NEW WEBSITE

Hey everyone, as some of you may know I've been working on making a new website for my race reports, with a couple of extra pages and just an overall better look. Well, after a long time in the making, it's finally done! This means this blog will no longer be updated. Fear not, race reports will still be written every (okay, most) Monday morning and posted at www.stuartwight.com, so please head on over and have a look. If there is something you would like to see more or less of, or some sort of request, please let me know and I can see what I can do. Thanks!

So close yet so far

Yesterday we were in the beautiful area of Pontorson, which is very close to the famous Mt. Saint Michel. It was not a super nice day, raining on and off, but not too cold either, so I couldn't complain. This course was pretty much the essence of euro racing at its finest, tiny roads, amazingly strong crosswinds (somehow the wind was against you the whole lap, figure that one out!), rain, mud, and smelly farmer's fields. Throw almost 150 crazy cyclists on there, including a former world champion, and it makes for some exciting racing. After only a couple of kilometers we got onto this road with a huge crosswind, it was literally throwing me off the ground. At this point it was all out battle to get into the echelon that was soon to break the field to shreds. It wasn't easy to hold position, but with some elbows, headbutts, yelling, wheel touching, and other nonsense, I managed to stay up at the front and make the split that happened just as quickly as everyone expected. Now we were about 40 riders probably, maybe a bit more but not too much, and the race was very controlled for the next little while. With the wind, it was impossible to stay away in a small group, after not much time at all you would look back and find a colorful sea of riders coming up behind. With that in mind, I tried my best to stay hidden from the wind, but also stay away from the crashes that were happening due to the thick mud on the small farming roads. Not a whole lot of action went on, but I was quite content with that, as for some reason my legs were not feeling quite as primed and ready as in the previous races. I felt like I could keep this moderately painful pace for as long as I needed to, but that once all hell started breaking loose, that I was going to struggle. I shoved bars, gels, and water down to try to get some energy, but still didn't quite have that jump that was there the last few weeks.

With about 50km to go things were starting to heat up again, with positioning being very key on the many sections of crosswind. I was riding as far over to the left as I could, with the wind coming from the right, so as far as energy saving was concerned, I was perfect. The only problem was I was riding literally inches from the biggest ditch I have ever seen, and being in the perfect position means you need to defend in with your life. It's more than a little claustrophobic being in these situations, but it's important to just relax and things will turn out fine. Or at least, most of the time. Somewhere towards the middle of the echelon two people touched wheels, neither crashed but they both twitched towards the outside, which sent a nice wave of twitches across the whole group. That's great when you've got 20 feet of pavement to move onto, but when there is a hole that likely leads to China inches from your tires, things aren't so wonderful! As the guy next to me came over into my space I remember thinking, okay, this is it, probably looking at a couple broken bones, front wheel is definitely toast, hopefully won't hit my face too hard, etc. It's funny how time slows to a halt when you are about to go through something catastrophic, but at least it gives you some funny memories of what you were thinking before going headfirst into a ditch. Then, just as my wheel entered the grass, call it an act of God, stroke of luck, good time, superb bike handling skills, whatever, but the ditch filled itself with dirt just for me to pass over. We were passing the entrance of a farmer's field, and this was the "driveway" he must have used for his tractors. Upon realizing I wasn't dead, and in fact still on my bike, I had a new situation: the fence that was playing a cruel game of chicken with me, and didn't seem like it had any intention of moving. With that, I hauled my bike parallel to the road, only on the wrong side of the ditch, and continued along cyclocross style losing time to the group, but at least still on my bike. I remembered watching the famous stage 9 of the 2003 Tour de France where Lance Armstrong took a shortcut across a field to avoid Joseba Beloki's crash in the mountains. With that, I swung a leg over my saddle, unclipped and vaulted over the ditch, not nearly as gracefully as I'm making it sound! I hopped back on the bike and rode back up to the pack. Whew, that was enough excitement for one day!

