It was a fun and relaxing weekend with a nice hotel.
Wish more skaters were there.
photos by Shelley Kautz:
http://www.kautzphoto.com/pegasus%20photo%20site/Houston07/Texas%20Flyer...
result:
http://www.premierraces.com/results.htm
My chip time wasn't in the result no doubt because I cross the finish line too many times.
Here's the log:
_The Objective
2007 was a great racing season. I completed my 3 big events: IMCDA, HHH, A2A. I debated on goal for Houston Inline Marathon while feeling fat and happy from Halloween sugar. I didn’t want the chaos of a marathon race. Other options include:
1. get pulled by the Texas Flyers train in pro pack. This would involve declaring Tonya as honorary man so she could skate with us.
2. race the half distance
3. focus on helping teammates to have a good marathon time
The pro pack plan was scraped due to travel issues and injuries. I didn’t want to sprint against 7 and 9-year-olds. I promised Scarlett I’d pull her. My conviction wavered when I saw the size of the half-marathon trophy. Fortunately the Zen Buddhist in me reminded me I don’t need to be attached to another chunk of molecules.
Danny decided to stay in pro division even without the team puller. I love the boy’s spirit.
_Open Division
The road surface didn’t look bad but skaters went down left and right near the start: I saw young Phil and recently injured Jerry on the ground. Not good. Scarlett and I took our time. I planned to go slow the first lap of the 6 laps. I wanted negative splits.
The supposedly flat course was more challenging than anticipated with 2 U turns and 4 climbs per lap. Scarlett and I held a steady pace and slowly pick up Young Phil, New Chris, Shelley, and other random skaters. Couple skaters offered to pull; none seemed steady enough to follow.
We saw Hillary happily cranking on the other side of the street. Spectators and pro skaters cheered us on. Nothing but good vibes in the air. Suddenly Scarlett lost balance and torn the race number off my thigh. Hopefully the number wouldn’t end up caught in someone’s skate. Then Hillary went down after potty break. The street’s feng-shui worked against the Flyers that morning. I talked to a less happy Hillary as she made her way back to the start.
_Pro Waves
The pros started while we’re still on the course. Teenagers with 3 lungs dictated the pace for pro men. Brenda fell near the start; Tonya waited for her. They ended up doing a 2-person time trial. Danny lost his pack and enthusiastically skated his first pro division race solo.
_Half lap to go.
A few skaters in our pack started to “attack.” One actually asked me when he should sprint if he wanted to beat the guy who just left the pack. I found myself coaching complete stranger seeking advice during the race so he could beat me. I didn’t care. I was here for a team skate, and my teammates were doing well. Our pace line cross the line around 1:43. No unnecessary risk, no crash. Mission accomplished.
_Active Spectator
Before start, the announcer said we could skate as many laps as we wanted. I didn’t know if she was joking, but this was a rare chance for me to watch the race from the course. I jumped on the pro pack behind some very tired skaters. I slowed down before the downhill under the bridge to see rest of the pro racers. Chris and Duane’s small chase pack barely held 20 mph. More scattered racers struggled hundred yards behind. How hard was the first lap!?
Rob Bell, Mr. this is my taper exercise before Ironman next week, threw a flyer with more than 3 laps to go opening a huge gap. He smiled and waved at me like he was just warming up for the race. I marvel at the distance between gifted athletes and rest of us.
Danny stopped to re-lace a boot. Tonya stopped to remove a piece of white stuff caught in wheels. Duane and Chris’ pack was down to 3 skaters. Races seldom go according to scripts. I accompanied Danny for a few miles and saw the lead pack strolling on the other side probably going at 15 mph, toying with the people they dropped earlier.
Pro women pace line was a pretty pink blur of 4 skaters. The 2 Powerslide girls sprinted at end of lap 5 as if it was end of race. The move separated Debbie Race and a local skater; neither was able to close the gap.
_Long Distance Time Trialist in the Making
Danny was on lap 5, tapping out steady progress while the pro pack barreled down toward the finish ready to swallow everything in sight. Danny hammered and avoided being lapped by seconds.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
2007 A2A 38-mile race + 49-mile cool down skate
Duane and I signed up for the 38 mile event toward end of the season. We had fond memory of the smooth pavement, chain-towing puppy, missing road, and gator back from our 2003 Texas Flyer team skate. I had vague recollection of the last 49 miles: insufficient hills, rough pavement, and a lot of traffic-basically things I can find in north Texas.
