Peter Clark Classic

This is a story of a cyclist.  It is also a story to encourage those who have not taken the leap into their first road race and have been thinking about it for some time now. But most of all, this is a story for those who just need to distract themselves for a short while reading an SPR blog at their day jobs or procrastinating about that housework that needs to be done.

As the title may suggest, this was my first road race. It was no more than a few months ago I had never owned a road bicycle, or cycled in a group, but especially, never thought I would ever wear skin tight spandex commonly referred to as – the lycra. But the moment I stood in front of that mirror at the bike shop, seeing myself in a pair of bib shorts thinking, ‘I can’t believe I’m here (with this Borat suit on)’, was not a moment of embarrassment but one of acceptance.. and it was time to embrace this new world I was about to enter and embark on a journey.

The past few months of my cycling life consisted of getting used to a road bike (the hard way – by crashing it), getting used to waking up early, getting used to lycra (of which I now love), introduced to group riding and the SPR club, working on developing speed and stamina, sprinting 30km in the freeway bike hike, to now participating in my first race.

As I arrived to the nicely setup SPR tent erected by President Peter, I questioned those more experienced riders around to hear what it was we were supposed to be doing under race conditions. Little did I know this pre-race chit chat would open up a can of worms to the world of “Race Tactics” and “Race Nutrition”. In summary, due to our dominance of numbers in C grade (13 SPR making half the field) the strategy was for two SPR riders to break away early on, if they were pulled back for another two SPR to breakaway straight away, and so on. The intention was to use our power in numbers, work as a team, and wear the others down. OK I thought, seems logical. So off I went to go for a warm up ride.

Taking the time to look around I noticed how beautiful the 20km circuit was, surrounded by landscapes continuously changing from vast rolling hills of bok choy with the occasional Vietnamese farmer and his iconic hat, Llama filled fields eating pine trees, flat coastal plains with grazing cattle, giant areas of lush green grass (from lawn manufacturers), tall state forest trees, horses drinking from nearby lakes and the favourite of all the racers on the day – the unforgettable stench from the chicken farm poo a few kilometres in. The serene landscapes around the course may paint a beautiful picture, but we all know a cyclists vision hardly extends beyond the back tyre of the person in front of you, with maybe the occasional look towards the horizon to see how much more pain you need to endure to get over that hill. Further distraction from the diverse surroundings were the conditions of the roads – horrible. Harsh enough to make you feel like you were in the Paris Roubaix. Punctures were numerous with a number of SPR riders having to retire early. I believe Nicole won the – ‘shortest race prize’ as we passed her early on standing on the side of the road only 4km’s in. None the less it was race time for me.

I’m sure there will be another race report about the day, but from my perspective the entire race was all about who could conserve the most energy. Earlier race tactics which I had just learned were thrown out the window, so I figured I would make my own up – not really knowing what to do. My ad hoc tactical mind came up with: finding the guy with the biggest arse and seek shelter behind him for as long as possible. Seemed like good race tactics right!? So thats what I did. The first lap was relatively slow (33km/h av.), but we did manage to catch up and overtake the A grade womens. Shortly after, the women re-passed us and took the lead. Most of the group seemed to be fine with that and our slow pace meant they were creating a gap in front. One individual voiced his disgust at the situation saying “are you really going to let them do that!” whilst sheltering behind the riders not doing any work of his own. Eventually a couple of SPR guys who had been at the front the whole time stepped it up to regain our masculinity. The group stayed together for the first two laps gradually increasing our speed, and by the end of lap 2 we were probably averaging 35km/h and a few were losing their legs.

As the third and final lap began the pace stepped up again. Several riders were dropped from the group at this point and our average speed would have been up around 38km/h. Shortly into the final lap my water bottles were empty which was somewhat representative of the amount of energy left in my legs. I pushed through all the pain and heat radiating from my legs to stay onto the back of the group. The home straight was approaching and everyone could feel it. With 3km to go I was still at the back hanging on feeling my right calf about to explode with a cramp. The pace was excruciating with one gradual hill to climb. As the group started the climb about 1.5km from the finish I felt the pace reduce a little. Riders trying to conserve their energy for the final sprint. Thinking there was no way I had a chance in the sprint with my cramping calf I decided to make the most of my favourable climbing specifications (ie ‘scrawny asian’ in the words of the President) and gave it all on the climb moving quickly from the back of the group to breaking away and creating a 20m gap. At this point it felt great to be in front with a nice gap to the rest behind 1km to go in my first race, but this feeling was short lived. As my strength gave in towards the top of the hill I was overtaken by most of the field just before a dreaded 130 degree corner. Not one to give up, I tried to power on and stay on the back, but this meant pedaling through the corner to catch up. At full lean and still pedaling the inevitable happened and my pedal caught the road as it kicked my back wheel up into the air and swung my back out viciously. As it came back down (me sideways at this point) the sudden grip of the tyre on the road and force of my body hammered my seatpost into the frame shortening it by 3 inches. John(?) who was directly behind me thought we were both heading home with some road rash and the rarely accomplished ‘high side’ on the bicycle, but amazingly we both made it through the corner upright. At this point with one more turn and a few hundred metres to go, the group was already about to cross the finish line. It was over. I found the companionship of Mark behind and we both rolled through the finish, me in my squatted seat position.

So all in all, a fun morning out with a good bunch of people who share a common love of cycling. The pace was faster then I had expected, and I would compare the work load to slightly faster than a Saturday Main 1 group ride. The average speed for the 60k’s was 36km/h. A special mention to the fabulous support crew (Anna, Sarah, Leanne, Jamie’s Mum) who took photos, held out water bottles to be grabbed and balanced out the SPR tent. Hopefully this story gives you an idea of what it’s like to be a Virgin Racer and ‘pop’ that cherry or calf muscle or back tyre whichever your unlucky enough to do. SPR is an excellent club to get you there and the whole journey has been effortless.

I will leave you with what I think is an excellent summary of cycling. Straight from the mouth of cycling legend Greg LeMond, who said…

“It never gets easier, you just go faster.”

Written by Jen Siah