Rennes Report
Name of Race: Rennes Inline Marathon
Date of Race: May 13, 2007
Location: Rennes, France
Distance: 53km
Series: World Inline Cup, French Inline Cup
Results (link): RESULTS
Report: Ouch.
I am on the train from Rennes to Paris, and it’s a non-stop, and I have a reserved seat, so I am taking the opportunity to write a report on yesterday’s race. I have just enough battery life and the length of this first train to write something decent, though I don’t want to do an injustice to this report since is deserves one better than ‘decent’. I’ll take the chance, and just start writing.Before the race, everything was about wheels. The forecasts predicted, and the morning looked as though rain for the race was certain. Some were on course at 9am to test wheels on the surface in the rain in preparation for the 2pm women’s race, and the 4pm men’s race. It rained off and on throughout the morning, and the course was completely unpredictable. The question was: what wheels would grip in the wet, and what combination roll enough to not slow you down? Some tested wheels during the advanced and fitness race that ran through the entire day, rain or shine. The French take their racing seriously, and the event is run with the weather conditions having no impact on the running of events on time. The race, titled locally as “Rennes sur Roulettes”, ran through the busy streets of the city’s very center, and a large portion of the downtown roads were closed completely to traffic for the entire day, something unheard of for inline skating in Toronto. There were referees wearing all-white jumpsuits riding on the backs of motorcycles just about everywhere, and even more yellow-vested ‘security officials’ lining the course. They were everywhere. This event is huge. One official even physically pushed Wayne off the course during one of the earlier races. Neither party was entirely happy about the altercation.
Immediately before the Women’s WIC race, the sun broke through the clouds and dried the roads almost completely before their start. Many switched to their “dry wheels” that would surely “outroll” the ‘wet’ (grippy) ones, but it was a big risk with the weather remaining in question for the duration of their race. Some were poking their heads around the corners of buildings trying to see just how dark the next approaching cloud was, in order to anticipate the likelihood of rain falling within the next hour. The start of the women’s race remained dry until about 20km left in the 42km race, and with the sudden rain, the pack completely disintegrated. It was clear by who [or rather what wheels] got dropped which wheels were working and which weren’t. The entire Athleticum Rollerblade women’s team was dropped within the first rain lap, all wearing the pink (black hubbed) MPC’s, [I think they were “VT’s”, not “Black Tracks”]. It was interesting to see how abruptly this process weeded out those on certain types of wheels. In the end, it was down to Nicole Begg fighting off the three remaining Sportvital Rollerblade girls, with eventual winner Jena Gegner of Zepto, and 3rd place finisher Hilde Goovaerts of Cado Motus pretty much just sitting in at the back and sometimes middle of the pack. I have to say that I was completely impressed with Nicole attacking almost constantly and still managing to lead out the sprint only to be taken by inches at the line by Gegner. It was an exciting race to watch. The last 5km or so the course dried up quickly, and saw a final sprint on nearly dry pavement. The conditions of the race were like nothing I’ve seen. Dry, wet, dry again, on a tight tricky circuit.
On to the men’s race…
First let me talk about the course. It was a ~3km course that the men would skate 19 times, equaling ~53km. The small circuit included a 180° hairpin turn, a slight downhill tailwind into a 90° right turn (the fastest and most exciting of the course), two tight narrow left 90° turns, followed by an odd 110° degree right onto cobbles with these odd brass bumps sticking out of the stones, a 120° degree left onto the course’s longest straight and downhill with a hard right cross wind off of the river, followed by another 110° left into a very narrow section with a hard left 90° turn into even narrower section of the roughest pavement of the course into a very narrow light right bend into a round about, into a wide open 90° right turn into the wide 400m finish straight with the toughest headwind of the course. Basically, there were a tonne of turns, and out of every turn there was essentially a sprint, very inconsistent pavement, and wind conditions that would surely cause problems for those leading. In short, it was a tough course. You can imagine, with all these turns, rain could become a major factor on a course like this.
