Reflections on the World Masters Track Championships 2008

This is my experience of the Championships- it is largely about me, and how I felt, with only passing reference to how others went. Thankfully Tilds has looked after this better than I could have done.

The Lead Up
Lots of preparation, including mental. The Physical was pretty important, having come out of the National Championships with a fair idea that I needed to do something different. I had an approach to the pursuit which was pretty natural, having done a fair bit of middle distance running as a junior. Pacing comes naturally to me, and pursuit is all about pacing. On the face of it, it seems that you just go all out for 3 ½ or 4 mins, and that is all. The reality is that you cannot hold anything like a sprinting pace for that time frame, and when you look at a powermeter file, you are doing well to hold twice your time trial power (or functional threshold power- FTP) for one minute, and over the time frame of a pursuit, holding 1.3-1.5 times your FTP is very hard even if you have trained yourself for this event. Hence if you go out too hard, you will die in a big way after the first few laps. Anyway, back to me. I figured that unlike many of my competitors, holding pace wasn’t the problem, but sheer power was. I needed more of a burst at the start. I needed to get my lap times down. I decided that to do this I needed some serious work on my core muscles, and got into using the Swiss ball in a big way- using it for a short while most days, rather than doing longer workouts, which I thought would be harder to sustain. We also did a fair bit of motor pacing on the track to increase top end speed. The other piece of the puzzle was that me and a couple of the other guys had talked about getting powermeters, and after a bit of research, we got some powertaps locally. The aim was to use a couple of old powertap hubs the coach had on the track bike, but this has not worked out as well as we hoped, as the older hubs don’t cope with backwards force on a fixed gear that happens in most situations on the track. End result is not much usable data. Off the track was another story, with the hubs being pretty enlightening for you average road ride, particularly in sticking to lower powers in the early stages of the season. The big advantage for me was in doing shorter intervals on the bike trainer. A lot of shorter intervals are just not doable by using your heart rate, and must be done by perceived exertion. I always found them pretty hard to get right. With the powermeter, it became much easier and in looking at the results over time, it was clear where you were needing more work, and just how much improvement you were getting. I found that power didn’t seem to vary so much according to your mood and how you were feeling as I had thought it would. Gratifyingly, after a winter of colds and as much training as I could squeeze in, October saw me peaking pretty well, with my mean maximal power over 5 mins up from 380wats in August to 410wats. At least some of this is holding it together better when you feel ragged towards the end of the effort- you get better at hurting yourself!

On the Way
The plans for the Worlds had solidified since the Nationals, with a 2 week family holiday seeming a much more civilized way of doing things than flying in the day before with a mass of luggage. (At the nationals we had arranged a giant crate to be delivered by courier, but there were fewer of us this time around). The idea of having a bit of family support appealed too, as did the time off work afterward. One of the other coaches had offered to my coach to take a couple of our bikes to Sydney, so it was all falling into place. Like all plans, things go wrong. The last few weeks were mad, with me both Jodie and I doing the work of 2 people in our day jobs, and trying to keep Euan happy through a couple of nasty colds, which was a challenge. Thankfully Jodie’s parents were around for a week or two to help out, otherwise things would have gone pear-shaped in a big way. We made it to Friday and I went and did my final track session, which was truly awful, particularly given the previous friday’s felt like I was on fire. Anyway, confirmed the bike was OK for transport, boxed up for pick up Saturday afternoon. The car was packed with the ridiculous amount of stuff you need to race track seriously and we slept well. Got away at a leisurely hour on Saturday morning, taking our time up the highway as you do with a 3 year old. Just shy of Albury, heard from Simon that the other coach had had a change of heart and couldn’t take the bikes. Oh, goody! Talk about landing us in the sh+t. Not good for one’s equilibrium before the big race. I did my best not to think about it while Simon tried to sort it out. 24hours and 8 courier companies later, it was on its way to Sydney. I was now in Canberra, ready to focus on the event. Alas, I heard from one of the other competitors that you had to register in person for your events the day prior. I called up and yes this was indeed the case. My begging and pleading was to no avail and my warm up kilo was looking dead in the water. By this stage I was a blithering wreck and barely able to communicate. Eventually I did what most sensible bike riders do in this circumstance- I went for a ride. Feeling much better, with much of my equanimity restored, I decided to head on up to Sydney first thing and see if I could sort things out there.

The Worlds Await
Arriving at the Velodrome, I tried to register for the TT- “No, too late, but you are OK for your other events.” Resigned to this, I thought I would get in a warmup later in the afternoon after picking up my bike which had arrived safe and sound at the hotel. Before doing this, I checked out the start list, seeing my name there after all- I thought I would just keep my head down and hope for the best.