So, back to the race, again, no breakaways were able to stay away for long, but with about 20km to go, I knew I had to get away to have any hope of winning. I jumped away from the group on the one small climb of the circuit, and got a good gap quickly. It was horrible out there along by I knew it was my only shot, judging by the numbers I have been putting out in sprints lately (not so high!). I took a quick look back and saw the group had shattered, but about 8 riders were coming up to me. I sat up, took a drink, and jumped on with them as they whizzed by. This one looked like it would go the distance, as it was as big as any other group on the road. Looking back it was absolute chaos, with small groups of riders everywhere. We worked together for a little, but everyone was also trying to soft pedal to save themselves. Again, I knew my only chances were to get away, hopefully solo. With 5km to, on top of the same hill I jumped hard, not even looking back to see if anyone came. I just put my head down and hammered. After a bit I took a quick look, and while I was alone for the moment, one rider was coming across the gap quick. I tried to keep him off my wheel, but with about 2km to go he latched on. At this point he wasn't going to take his turn in the wind, and despite my yelling he didn't move. Knowing this guy had a background in track, I was pretty sure he could take me in a sprint, especially with me leading it out, so I jumped again, and again, with less and less power in my screaming legs. Every time he just glued himself to my wheel, and then finally came around me in the sprint. I managed to come back a little in the last 40 meters or so, but he still took the win, by a couple centimeters I think. The guy at the photo finish said it was pretty close.

In any case, he was strong all day and got a well deserved win, I just wish I could put my hands up after a race, this whole second and third place is starting to get to me! I do have to keep the big picture in mind though, and remember it's only March. The big races are still to come. After reviewing the whole race in my head, I am pleased with how it went, I raced smart and made the right moves, just couldn't quite finish it off. I think this will motivate me for the biggest of the races I'll do here in France though, and that's a National level Junior race next weekend. Maybe there I will get to take one step higher on the podium!

Grand Prix d'Yquelon

Yet another beautiful day for racing here in Normandie yesterday, waking up we were greeted to the sound of birds chirping and a nice blue sky for the first day of spring. Although, naturally, the winds were still high and would likely be a big factor in the Grand Prix d'Yquelon. This race was a 1st category, so basically the highest you can go for amateur racing, and there are some pros thrown into the mix as well. Usually I race 2nd category, but since there were no other races going on in the region, I figured I'd have a go with the big guns and have some fun. Let me just start by saying there is certainly a notable increase in talent in the field, everyone seems to know what they're doing and are capable of making you wish there was a cat 2 race going on!

So by having a quick look at the race bible before the start, it looked like we would be doing a 40km loop, then 16 5km circuits to finish up on. Traditionally, the circuits are always extremely tough in Europe, partly because of the organizer's cruel sense of humor, and partly because there are 120-150 guys who want to kill you. Either way, it makes for lots of suffering, but really good racing when you finally get into the finishing town. With this knowledge, and judging by the really fast pace we set in the first 40km (pretty sure we averaged at least 50km/h), I was pretty convinced the big break that was a little ahead was going to come back on the circuits, so I waited patiently in the shelter of the pack. One thing I noticed right away is how much harder it is to hold a good position in these races, you can't get distracted for a second or 50 guys will go blowing past you and you'll find yourself looking about a kilometer up the road and seeing the front of the pack...not somewhere you want to be!

After what seemed like no time at all we were entering the circuits. This is always a deceptive time of the race, as you think you're almost done. You're getting ready to jettison your still full water bottles to kids in the crowd to lighten up, making sure you've got the jersey zipped up in case of a possible win, and everything else you might do as the race winds down to the end...but then you realize there is still 80km of horrible, painful suffering! Who came up with the idea for this?! Anyway, this circuit was no exception to the general trend of brutally tough laps, with a stiff headwind to start off, then some good road furniture to wreak havoc on the pack, a few chicanes, some good climbing, and then a tight 130 degree turn before a 400m kicker of a climb before the finish. This meant for a lot of accelerations, making it inevitable that the pack was going to split. I got towards the front as quick as possible, because it was clear that people were going to start letting gaps open and there would be groups forming left and right. Thankfully, shortly after I made my way into the first quarter of the pack, there was a big split, and I was on the good end of it. Now we were about 25 guys, and rolling along pretty good, bringing the 30 odd leaders back. When they were at about 30 seconds, with 30-35km to go, things looked really good for it all coming back together. There was a guy who jumped to try to get across the gap on his own, and he was joined by one or two more, but I didn't think it would be smart to waste energy bridging a gap with a small group, since it seemed pretty certain the whole group was going to make it. I sat tight where I was. This proved to be a mistake. Shortly after the trio of riders from our group got out of site, things started to go wrong in our group. It seemed everyone wanted to solo across to the break, instead of just keeping the rhythm we had and everyone making it. This resulted in a bunch of people attacking, then everyone chasing them down and coming to a grinding stop, before another person would jump and we would repeat the process again! Needless to say, this did nothing to bring the gap down to the break. We were so close, but then didn't finish it off.