My original plan was to keep Duane (aka the cardio animal) in contact with the lead pack until he finds his rhythm. Duane's mom passed away and had to cancel. My new goals became: 1. Skate hard. 2. Have fun.
Tom Welsh and I consolidated hotel reservations to keep me under budget. Tom knows way too much about boot making and equipment in general.
Only other A2A Texas Flyer this year was Danny who had all kinda car problem on the way to Georgia. H and wife Hillary came close to buy a car during the jouney.
_Expected slow start.
5 minutes into the race, the lead pack was oscillating between 18 and 23 mph. Only at A2A. I was a little star-struck in the same pack as the big names: Matzger, Arndt, Doucet, Gayle. Dan Burger wore a weird brace wrapping his left calf. After the initial set of turns, skaters started taking seemingly unnecessary chances fighting for position. Pace lines reshuffled so often it felt like a 26-mile advanced men race. Several skaters stood up and refused to be part of the chaos.
Each climb took me a little longer to recover. 20 minutes and 6.5 miles into the start, I evaluated my chances of keeping up with the big boys. I decided to shut it down and wait for the chase pack. Man, I wished I were in better shape to do this. I wished Duane were in that pack to represent us.
I didn't see anther soul for minutes ‘til a lone skater passed me stealthily. Did he want to A2A all by himself? A few minutes later, a Boston John came by and invited me in. He did the lion's share of the work; my job was to buy him recovery time and provide additional mass going downhill. I didn't see how 2 of us could fend off the big chase pack, but we skated so well together I decided just to enjoy the moment.
Mile 17, we finally got caught by the big chase pack with Brian McKenney's 80 mm wheels in it. It's good to see Brian out of retirement. The pack wasn't well organized: 2 of the skaters had big back kick and no one wanted to stay behind them. We also had a few sub-100 skaters unaccustomed to all the pushing. The long down hills made it impossible for anyone to get away. Couple skaters in the pack were panting hard after each climb. My heart rate was in zone 2 but legs were full of sour milk. Maybe they're smokers. I led the pack for a few pulls and reached 36 mph feeling the big push on my back. What a rush!
The 87 milers were supposed to wear number on the left while 38-miler on the right thigh. I didn't have much faith in this system. 2 miles to go. I still had no clear idea whom I was racing against other than Herb Gayle. Big Herb was probably already taking shower. 4 of us acted like 38 milers and looked each other. No one wanted to lead. An 87 miler laughed at us and volunteered to pull for a few minutes. 1 guy started taking the smaller circle against traffic. I followed but chickened out after the first blind curve. All the sudden he accelerated and had 10-second lead. The bastard studied the course like I was supposed to. I let him go and watched his lead grow. If I weren't fighting to win, I wasn't risking towing others to the lead. I kept track of the 2 shadows behind me while anticipating attacks from the big pack of supposedly 87-milers. I started going hard before last turn with no one to chase after.
_Long Cool Down Skate
The moment I crossed the line, I stopped caring about the result. I skated hard and felt good and tired. Off-season started now. I craved protein with salty fat. I wished there were an all-you-can-eat restaurant at finish line. I'd been hungry for 2 months.
The reality of 2.5 hr bus wait started to sink in. Hillary told me Danny should be in Dacula real soon. "Good. Did he pack any bacon?" I wanted to ask her.
9:55am.
The Atlanta bound bus would leave at 12:30p; it's probably 1-hour drive. 49 miles at 13 mph was <>
I made rules for my Georgian edition of Pegasus Sunday Morning Stroll: no drafting, no hammering, must have fun. Several small packs asked me to join in; only 1 skater begged when I politely declined to be part of the Collective. It had been a long time since I skated just to enjoy the scenery. I took my time rolling the hills among the trees. The sky contained just right number of clouds. I was surprised to see so many streets without "peachtree" as part of their names.
_Sunday Afternoon Stroll
Mile 55. Left frame came loose. I didn't pack that wrench. "Why did I buy carbon frames with weird size axle bolt!?" I decided to adopt the presidential foreign policy: "ignore the problem; it'll go away."
Miles 60. I was in a bush as the direct result of taking the hot weather advice when a smiling Christina skated by. She claimed to be suffering when walking the grass on a hill. We passed each other a few more times due to my failed attempts to rectify my frame issue. She eventually won the 52-mile race.