…Luckily, the men’s race started off almost completely dry, and the 175 man pack stood at the line with nervous anticipation for what seemed like an eternity while the announcer plowed through a host of introductions that were all ‘very exciting’. The first few laps in the dry were crazy. In the middle of the pack, I could not see the road AT ALL. You could see arms, legs, backs, helmets… but no pavement. I was within a sea of skaters. I found myself watching the skater’s feet nearest me, attempting to avoid a crash similar to the one that ended my race in Lichtenstein. This was not a great strategy, as this found me moving further and further to the back. I decided to stop thinking about not crashing, and instead think about finding a better position. It was weird though, I really had no idea how far back I was in the pack. I couldn’t see the front, or the back as there were and there were plenty of guys ahead of and behind me. I found myself monitoring how things were going by looking to see recognizable guys and familiar team suits around me. I got behind Luca Presti at one point and thought to myself; “well, this guy knows what he’s doing, I’ll follow him for a bit.” He kind of just bounced around behind some guys until a line started moving up quickly on our right, and he just sort of hopped into it effortlessly. Frankly, they opened up a spot for him and his blue and black Bont/Hyper suit as soon as he motioned as though he was going to switch lines. Guys like him have an amount of respect from the other skaters always in reserve. It’s pretty cool to watch. The Italian Bont guys are probably the most noticeable, usually arriving to races wearing these pink and white Bont sweaters with Italian and Australian flags on either shoulder. A little more of that line passed me, and I hopped into a bit of a gap. I was behind Kalon and Peter Michael. As soon as I hopped in, I had this huge shove from behind that sent me into the two of them going into one of the left corners before the cobbles. I found myself apologizing…It was of course unnecessary, but I never like shoving anyone that hard through a corner, in this case, I had no choice. The line was beginning to file into the line to our left, and as we moved up past Pascal Briand on our right, Kalon made what seemed to me a decision to move up before the right turn onto the cobbles. I didn’t match the accel all too well, leaving a gap I thought Pascal would move into, but he didn’t, and guys popped out of the line to my left into the gap in front of me. That happens so fast. I was moving up, but it was completely chaotic. Through the cobbles and onto the downhill straight, I could feel the first few drops of rain coming off the river and trees. The wind at this section was tremendous. I could hear an audible groan coming from the pack as surely they noticed the rain as well, and yet still it was something of a race to the next corner going into the narrow section. Things strung out a bit through the narrow section, and the back of the pack jammed up really hard. I had an alright line going up the middle, and we made it through the round-about still moving up, but as things came back together, the pack saw the largest crash of the race. In the middle, someone went down. The next few went over him, and the next over them and so on. It happened right in front of me, and I went to the left of the first victim, and to the right of the next. There were bodies tumbling over in front of me, and I could see that I had about three to get past before I was out of trouble. I continued going to the right of the carnage, but it was putting me closer and closer to the curb, grass, and trees to the right of the course. The last was falling towards the right, and I had just enough room to put my right foot between his head and the curb, while bringing my left leg over his body. I was happy to not kick him in the face, and to have made it through the crash unscathed. The front of the pack, perhaps realizing how dangerous things were, and perhaps waiting for their fallen teammates a bit, slowed up a bunch. Arms were even raised towards the front to indicate their slowing. That was until the middle of the pack somehow took over the front, and things ‘went back to normal’ and the pace picked back up going into the first prime. The next lap seemed a little more cautious, but the speed remained about the same, maybe faster. What I mean is that there was less movement in the pack, and the corners were taken a little slower, but not by much, and the accelerations were more drawn out. The next lap was for the most part uneventful, until we reached the site of the previous lap’s crash. The already narrow street was full of police bikes, medics, and the a few victims of the crash some still laying on the street. Navigating through this section was yet again challenging. From what I remember, the rain that was until this point a light mist began to pick up and saturate the pavement. This is when the trouble began. As the road became wetter, the pack became even more chaotic. The paint was miserably slippery. Every corner had paint somewhere through its radius, making them all tricky, and made it very difficult to hold your speed, especially towards the back. I found the pack finding something of a rhythm, despite the conditions, and actually found the slower pace in the wet manageable. It was then that I realized that ahead of me the pack was splitting, and I was on the wrong end of the split. I was anxious to be up in the main pack, but looking around, the guys around me were very fine skaters, skaters that frankly I believed to ‘out-rank’ me in the ‘hierarchy’ of pro inline speed skaters. Thinking that surely we would catch the group skating away from us going into the next corner, I tried not to panic. Unfortunately, our pack slowed even more than the guys up front, and the gap suddenly doubled in size. I hopped out of the pack coming out of the corner, and began the process of closing the gap. Leaving the slower moving group behind, I was met by others with the same intent, but all skating with different speeds, lines, cadence, and team skinsuits, no one really grouped up to close the gap. In this erratic mess of disjointed skaters, it was tough to tell who was dropping off the back of the front pack, and who was moving up from the pack I had left. I remember passing Ben Alchin, who regularly kicks my ass on the track in training. I was thinking to myself; “just what the hell is going on here?” I caught the group closest to me, and it was small enough that I could see the front, and couldn’t see any groups beyond us, though I still couldn’t be sure it was the front group. Regardless, this was the pack I would stick with, with no one in sight in front, and the pace already hurting me after the chase. I stayed at the back of this pack as the rain continued to intensify. We took the corners very slowly and cautiously, as the conditions were unbelievably slippery, only to accelerate like mad out of them. This series of accels was killing me, and I found myself never really recovering from the chase up to this group. I would have liked to move up and avoid the bunching, but I was leaving large gaps at the exits of each turn during the accels, and just stuck to the back. After two laps like this, the rain was now falling steadily, and the gaps I was leaving were getting progressively larger. Finally, I was unable to close back up, and I was dropped. After a lap with the pack remaining in sight, the rain became unlike almost anything I’ve skated in before. The only time I can remember skating in conditions like this was in a training roadskate through Belfountain, Ontario [which included Martine Charbaneau, and Momo Morganne Echadour unable to descend one of the hills, knocking on a stranger’s front door to ask for a ride home, Mau Pan Lau, making a quick sit-down [“T-stop, right?”], and Petey Light taking his skates off, jumping into the Credit River, and ‘waving a stick about’.] The rain was falling HARD. I could hear it hitting my helmet in large drops at first, and this was only to disappear into the wooshing droan of the rain hitting everything everywhere all at once. I have to give ‘props’ to Old Kiwi Johnny for being the only one out on the course with his curious brand of cheering/heckling through the worst of the rain. “C’mon skate reccy!”