So, with 15km to go I was contemplating what to do. I toyed with the idea of having one last kick at the can, trying to get up to the break, which was at about a minute. I'm not sure what motivated me to do this, maybe the thought of burning a few extra calories, a good 20 minute power profile, or just to see if I could make up that time over this field, but in the end I decided to stick my nose in the wind and have a go at it. Over the climb that leads to the finish, I attacked into the headwind with 15km to go. I got a good gap and then just set into time trial mode. It was at this point where I was kicking myself for not going across with the group of 3, when the gap was half the size, but it's easy to say that looking back on the situation. In any case, I could see what appeared to be the tail end of the break swooping around a corner not too far up the road, and I thought I could make it in time. The only problem is when I got close enough to see then before disappearing into the corner, what I thought was the tail end was actually the whole group. The break had split into 3, and this was the trailing edge of that original break. So, although I did get across the gap, the race was long gone, so I spun along with these guys for the remaining couple of kilometers and called it a day. I think I finished 34th or something, and being the only Junior in the race was recognized for the "top junior" category that they usually have at these races. So, all in all it was a good day at the office, learned a lot racing with this many talented riders, and had a good time doing it. Next week is back down with in the category I usually race, so we'll see how I do in that after yesterday. Then on April 4th I have a national level junior race which consists of a time trial in the morning and a road race in the afternoon. I can't wait to see how I stack up against some of the guys I'll be seeing later in the spring at the bigger races. Thanks for tuning in!

GP Baranton

I think spring is finally here in Flers. This morning I woke up to the sound of birds chirping, and yesterday was my first day wearing regular, short finger gloves as apposed to lobster claws! (Okay, I didn't really need lobster claws before). I must say, this change in weather has made me one happy guy though, and the racing this week has been going well too.

As the title suggests, we were at the GP Baranton yesterday, which is a town not far from Flers. The course for this race is somewhat deceptive, it doesn't look that tough, but there is also really nowhere to recover, and it sucks the life out of you. As warned by everyone I talked to, it wears you down and by the end it's only the strong guys who can do anything. With this knowledge, I figured the first half of the race I should try to conserve as much as I could. On top of that, I was going into this one with a tough week of training behind me, so the legs were a little flat. They weren't horrible, but did take a little while to get firing on all cylinders. Basically, the combination of trying to conserve energy early, and not having much energy early, meant I watched a big break roll up the road and didn't join them. I knew I would have suffered a lot the whole day by joining them, and if this meant I missed the winning move, that wasn't that big of a deal. Instead, I hung out in the pack trying, somewhat in vain, to stay sheltered.

After a while, the legs started to come around, but at this point the group was well up the road. It didn't look to good to get across to them, but then another large group got the ball rolling. I bought a ticket and boarded the train, quickly distancing ourselves from the rest of the pack. We were cruising, and I could tell from the excitement of everyone in the crowd that this was a good move. Pretty quickly we saw the original escapees in the distance, and a while later we merged into one huge breakaway. I'm not really sure what you would call it actually, since it was almost as big as the main pack! That didn't last too long though, as with only 40km left to race, nobody wanted to sit tight in a "break" of 40-50 guys! Attacks were coming left and right, groups forming, riders cracking: it was complete carnage! It was a big mess of confusion and almost impossible to keep track of what was going on! When things settled down a little and I was able to figure out what had formed, I found myself in the biggest of 4 groups that formed out of the break. There were 2 small groups of 3 guys each in front, then us, and then some stragglers. Soon enough, the 2 groups in front merged, and it was looking good for them. In fact, with a lap to go, I was certain this group was the good one, and not so certain anyone was going to jump across the gap. I decided I might as well try though, so with a last minute kick I jumped out of my group and started to make up some ground. With about 5km to go, I caught on to the leaders, but at this point one of them had gotten off the front, with two of his teammates sitting on the back, and the other three just looking at each other. I was cooked too, and knew we were racing for 2nd at that point. We all still gave a few punches, trying to jump across to the leader, but I think it was more for pride than anything, nobody had any juice left. In the sprint I managed to get 2nd, so that put me in 3rd overall, and best junior. All in all I was really happy with how it went, and can't wait to race again next week!

Lisieux

For yesterday's race we were met with much clearer skies, a little less wind, and even a touch warmer weather, but not much! In any case, it was much more appealing to wake up to and made it far easier to get excited for my second race here in France. This time there were not quite as many riders, but still close to a hundred, and the course seemed very tough. It rode through town for a couple kilometers, and then climbed out of the valley that Lisieux finds itself in for the next 2-3km. This isn't a super steep climb, but throw in a strong headwind and it takes it's toll.