For those of you who have never done a track event, there is a great deal of standing around, talking and general tinkering going on. The local fauna range from the sublime to the ridiculous in Masters, with some looking primed to win and others just glad to have got here at all. It would be fair to say that most have trained pretty hard, and are in pretty good shape (though those in the older groups tended to have more saggy bits than the younger ones). Bikes are similarly varied ranging from steel frames from long defunct builders with rear discs that appear to be hewn from stone or wood, to the most high tech carbon frames that you could wish for. There were plenty of BTs, but then, where else would you expect to see these? We elbowed our way into a decent position and setup our gear, prior to leaving again. If you hang about all day, you go a bit stir crazy, but you need to set up early to get a place at all. Eating is a bit of an issue, as it is easy not to remember to eat at the right times, and the session can run late. Prudence requires avoiding the many local kebab joints for something a little more predictable for the stomach. Got to get coffee times right too. Too much and you are all over the place, too little and you start your event like you have legs of lead.

The Kilo
Ben and I had lunch at the local coffee shop in the Bass Hill mall which, while it is no Brunetti’s, is used to seeing cyclists. Then back for the aforementioned tinkering. My bike was assembled, new bars and gears swapped in, and then we talked gears (as you do, at the track). Ben settled on 102 and I went for 100 (Didn’t want to blow a foo-foo valve or anything in my warm up event). When we got a chance to go out on the track, it was mayhem, with about 50 men (the women had finished) of all ages riding anything up to and including double discs and aero helmets at all sorts of speeds. It seems to be a point of pride for the older riders to creep around the top of the track at a snail’s pace, which I find quite terrifying. Whilst you are unlikely to injure yourself badly, a slide down the track would give you a nasty burn, and that I could do without. Hence a roll around the blue a few times was enough, with the real warmup done on the ergo/roadbike. I do not know about anyone else, but for me, a long warmup is important. 20-30 mins at E1, followed by a break, a few more mins of E1-E2 then 4-5mins at Anaerobic threshold to open up the jets. Then a few more minutes of E1 to get finish off. All this for one and a bit minutes of racing.

Ended up in the heat following Ben, who did a PB, but not the PB he was wanting. It felt good to be in the start gate, the eyes of the crowd on me (In truth this comprised the other riders who were in between tinkering and talking, and the few loved ones-partners, children, etc. sparsely peppering the stands, who took time out from their conversations. Still, this is the World Championships and by golly, it feels special!). I had put a lot of work into getting the most out of my start, and when the gun went, so did I. Whilst my start is far from powerful, at least I can get a bit of a throw from the gate and this makes things a lot easier. The first lap was pretty reasonable, and the second was in the 16s. I felt like I was flying coming into the third, but then felt like my bike wanted to buck me off at the end of the back straight. Riding a front disc that feels like it wants to fly is a rather unnerving experience. I held it down through the corner, but eased off, a little spooked. The same thing happened again on the fourth lap in the same place, and I pretty much rolled it home. The time was low 1.13s, which is a PB for me, though still seconds away from the endurance track riders who can sprint. More seconds to the true sprinters, but they are only a distant relation to normal bike riders, and don’t count for comparisons. What the hell happened with the front disc? After a lot of conversing, interspersed with tinkering, we worked out that the spot was where the wind from the entrance tunnel came up, so I figured I was the victim of a crosswind. It didn’t happen to me again. So in the shakedown, I was really happy with my ride, had gotten rid of most of my nerves, and had sorted out a few equipment issues. Tilda Vaughan even gave me splits from her vantage point in the stands, which was great to see just how my legs were doing- Thanks! Tomorrow the pursuit.

