THE RACE REPORT: From W&D/NYC Velo Rider Gordon Daniell

Floyd Bennett Field/Individual Time Trial – “Cannibal” Edition – Sunday June 10:

After having a four year lay-off from TT (time trial) racing, I couldn’t resist the tasty wafel of a race offering that the boys of the CRCA (Century Road Club Association) served up. So, off to FBF for the second week in a row I went, enjoying the idea that if you hit Brooklyn’s Flatbush Avenue early enough in the morning, the amount of traffic is limited and there’s less chance of being run down by a pimped-out church van. I did see one car accident though, so the trip was not totally uneventful.
The race itself was, as many races have been this season, a learning experience. I learned that I am not Eddy Merckx, yet. I got all lined up, mostly to find out that I was without the benefit of my 1-minute-man. This would be fun.

 

For those unaware of the “Cannibal” style concept, it means that you race the TT on your regular road bike. If the organizers do it right, it also means no aero wheels, no aero bars, no skinsuits and no shoe covers. Here, 303 depth wheels were allowed, as were skinsuits and whatever else. Holding true to the “Cannibal” style, I ran my regular bike, a front Mavic Ksyrium wheel, and a rear Mavic Classics SSC wheel – a box-section wheel so old that not only does Mavic not make it anymore but they threw out all of the spare parts 3 years ago. I was prepared to slice through the wind like a cold knife through frozen butter.
I got off the start line and hit the jets. I kept the throttle open, expecting pain and receiving a heaping helping; more, in fact, than I had bargained for. FBF is tough to race in a field of riders, and tougher to race Cannibal style, since it’s nearly too bumpy to rest the wrists on the top of the bars. However, I soldiered gamely on for king and country (which is what I would imagine Paul Yeates of the Rockstar Games Team might say if he were reading the phrase from a teleprompter). I tried to build speed as I went. That didn’t work, so I tried to keep going. That was a limited success, so I just tried to keep it upright and finish strong. That turned out well. Or so I thought. The final results had me, unfortunately, way down in the field. However, a brief review of my Garmin suggests that I may have gone a minute faster than scored. I didn’t sweat the decision though, because to do so would have been to argue that I was not at the back of the field, but in the middle of it…kind of like arguing that no, the letter grade you got in Algebra wasn’t a D-, it was a C-…not really worth it.

 

Next week, more Prospect Park fun, coupled with a throwdown in Harlem.