…I skated by myself for what seemed like 50km+, passing loan and small groups of skaters from time to time, unsure if I was lapping them, or simply passing them, dropped from the group in front of me. At points I swear I was completely stopped through corners. Every corner was a gamble, as the water on the road was so dense you couldn’t see the paint, and there were puddles so deep, you could feel them abruptly slowing your skates. Thankfully, the rain was letting up, and seeing the lap counter in single digits, the rain had stopped, and the pavement was beginning to dry. Eventual winner, Roger Schneider and 2nd place finisher Shane Dobbin came by me. I was happy at the time not to do something stupid, like crash in front of them or get in their way through a corner. It’s funny, here in Europe I find myself apologizing a tonne, and trying not to piss anyone off. I’m not sure if my endeavor to this end has been successful. Anyway, the next to come by me was a rollerblade skater who I drafted for a bit, and through the finish section there were a tonne of people yelling. I wasn’t sure what they hell they were yelling, and not wanting to get dq’d declassed or upset anyone, I let him go. It was the first time I had drafted anyone for what seemed like ages, and though I was skating probably ~5km/hr faster, it was complete relief. I was falling apart, and though the road was drying, I was feeling worse and worse. With three laps to go, I saw a huge pack of skaters behind me as I went through the opposite side of the road after the 180° turnaround. I was pretty sure it was full of every skater I had passed, and perhaps a few that were lapping me. I wasn’t about to wait for them, though I have to say I was tempted. With the road drying, the pack behind me would surely be picking up speed quickly, though them catching me was surely as much to do with me slowing down as anything else. For the next lap, I just tried to keep steady, and hold as much speed as I could through the corners, and stay relaxed. After the turnaround on my second last lap, I could finally see the pack coming behind me, and they caught me on the fast straight into the right corner opposite from the finish. I tried to pick up my speed and get into a spot, but found myself pinched between the pack and the gate to my left. I still had some speed, but still found myself looking to the very back to try and get in. Through the corner, I was at the back trying to accelerate up to the speed of the pack, and was amongst several others trying to do the same. I couldn’t do it. I would spend the last lap and a half by myself frustrated and skating alone yet again, with solo skaters in front of me, with whom I would attempt to keep some pace with. These laps were agony. I couldn’t seem to muster much of any speed, or the motivation to keep skating bent over, and I hobbled around for the remainder of the race, holding only a reasonable amount of speed. My back was hurting worse than I can ever remember. I was in as rough shape as I was after last year’s A2A. My left foot was cramped torturously. It was so tight I didn’t know the muscles had that much strength. I had to employ the help of Arimboh Achu of Washington DC to take my skates off for me. [Thanks Boh, for your help.] I think what frustrates me more than anything is that my result doesn’t reflect how hard I worked through the race. I finished 60th, 6 minutes off the front guys, and losing two minutes to the front, and a full minute to the back, of pack that passed me in my last ~4km. It may be selfish, but it quite honestly frustrates me. I guess there are worse things to worry about. To quote a true pro: “everyone is two ‘ifs’ and a ‘but’ away from winning every race”…It really was a tough race, and that is a serious understatement. I am really looking forward to the Weinfelden WIC marathon. I really, really hope it’s dry; I’m running out of race-able bearings.
-ARA
Oh, here is a pic that might let you know just how wet the conditions were… 