near the end of the race.  It
was a big surprise.  All of a sudden, Marik, with 6 points and
a lap, was the new race leader over Uhl and Walton.  Troxell 
gained her lap with a mere 6 laps remaining in the race, vaulting
her to 3rd with 2 points ahead of Walton with 1.  With just a few
laps remaining, the rest of the field had nothing to do but contend
for sixth place, as Lucy Tyler had 5th all but locked up.  A 
disappointing night for some of the big names out there who might
have been expecting podium finishes or even the national title,
but a great night for Marik, who really earned it, along with her
breakmates.  "There is justice in the world", a smiling Mike Tillman
pronounced as he rode alongside Marjon in the warmup area after
the race was over.  


Men's points race:  I'm sitting in the infield talking to Kent
Bostick.  

"Are you nervous?", he asks.  
"Yes", I reply.  "This is my first nationals points race."
"Oh, don't worry, it'll be pretty safe."
"Yeah, I know, I'm more worried about getting dropped."
He smiles reassuringly, looks me in the eye and says,
"Look, the way these points races go is, I pull most of the way.
So if you can stay on my wheel, you'll be fine."

He's smiling.  A cruel, knowing smile.
Thanks, Kent.

"How old do you think I am?"
"Forty-six?", I respond.
"Forty-seven", he says with an air of immense satisfaction.

Yeah, it's my first nationals points race, and my mind is
going in circles about what to do.  I'm popping salt tablets
left and right, chugging water bottles every few minutes, 
running out to the bathroom again and again while all the
more experienced riders discreetly relieve themselves into
empty water bottles in the infield.  I even bought a large
order of french fries because I was feeling a little hungry,
but I was too nervous to eat more than a third of them, plus,
Adam Laurent saw me holding them and yelled, "Don't eat those!",
as if it would be the death of me.  I did a lot of standing
around looking stressed out, staring off into space, and
fidgeting.  People have been warming up for like an hour
and I haven't yet done a single thing besides sit on my
ass and chug water and have conversations with Kent Bostick
were I can't hear 90% of what he's saying because the announcer
is talking over the PA and it's too loud.  So I nod and act
like I understand and agree.  

Fortunately for me, the schedule runs late and I finally get
my act together and find some rollers to ride for a while.
Around quarter after nine they're lining us up.  The way this
race is going to go is as follows:  someone from Shaklee is
going to win.  They're too organized and they have too many
good riders and too much collective experience for this not
to be the case.  To be sure, there are other really strong 
riders in the race.  Adam Laurent, Mike Tillman, Brian Whitcomb,
and guys like Ryan Oelkers for whom this is their first event
of the week.  But it doesn't matter.  Shaklee will win.  The
key, then, for a single rider like myself is to wait for the
right move and either bridge to it solo or be in it from the
beginning.  "Those guys are all working together", says Jame
Carney.  "If a break gets off and it we're not represented, 
then it's not going to last.  It *will* be brought back.  So
don't waste energy going with a break that won't stick".  I
nod my head and wander off holding my french fries and my 
yellow AllSport.  

The race starts and I feel great.  I decide to sit in the 
field and wait patiently for the right move.  Just like fifteen
other riders, no doubt.  But it doesn't matter.  Patience.  So
I sit out the first sprint, the second, and the third.  It's
easy to do these races when you don't do any work, I realize.
Sometimes it doesn't even feel like I'm pedalling.  

All of a sudden I look up and there's a break of six with a 
quarter lap lead.  I squint my eyes and make out one, no two
Shaklee jerseys - Colby Pearce and John Walrod.  And there's
Adam Laurent, and Brian Whitcomb, and Dan Larson.  Dan rode
team pursuit with me and I know from racing with him that he'll
work to make this break stick.  So will Whitcomb.  Shaklee's
got two riders out of six, so they're happy.  Laurent is in
there, so Tillman can't chase.  There's another guy in there
who I recognize vaguely as a reasonably strong rider who'll
no doubt turn himself inside out - it's The Move.  By the time
I make my way to the front of the field and position myself
for a solo bridge attempt, they've got half a lap and Jame is
at the front blocking.  There's no way I can make it by myself
and there's no way Jame will let a chase group form so I, like
many others, have to say to myself, "F*ck!" and settle back
into the field and figure out what the hell to do now.  

The answer is, not much.  The group of six gains their lap
on a sprint lap, which is interesting because with a quarter
lap remaining the guys at the front of the field are suddenly
sprinting for points.  But after that Shaklee takes over and
the rest of the race runs like clockwork for them.  My favorite
tactic when contesting sprints is to wait for that moment with
about 2 laps to go where someone in the field suddenly says
to himself, "Wait a minute, what the hell am I doing at the 
front two laps before a sprint, this is stupid", and swings
up track, taking everyone else with him becaues they're all
thinking, "No way I'm going to go to the front of the field
with 1.8 laps to go".  At that moment, it's wide open and a 
solo rider who makes a vicious attack can get out to a huge
lead quickly enough to make everyone else resign themselves
to sprinting for second place points.  But this tactic, which
works in certain points races, does not work in a points race
Shaklee wants to win because like I said, they're too organized
to let stuff like that happen.  With three laps to go before
every sprint, they've got Jame, Jonas and Kent up there working
support for John and Colby and running interference to disrupt
Tillman, who is now working for Adam Laurent.  So a random 
rider like me has only one chance to score points under these
circumstances, and that is, get the hell up to the front early,
like with 5 laps to go, and stay there.  

The first time I figure this out is with 1 to go and I light
it up from 2/3 of the way back and suddenly I'm flying past
the field, up to the lead sprinters, and YES, I get fifth place,
zero points.  By the time I cross the finish line I'm completely
spun out and all of a sudden we're in a five or six man break
and the temperature has dropped twenty degrees and there's a 
20 mile an hour headwind on the backstretch.  Thunderstorms
on the way, but the race is official, less than 40 laps to go
out of 120.  I think to myself, ok, maybe something can come 
of this, we've got Laurent, Colby, Walrod, Clark Sheehan, Tommy
Mulkey, Bostick - this could work.  But Adam, John Walrod, and
Colby are busy watching each other, Bostick is tired from doing
leadouts, Mulkey won't work because Whitcomb isn't there - too 
much discord.  We're caught, and suddenly I'm tired.  30 laps 
to go and I'm a pathetic loser.  I haven't scored a single point.  
Suddenly I hear one of the riders' coaches in the infield
trying to get his guy riled up:  "You're worthless!  Look at
you!  You can't even score!".  The wind is blowing, rain is
on the way, people are waiting for it to start pouring and
for the double gunshot.  With 20 to go I manage to score a point,
and now everything just sucks.  I'm slobbering all over myself
at the back of the field, looking up at the lap cards every lap,
counting down.  It takes me ten laps to figure out that I ought
to go hard in the final sprint because there will no doubt be
other guys with only one point, and ties are broken by placing
in the last sprint.  Shaklee's got it all set up again, and it's
Shaklee against Tillman leading out Laurent, but Colby has it
in the bag, Laurent gets second in the sprint and in the race,
Walrod is third, Whitcomb holds on to fourth, and Dan Larson
is fifth with zero points and a lap on the field.  "I came in
fifth in a lot of sprints", he tells me afterward.  Me?  I'm
sixth in the final sprint, right behind Steve Sevener who is
fifth, also with one point to his name, so I get 15th place.
I'm a worthless loser.  Before the race I told myself I wanted
to finish and to win one sprint.  Secretly I wanted more, but
it's always like that.