As told by coach Luc, I was to sit in the pack for at least the first little while and work on moving back and forth through the crowded city streets, skills that will come in very handy in a field of 200 juniors through the streets of Italy for the world championships! So, although there were moves going left and right, I steadily worked my way around the peleton, and learned a few tricks for getting moving up.

After a lap of doing this though, it was time to start racing, and with a lead group already well established, I had some catch up to do! Going through town I attacked out of the group and got a gap. Unfortunately, nobody came with me to share the time in the wind, but I was confident I could get across the gap solo, and I set out to do so. I did the climb at a pretty good tempo, never going too far into the red zone, and gradually the gap to the leaders came down. After a pretty solid effort, I was in the group of 6, with a gap of a couple minutes on the pack. We worked well together for the first while, but there were a few who disrupted the rhythm due to fatigue, which made it tough to keep our speed up. With about 40km left we were joined by another group of 8 or 9 riders, and this really messed up the rhythm. Since the race was drawing to an end everyone wanted to hide themselves from the strong wind, and people started skipping pulls left and right. We did however still have a good lead on the pack, so things were still looking good for the finish. The other problem with the new, larger group was that it now contained 4 or 5 teammates. It's awesome to be in a group containing 30% teammates, but only if you're wearing the same jersey as them, and since I'm flying solo in France, this was not a good sign for me! About 20km out the attacks started coming from ES Livarot quartet, and this splintered the group. After the KOM one of the stronger looking riders from this team attacked and got a decent lead on his own. There was a very strong headwind though, and with 15km to go it would be tough to go it alone, so I waited patiently. However, when one of his teammates started bridging and looked like he would make it, I knew it was time to go. I jumped hard out of the group and time trialed up to the duo. Upon catching them I rode past, trying to see who was the stronger one. It was clear that the original escapee filled that role, as he was the only one who could come across to me. I tried to get him to pull through, but he wouldn't have it, and his teammate caught back on.

Knowing I was in a horrible situation, I tried what I could do get rid of the weaker of the two, but they would always come back. Then they started taking their shots at me one at a time. This is probably the worst feeling you could ever experience in cycling. You are in the winning move, but you're alone and there are two guys both working to make you as miserable as possible! I was able to bring them back each time, but all the time I spent chasing, the other spent resting in my draft. When the final 500m kick came, the weaker of the two teammates launched the sprint, and left me and the other guy to duke it out. It looked close for a while, but he edged past me to take the win. I was bummed I couldn't get my first win of the season, but I did pick up the king of the mountains competition and was really pleased with how I felt the whole race. Don't quite have the legs to sprint at this time of the year, but I would be worried if I did. It's far too early to be in peak form, so I'm happy to be right where I am! Thanks for reading!

Ma vie en France

Well it's been almost a week since I got here in France, and race one is already done. It took a little while to settle in to the different culture here, but now that I have things are going great. I'm still feeling the jet lag from spending two nights and two days in airports and planes, but it's starting to wear off and hopefully soon my legs will stop feeling like they have lead weights in them!

There are a few things about the French culture that are going to take some getting used to. For instance, whenever you enter a group setting or see someone you know, you have to shake their hands. Seems logical enough, but when there is a big group it can sometimes take a while! Meals here are also a lot more formal. Lunch and dinner are both 4 course meals, which, although took a bit of getting used to, is kind of nice. Other than that things are just smaller in Europe than at home and far more efficient.

So, on to the racing. Yesterday was the first race of the season here in Normandie in a place called St. Hillaire. The cut off for registration was 180 riders...for a regional race! On top of that, it filled up over a week before race day! The night before as I was getting all my clothes packed I heard on the radio that there would be a rediculous amount of rain, 120km/h winds and possibly hail. Oh boy, I thought, quickly putting the winter riding jacket I brought into my bag! Waking up yesterday morning to the sound of wind and rain confirmed the weather report, it was going to be a day for the hard men! Nonetheless, we packed the car up, put every stitch of clothing on and headed off to the race.

On the short drive there we saw numerous fallen trees and puddles the size of lakes! But still, upon arrival at the race there were riders getting their numbers pinned and legs oiled up with hot balm, the race was going to happen. I too got chamoised up and ready to roll, but it seemed I had far more clothes on than anyone else. These euro guys are tough, that's for sure! I stood on the start line shivering none stop with thermal jerseys, knee warmers, and a toque on, while others around me had nothing but shorts and jersey, with the odd pair of arm warmers and they seemed fine.