Climbing became difficult around mile 65. I had no leg left after Silver Hill. The pavements were as rough as I remembered but with more inclines. At some points I hopped on and off the curbs looking for smooth surface and prayed the mounting bolt would hold. But I was in no rush. I got good looks of the stores and buildings that were a big blur in 2003. I missed my team.
I highfived Eddy who skated toward the start. The pavement turned nice for the final miles. A few skaters passed me shouting encouraging words. I had no urge to chase. The park came into view. I heard cowbells. I heard Cindy announcing the finishers. She's so nice.
The big clock said 6 hour something. I don't remember.
Brian and Renee sat on grass, looking comfortable and well rested.
_Nice Day at the Park
I think a few people came to say hi, but hunger overtook me and I don't have clear recollection of the event right after crossing the line. I consuming sandwiches and sugar water. At least 2 of those guys warned my frame was making weird clicking sound.
_Flyer Sighting
Hillary, whom I saw through out the day, came over and said Danny was doing well at their last meeting. Another skater also told me my teammate was skating relaxed and confident.
Danny came in, arms swinging, looking great. His wife got the camera out just in time for a clear shot of the other side. Danny might have to skate the course again just for the photo. I was so proud and happy for our boy. 87 is a tough distance, especially considering his short preparation.
Many skaters remembered the 2003 TX Flyer team. A skater actually thanked me for the draft from 4 yrs ago.
3pm, still no sign of my skate bag. No shoes, no cell phone, no problem. The hotel was paid for and I had the ID to fly home. I was surprised how little it bothered me. I checked into the hotel Duane booked. It had an indoor lap pool with hot tub. This was the best day.
_Award Ceremony
Our Austin friend Richard Littrell relaxed on grass, looking much better than his 2003 finish. Shortly before the 6pm awards, the last skater completed his 10-hour adventure. I went over to congratulate him. He attempted to raise his right hand. I patted his back, admiring his determination.
My skate bag miraculously appeared with my shoes in it. It felt good to be out of skates. I talked to old friends and made new ones. Danny and Hillary were all smiles. The world was perfect.
The Toronto skaters dominated the day. Stream of familiar faces claimed their awards. Mostly I saw many tireless people devote a big part of their lives to make this event possible. I was grateful.
My original plan was to keep Duane (aka the cardio animal) in contact with the lead pack until he finds his rhythm. Duane's mom passed away and had to cancel. My new goals became: 1. Skate hard. 2. Have fun.
Tom Welsh and I consolidated hotel reservations to keep me under budget. Tom knows way too much about boot making and equipment in general.
Only other A2A Texas Flyer this year was Danny who had all kinda car problem on the way to Georgia. H and wife Hillary came close to buy a car during the jouney.
_Expected slow start.
5 minutes into the race, the lead pack was oscillating between 18 and 23 mph. Only at A2A. I was a little star-struck in the same pack as the big names: Matzger, Arndt, Doucet, Gayle. Dan Burger wore a weird brace wrapping his left calf. After the initial set of turns, skaters started taking seemingly unnecessary chances fighting for position. Pace lines reshuffled so often it felt like a 26-mile advanced men race. Several skaters stood up and refused to be part of the chaos.
Each climb took me a little longer to recover. 20 minutes and 6.5 miles into the start, I evaluated my chances of keeping up with the big boys. I decided to shut it down and wait for the chase pack. Man, I wished I were in better shape to do this. I wished Duane were in that pack to represent us.
I didn't see anther soul for minutes ‘til a lone skater passed me stealthily. Did he want to A2A all by himself? A few minutes later, a Boston John came by and invited me in. He did the lion's share of the work; my job was to buy him recovery time and provide additional mass going downhill. I didn't see how 2 of us could fend off the big chase pack, but we skated so well together I decided just to enjoy the moment.
Mile 17, we finally got caught by the big chase pack with Brian McKenney's 80 mm wheels in it. It's good to see Brian out of retirement. The pack wasn't well organized: 2 of the skaters had big back kick and no one wanted to stay behind them. We also had a few sub-100 skaters unaccustomed to all the pushing. The long down hills made it impossible for anyone to get away. Couple skaters in the pack were panting hard after each climb. My heart rate was in zone 2 but legs were full of sour milk. Maybe they're smokers. I led the pack for a few pulls and reached 36 mph feeling the big push on my back. What a rush!
