Weinfelden Report

             It took me a while to get around to writing this report, and in all honesty as much as it may have been due to a lack of significant time to write it, it was due mostly to the fact that I was dreading writing and posting a report that would be nothing but negative; at least in terms of my own performance.  While I suppose that my expectations are high of myself, I don’t think that they are unrealistic.  Weinfelden was not a good race for me, though it very well could have been.  The course suited my strengths; mostly straight, without many turns that would slow the pack down, only to re-accelerate.  The pack was enormous, and we carry those in it all the way to the finish well protected from the wind.  There were hills, but were manageable; or so I thought.  …or so I thought.
             I don’t care what anyone tells you, the start of this race was indeed completely insane.  Some 300 capable pro’s and semi pro’s scattered through the street in nothing short of chaotic butchery.  For the first 3km, there weren’t lines or packs, just staggered bunches of guys moving up or back at widely varying speeds.  They would split in either side of approaching round-abouts, only to merge back together like a flock of birds toying with air currents in the late afternoon. 
The speed towards the front quickly approached 50km/hr as it weeded those that couldn’t hang in over the next 5km, and things began to settle.  There were lines forming, and some rhythm to the peleton.  It may not seem systematic, but there is at least something predictable in the movement of the pack.  Lines were moving up on the left, and back on the right, with a hint of regularity.  Every once in a while a helmet in a line on the right would pop up some, scan right… scan right…. Then bob up and down a few times as it accelerated and began to move up on the right, and those behind would file in behind it, and would they would soon hit the front.  It was spectacular. 
The main road that made up the start/finish approach was only half width, separated by traffic cones lined down the center of the street, one every 50m or so.  As expected, the pro men’s pack observed no such restraint, and took up both lanes, leaving an array of scattered pylons about the road in our wake.  It was incredible.  The 3 foot, 2lb cones were no match for the speed of the some ~300 skates left in the pack by this point, kicking and weaving about the pavement at >40km/hr.  Occasionally, a thud+scraping could be heard from somewhere following a crash.  I remember seeing a dude in black sliding on his belly beside me, decelerating rather quickly.  The highlight, on this section of the course was one of the pylons being kicked up, and flying over my right shoulder as I ducked/wove out of its way.  I felt like a boxer, and laughed to myself at that.  I wonder if it could have knocked me out had it hit me square in the face.  Probably not, but it would have hurt, and surely knock me over.
            The Women, started 2mins ahead of the men (for whatever reason), were caught on this part of the course, adding to the chaos.  Thankfully, they sort of just stayed to the right, as the front of the men’s field flew past.  The disarray at the back of the pack would surely not pass with such ease, but I wasn’t about to find out. 
A right turn, and we hit the ‘loop’ part of the course that was full width.  Things began to relax, and there wasn’t such a rush to get to the front, though the speed of the peleton was actually a little faster with the added room.  There was just a settling in the movement of the pack.  I was beginning to relax myself, and was trying to be conscious about relaxing and skating with a relaxed technique.  Knowing the course, and being aware of the upcoming first significant uphill, I began to make my way to the front, still staying relaxed.  I got behind Wayne a few times…  I got to a spot I thought was good, and got ready for the quick climb.  I was surprised how easy the guys were going up it, and allowed myself to get bunched up a bit behind the guys in front of me.  Almost immediately I realized the guys on my left were flying past us, and over the crest of the hill, the easy pace turned into a sprint as things came back together on the plateau.  I was no longer relaxed, but still in things, and still in the middle of the main pack.  A 90 degree right turn, and a downhill gave me a chance to relax, and we skated over the bridge and down the other side, and a full speed 90degree left turn.  I remember drifting wide to the right at the exit, and worrying about going straight into the tall grass in the field beside the course.  Another uphill, another downhill…

