Race Report: Jersey Shore Time Trial

Triathletes competing in USA Cycling events? "Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together…mass hysteria!"

Something like that. When I was putting together my race schedule for 2010, I wanted to take a slightly different path than previous years. Being my fifth year in the sport, I no longer need as many early season tune-ups to get my body ready to race. So why not have a little fun and try something different?

With that thought in mind, I signed up for the Jersey Shore 30k Time Trial, and then spent the next 5 months doing the exact opposite type of training one would typically do to be successful in an anaerobic race against the clock. Of course, this wasn’t an A-race, or even a B-race, so it was more of a learning experience in threshold-pacing. And as it turns out, that type of experience can be quite painful.

Have you ever watched a cycling Grand Tour, and wondered why whenever they pros were riding in the time trials, their faces were contorted into a mixture of fear, pain, snot bubbles, and a pallid shade of death? Sure, they are riding hard…but there has to be some time in there when the cameras aren’t on them, where they take it easy and soft-pedal a bit, right? Uhh…not exactly. The thing about a time trial, is that there is nowhere to hide. If you wanted to do something easy or half-assed, then you wouldn’t be testing yourself, and therefore, you don’t sign up in the first place.

I arrived about an hour before my start time, and my first order of business was to call Matt and Liam to see where they were. When Matt answered, he sounded like he just woken up, but he wasn’t starting until about 30 minutes after me, so I got signed in and went out for a warm-up. The first 3 miles of the 30k course were along the bay, and then the road zig-zagged a bit down into Island Beach State Park for the next 6-7 miles. About halfway through the park was the turn around, and then the course followed the same path back to the finish. During my warm-up, I did as much recon as I could on the first few miles. There was a noticeably sketchy area of potholes about 2 miles in, and I made a mental note of what the right line to take would be. The other overwhelming thing I picked up during the ride was that the wind was directly at our back on the way out, and directly in our faces on the way back. Great.

I got back about 5 minutes before it was my turn to go, and I spent the time watching how the riders in front of me were starting. This was all new, so I paid as much attention as possible…I didn’t want to fall over at the start line, or do something else embarrassing that would brand me as a “triathlete” in front of all these roadies (this included leaving my arm warmers and extra bottle cages in the car). We were spaced out with 30 seconds between each rider. As I stepped up to the line and listened to the starter counting down, I remember the guy holding me up saying “don’t forget to breathe”. 3…2…1…

(Because of the effort I put forth, my memory of the ride is more like a Powerpoint Presentation rather than streaming video; a series of disjointed still images, sounds, and thoughts. Captured chronologically):

Mile 1: this…feels…great! 18.6 miles isn’t that far. I am flying (checks Garmin)…27mph!
Mile 3: watch the potholes…up out of the bars…hard left!
Mile 4: cops are stopping the traffic for us…that’s nice. Hard right into the park.
Mile 5: it smells like rain…I’d say we have about 10 minutes before we get drenched.
Mile 5.5: I was wrong…it is raining…hard. I also just got passed by the guy who started 30 seconds behind me.
Mile 6: the “I feel great” phase is already over 15 minutes into the ride, and I am riding at a much-less-than Herculean 23mph. And fighting to maintain.
Mile 9: I am tired, sore, and snot-streaked. I can see the turn-around about a mile down the road, which means this course is longer than the 18.6 miles as it was advertised.
Mile 11: The headwind has knocked down my average speed from 23mph to 20mph.
Mile 12: The only thing keeping me from demoralization is that I am passing a couple people. Some of them are Under-19 Juniors, but I don’t care. I’m counting scalps.
Mile 15: I can see the police lights in the distance, the turn around must be soon.
Mile 16: it feels like I haven’t gotten any closer to the cop car. Also, my taint is on fire. I should have used more Body Glide.
Mile 18: pothole dodging is a lot harder when you are dead tired and have the reaction time of an 80-year old behind the wheel of a Buick.
Mile 19: I can see the finish line, so I wipe off the snot and do my best to look fast in front of the crowd.
Mile 19.8: I think I crossed the line…right? Shit…did I miss it? Also, why is this course more than a mile further than it should be?


And with that, I collapsed into a heap for 10 minutes in some guy’s front yard, as he stared at me while watering his plants. After I pulled myself together, I made it to the finish line to watch Matt and Liam come across. One of Matt’s aerobars had snapped during the first 1/3rd of his ride, and he still managed to lug it all the way home in a respectable time. All in all, it was a long day in the saddle for a ride that was less than an hour. We capped the morning with a late breakfast at a diner (amazing to find a diner in Jersey, I know) and talked some trash, before heading off to our respective homes. We came, we saw…and we got our asses kicked. Sometimes you need that to keep it in perspective.

Total Distance: 19.6 miles
Final time: 52:58
Avg. speed (per my Garmin, since the course was long) 21.65mph

Cat4/5 place: 33/54
Overall place: 117/184