The 87 milers were supposed to wear number on the left while 38-miler on the right thigh. I didn't have much faith in this system. 2 miles to go. I still had no clear idea whom I was racing against other than Herb Gayle. Big Herb was probably already taking shower. 4 of us acted like 38 milers and looked each other. No one wanted to lead. An 87 miler laughed at us and volunteered to pull for a few minutes. 1 guy started taking the smaller circle against traffic. I followed but chickened out after the first blind curve. All the sudden he accelerated and had 10-second lead. The bastard studied the course like I was supposed to. I let him go and watched his lead grow. If I weren't fighting to win, I wasn't risking towing others to the lead. I kept track of the 2 shadows behind me while anticipating attacks from the big pack of supposedly 87-milers. I started going hard before last turn with no one to chase after.
_Long Cool Down Skate
The moment I crossed the line, I stopped caring about the result. I skated hard and felt good and tired. Off-season started now. I craved protein with salty fat. I wished there were an all-you-can-eat restaurant at finish line. I'd been hungry for 2 months.
The reality of 2.5 hr bus wait started to sink in. Hillary told me Danny should be in Dacula real soon. "Good. Did he pack any bacon?" I wanted to ask her.
9:55am.
The Atlanta bound bus would leave at 12:30p; it's probably 1-hour drive. 49 miles at 13 mph was <>
I made rules for my Georgian edition of Pegasus Sunday Morning Stroll: no drafting, no hammering, must have fun. Several small packs asked me to join in; only 1 skater begged when I politely declined to be part of the Collective. It had been a long time since I skated just to enjoy the scenery. I took my time rolling the hills among the trees. The sky contained just right number of clouds. I was surprised to see so many streets without "peachtree" as part of their names.
_Sunday Afternoon Stroll
Mile 55. Left frame came loose. I didn't pack that wrench. "Why did I buy carbon frames with weird size axle bolt!?" I decided to adopt the presidential foreign policy: "ignore the problem; it'll go away."
Miles 60. I was in a bush as the direct result of taking the hot weather advice when a smiling Christina skated by. She claimed to be suffering when walking the grass on a hill. We passed each other a few more times due to my failed attempts to rectify my frame issue. She eventually won the 52-mile race.
Climbing became difficult around mile 65. I had no leg left after Silver Hill. The pavements were as rough as I remembered but with more inclines. At some points I hopped on and off the curbs looking for smooth surface and prayed the mounting bolt would hold. But I was in no rush. I got good looks of the stores and buildings that were a big blur in 2003. I missed my team.
I highfived Eddy who skated toward the start. The pavement turned nice for the final miles. A few skaters passed me shouting encouraging words. I had no urge to chase. The park came into view. I heard cowbells. I heard Cindy announcing the finishers. She's so nice.
The big clock said 6 hour something. I don't remember.
Brian and Renee sat on grass, looking comfortable and well rested.
_Nice Day at the Park
I think a few people came to say hi, but hunger overtook me and I don't have clear recollection of the event right after crossing the line. I consuming sandwiches and sugar water. At least 2 of those guys warned my frame was making weird clicking sound.
_Flyer Sighting
Hillary, whom I saw through out the day, came over and said Danny was doing well at their last meeting. Another skater also told me my teammate was skating relaxed and confident.
Danny came in, arms swinging, looking great. His wife got the camera out just in time for a clear shot of the other side. Danny might have to skate the course again just for the photo. I was so proud and happy for our boy. 87 is a tough distance, especially considering his short preparation.
Many skaters remembered the 2003 TX Flyer team. A skater actually thanked me for the draft from 4 yrs ago.
3pm, still no sign of my skate bag. No shoes, no cell phone, no problem. The hotel was paid for and I had the ID to fly home. I was surprised how little it bothered me. I checked into the hotel Duane booked. It had an indoor lap pool with hot tub. This was the best day.
_Award Ceremony
Our Austin friend Richard Littrell relaxed on grass, looking much better than his 2003 finish. Shortly before the 6pm awards, the last skater completed his 10-hour adventure. I went over to congratulate him. He attempted to raise his right hand. I patted his back, admiring his determination.
My skate bag miraculously appeared with my shoes in it. It felt good to be out of skates. I talked to old friends and made new ones. Danny and Hillary were all smiles. The world was perfect.
The Toronto skaters dominated the day. Stream of familiar faces claimed their awards. Mostly I saw many tireless people devote a big part of their lives to make this event possible. I was grateful.
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