The next thing to worry about was the longest climb of the course, and I knew I couldn’t be too far back at the bottom.  I found a line that was moving up well enough, and thought it would take me at least somewhere close to the front.  Unfortunately, the front picked up the pace, and instead of going to the front, we just started filing in.  I started to move up on the left on my own, and some popped out in front and behind me.  I was on the outside of the right corner going into the uphill, surrounded by some good skaters.  After a short time climbing at a manageable pace, I could see a gap starting to develop a in front of us.  Looking around I saw guys I recognized, and decided not to panic.  I was sitting behind Roman Christian of Athleticum Rollerblade, and decided not to panic.  A few spots ahead was my Teammate Japser Corne, and the size of the gap well in front of us was sizable and concerning.  I hopped out and started to close up.  Others were doing the same in front and behind me.  I was climbing as hard as I could, and the gap was getting smaller, though I was completely red-lining.  I wasn’t in a group.  There were just a bunch of guys in front and behind me doing the same thing.  At this rate, I wasn’t going to close in time before the longest, fastest downhill of the course, and was thinking to myself; this is it.  In a nutshell, this is my race.  This is my ‘final sprint’.  If I don’t close now, my race is over. 

At the crest and plateau of the hill, as the group began to re-accelerate in front of me, the gap was increasing in size.  I was in a strange mix of anger, frustration, grief, self-criticism and self-doubt.  I was indeed dropped from the peleton, on the first f***** lap.  Ouch. 

Down the hill, I gave the impossible a try, and chased; mostly out of frustration.  However, in this situation, I would have to skate at 60km/hr for the next few minutes to catch back up, and that well, was not going to happen.  The guys that I passed on the way up the hill had now gathered back together for the descent, and were behind me.  I continued skating, but the added speed of the group down the hill, and the fact that I was alone brought them to me quickly.  Ha: At least I had a group.  Jasper, who was doing about the same thing I was 50m in front of me was caught a few seconds later.  The peleton was soon out of sight, and I just sat in the group, and led here and there when I felt like it.  It was really easy.  There were no attacks, things were very quiet.  It wasn’t even really racing.  We skated the course at a reasonable speed.  I recognized some of the guys.  Some of them were good skaters.  Team suits of respectable teams.  Tristan Loy was there, and has enormous legs.  With about 5 k to go, Jasper and I got together to discuss what we would do.  He said to me: “I’d rather attack than sprint.”  …I pulled him to the front and slid into the lead as he came by and attacked.  He would stay away.  I just covered the guys that would try to chase, and with me in second, no one wanted to pull too hard to try and chase up, and eventually things settled back down. Into the finish, and I kind of just skated home.  Disappointed. What an understatement. 
I did learn a few things though.  The first thing is that I am just not good or fit enough to take any kind of chances like allowing a gap to open up in front of me.  No matter what.  I have to ‘put the clamp’ on that one.  Admittedly, this is obvious.  The second, and perhaps more insightful thing that I learned was about how I asses things and myself within the pack.  I have a tendency to evaluate myself, how I stand, where I should be in the pack, my performance, my confidence, and assertion(s) and lack thereof relative to who the guys are around me.  I relaxed with a gap opening in front of me simply because I was behind Roman in the pack.  I respect him, granted. I should.  But the ‘problem’ is that I view other skaters as “better” than me, and manifest, observe, and yield to a hierarchy of myself and the other skaters.  I think it is apart of my personality.  The problem is that this system of assessment, and system of belief, is what creates the very problem in the first place.  It is the BELIEF that puts me beneath them, and prevents me from being or becoming better, or at the very least; ‘equal to’ them.  I just can’t put myself under anyone in the totem pole because frankly, I don’t deserve to be.  Sure, I’m no Diego, [or whoever,] but you can’t run around screaming that at everyone with your actions.  I’ll stop doing it from here forward.

On the bright side, Giovanni finished 6^th without any significant help from me, and Wayne finished 14^th.

I really rushed this report, and I am sorry.  But with Zurich tomorrow, I had better post this now.
Aaron.