The Pursuit
Stayed up late talking to Simon (my coach),who came in at about 2300 after his flight was delayed. Had a late lie in, a generous breakfast (bacon and egg roll) and then went down to get a spot for the afternoon session. I was a bit unhappy that my throat was getting that familiar scratchy feel of a cold, but that was not going to put me off now. Had Tony turn up, keen for a bit of a warmup prior to the Scratch on Thursday, and to provide a bit of support. Jodie, Euan and my parents arrived, so the cheer squad was complete! Saw Shirley Amy demolish her opposition in the women’s 55-59 age group, I watched Meg show that she was world champion material in the women’s 40-44, and then saw Michael Goldie, who I have yet to actually meet, but who I feel I know from reading his blog on the Carnegie-Caulfield website (It was a great inspiration when I felt I was losing my way in the depths of winter). Nick Chadderton and Stu Vaughan had solid rides in their groups, but not the stellar performances they were hoping for (should be said that their standards are high- not many places to go from world champion!) I was well into my warmup by this stage, and the legs were feeling good. The temperature was a bit higher than Wednesday and it felt a little less humid. I was planning on riding the 100 gear but in talking to Simon, thought I would ride 102, given how I was feeling and the conditions (You have to feel good to ride a bigger gear than you are used to, as you can gain some time with it but if you can’t turn it and die, you can lose a lot more in the later laps. A slightly too small gear may limit you a bit, but you tend to lose less at the end.) A couple of heats before me was Ben, against Matt Chessum, who had been training hard under Hilton Clarke since the Nationals, and had gone pretty fast the evening prior in the kilo. Ben jumped out of the blocks and he and Matt were neck and neck for a couple of laps, then Matt started to pull him back, overtaking him in the latter part of the 2nd kilo. Ben didn’t let him get too much, and pulled out a PB 3.47, which was unexpected and welcome for him, given that the kilo hadn’t yielded all he hoped for. Matt qualified for the gold medal ride off in 3.35- an awesome ride! By this stage, I was up there, waiting for the start- aero helmet on, which shuts out pretty much everything (and looks ridiculous to boot), shoes tightened, shoe covers on. My bike is just right, the wheels spin freely, the chain is pretty quiet (track chains are noi-sy, when you are used to road bike chains), and everything has been checked. I am riding against a NZ guy who is sitting just near us. My experience of the next few minutes is of the 30sec count, then the beep for 10 secs, and then the familiar rhythm of 5-4-3-2 and up- 1 and back behind the seat- bang and my body throws itself forward to get whatever help it can off the start gate to start the big gear rolling. Feels OK, and push it through, but not too hard. Don’t want to blow it. 14secs is the call from Simon- just right. The second lap is 17.4, then 17.2- ease it off a bit. Go out to 17.4 again, then 17.8. If I can just hold it there, it will be apples. Hold it in the low 18s until that awful feeling that sets in towards the end, where you are putting up with all the pain you can, but the body starts to fail. 4 to go is 18.4, but can’t hold it and the last 2 clock in at 18.8. Remember seeing the other guy ahead at the end of the middle kilo, but can’t say that it gave me much, as I was truly on the rivet. Can’t remember hearing the bell for the last lap, which usually helps you pull out a bit more, and later I find out that I didn’t get one for whatever reason. Ride through until I am sure it is over by seeing the other rider heading up the track. (I almost always lose count of the laps by the end of a pursuit). 3.42.5. A PB by about 5 seconds. I am elated, but at the same time can’t avoid thinking about what might have been. 3.40 was my goal, and to get so close. Hard not to wonder whether the developing cold would have had any effect, but you never know these things, and you are only ever as good on the day as you are. The same goes for the opposition- in 2007 I would have come in 6th, but this year, I was 12th- again short of my aim for a top 10 finish. After the first few minutes, these mixed feelings became much more positive. Everyone said I had ridden well, and after the other guy got an early lead on me, I reeled him back in slowly and beat him convincingly. Not important in qualifying, but definitely good for the ego.

Scratchey Scratch, Scratched
Thursday morning came, and I was first up in the Scratch race. My cold had definitely taken hold, though I was still OK, and I found it hard to get back the intensity of the previous afternoon. In the background, it was Euan’s birthday and we were all going up to Newcastle to stay with the relatives. If I qualified, I would stay and they would go on the train; if I didn’t then I would go up there with them in our car. So there I was, having already had a great meet, starting to feel like I had lost my physical edge and with the option of an easy out- never a good combination. I decided to see how the race panned out and let it decide for me. Off we rolled, and without further ado, the racing was on. I swung off the front for the first time with the bunch fairly strung out and dropped in behind Steve Young, who is a very aggressive rider from Geelong (perfect for this very un-aggressive rider from Cliton Hill.) and very predictable. I sat glued to his wheel for much of the rest of the race as it stretched out and bunched up again. Nothing too drastic, but I was definitely feeling the previous 2 days racing in my legs, and the lungs were only just OK. The accelerations hurt (as they always do), but I kept in amongst it. In the last few laps, the pace upped again, and at the point where you ask your body to give more, despite the pain, my brain just had too many excuses lined up. I let the others roll by me in the last lap and a half. At least I would not be qualifying and would not have to make a decision whether or not to stay. Unfortunately, and to my embarrassment, I qualified for the last place in the final. After realizing this (and to the bemusement of Tilds, who reasonably I would be thrilled to make it into the final), I let the commisaires know I would not be racing that evening. I had already made that decision with my legs in the last lap and wasn’t going to change it. I spent the next 24 hours feeling crap about having taken someone else’s spot and not have had the get up and go to do the final, but felt good to wake up with my son on his 3rd birthday. The ups and downs of mixing work, family and riding are thus!

The Washup
I had planned to be back for the points race on Sunday, but let the commisaires know I would not be a starter, given my bike would be back in Castlemaine with Shirley.(See the aforementioned debacle of transporting the bike down) While I was disappointed not to be there, driving through Sydney on that day with about 30 humid degrees on the thermometer made me think it was not a totally bad thing. I learnt that one of my stepfather’s work collegues who had garnered multiple bronzes, broke ribs and punctured a lung in his final race- Sometimes too much is, well, too much.

Next challenge- metro track championships. Kind of like jumping from the ocean into a kiddie pool, but there are not many chances to race pursuit, so count me in!