Anyway, the race started and there were a few groups go up the road early on. I got in one of them but nothing seemed to be sticking. Then finally one did seem like it would stick, but I missed it. Darn! Oh well, pretty soon thereafter me and another guy in a purple kit started a bridge attempt. We made up a lot of ground which was impressive in all the wind, but when we were about 150 meters back, he sat up. I couldn't believe it! When it was just me battling a head wind upwards of 100km/h, things didn't go so well! The group pulled away and left me to sit up and wait for the pack. No big deal though, still lots of racing left. After trying to recover a bit, which was tough on the hilly/windy course, I made my way back to the front for bridge attempt number two. I attacked on a steep climb and took a few riders with me, then two more small groups joined us and we got the train rolling. I think we were about 12-15 riders strong, and at the start it was going really good. We made up a fair amount of time on the 15 or so leaders in the first 10 or 20km of our attempt. This race was very short though, only 60 odd kms, and time was running out. With about 10km to go the group was fallin apart and it was clear that people were getting tired. Just then, someone attacked and shattered everything. I went with him, as did two others. We hammered, and I mean hammered to the finish and sprinted it out for about 16th spot. I had no legs for the sprint, and only managed to get the better of one guy, taking 3rd. I think that would put me in about 18th spot, but I'm not 100% certain.

After the race my body was so cold I didn't even know what to think. I started laughing at how misserable that race had just been. I had eaten about a pound of road dirt, my face and body were covered in all kinds of various junk, and I couldn't feel my hands or feet. But, as they say here in France, c'est la vie! I got changed and made my way to the cafe to warm up a bit, relatively pleased with my race and looking forward to the next week's edition.

Tucson - finishing up

Well, that went by pretty quick! Our time here at the National Team camp in Tucson has come to an end, but what a finish it had! Since my last post I have ridden up Mt. Lemmon, a 45km climb, two days in a row, and participated in a world famous group ride called the shootout.

The Mt. Lemmon rides were pretty sweet, the first day Dave Boily and I went off and did it on our own while the others hit the coffee shop up for some recovery spinning. We made it about 35km up, but the 3 feet of snow was making us cold and we decided to go back down. The next day we had a follow car with the whole group though, so we could put some more clothes on as we climbed higher. For this climb everyone seemed to want to work a little harder than the past days, so it was certainly a good workout! We started riding at a good tempo,and sped up as the minutes ticked by. After about 25km it was apparanty time to make some selections, and the pulls on the front seemed to get harder and harder. After 30 km the group broke apart into single riders and groups of 2-3. A group of 3 went off the front and got about a couple hundred meters on the rest of the group. After watching them dangle for a while Spence, Antoine and I started a bridge attempt. Quickly our group broke apart and I tried going it solo. I clawed back a lot of ground on the three leaders, but then it stared descending before kicking up to the summit, and then they all just pulled away with me spinning a junior gear. Either way, it was a great workout and I was really happy about where my fitness was.

So today was the really epic day. Some of us decided to hit up the local "shootout" ride. This is a ride that starts with 150 people and rolls through town. Once out of town, it turns into the world championships! This is a crazy ride, with echelons going across both lanes, on open roads! There are mountain bikes, tt bikes, and plenty of super chopping for position. Throw in a rediculous amount of wind today, and an appearance from the legendary Gray Wolf. For those of you who might be skepticle about the legend known as the Gray Wolf, please follow this link for a good laugh! So after he ducked out, the racing started and it was hammer down until the end. Like I said, there was a lot of wind which made for echelons...echelons that took up both lanes of traffic on open roads! After hammering away for about an hour and a half we climbed over a hill that is apparantly the finish, and then it went back to being pretty chill for a bit. Then, racing started again going over Maduro Pass, which is a long false flat section with a steep kicker at the end. So, all in all this is just a big group ride where everyone attacks the hell out of each other and would kill you to take the win, but I think it's something every rider should do before they die, at least once! Thrown a rediculous blinding rain storm into the mix on the ride home and it made for a very epic day on the bike.

After such a great time it is going to be tough to leave, but I'm also looking forward to racing in France. So the next two days are going to be horrible, staying at airports and sleeping on planes, but on Tuesday I'll be in France. Thanks for reading and I'll keep you posted on the racing in euroland!