The first event to be contested was the 4-km Individual Pursuit.  This event demands precise pacing and an ability to push through constantly intensifying pain that culminates in complete exhaustion in the approximately 5 short minutes the race lasts. I had the goal of completing the race in just under 5 minutes, but when I woke in the morning to 15 mph wind gusts, I knew that was very unlikely. I was pleasantly surprised then to stop the clock in 5:04 on race day, setting a personal best in extremely windy conditions.  This was merely seconds off my goal of sub 5 minutes, thus netting the bronze podium spot. I contested two events the following and final day of Track Nationals, both of which are personal favorites. The Kilometer is said to be the most painful race on a bike.  Lasting just over 1-minute, it is a 110% sprint from the word go and generally ends with the rider crossing the finish line incapable of applying force to the pedals let alone formulating a single thought. With heavy legs from racing the day before, I lit the afterburners and was quickly at record breaking speeds.  Alas my tired legs could go only so hard for so long.  As I limped my way around the track in the final 150-meters, I crossed the line a few tenths of  second slower then the US record for my disability. Adding to my medal count for the year my time was good for the bronze medal.

My final 2010 National Championship race was the crowd favorite, the Team Sprint. The Team Sprint consists of three riders on a team racing together in order to complete 3 laps on the track as fast as they can. My team was most certainly the team to beat and we did not disappoint, logging the fastest time of the day by over 5 seconds. In fitting fashion I concluded my National Championship racing on the top podium step with two of my teammates, as we slid on the National Champion Jerseys signifying we were the best in the business.

In 2010, I have contested 6 different National Championship races, representing a cross-section of cycling disciplines, as wide as the Montana winter is long. In doing so I have had the honor to climb the podium steps all six times, 3 of those trips to be crowned a National Champion, without a doubt this is my best season to date.

Next stop on the calendar is the Para-cycling Road World Championship in Quebec, Canada.

On the walk back to the “para house” Sara snapped me back to race mode, asking how I expected the criterium to go. While I felt very confident in my ability to win the race, I did not want to take for granted the potential of the other racers and all the hard work I knew they had done to be at their best. Clearly, after the road race I would be heavily marked.  Consequently, my objective was to assume control of the pace:  tactfully riding at the front when I wanted to, while letting others do the work when I did not. 

Just prior to Amelia’s afternoon nap, Sara and I rolled the Kavy mobile down to the start line and set up base camp at the Start/Finish. With 2 hours before the start, I casually went about prepping my bike and myself for the day’s task. An hour out, I began rolling around the neighborhood to loosen my legs up, clear my mind, and begin visualizing my perfect race. Thirty minutes out is game-time in my criterium book.  Given the high-speed sprint-heavy nature of crit racing, there is no time for easing into the race once the gun goes off.  Because we were the first race of the day, I was able to spend the final 30 minutes rolling the course memorizing each corner.  Logging away in my mind how hard I could push the speed through the apexes; noting at what speed I could pedal through the corners; where would an attack be the most explosive; finally where was I most vulnerable? I quickly swung by the van for a final swig of water and a Hammer gel shot.  A few hot laps on the course testing the technical spots at full speed found me on the start line. Thirty minutes earlier I was a cold engine groaning at that first application of the gas pedal.  But now, the heat that radiated from within my legs was ticking and pinging like that of a race car’s engine.  Fuel lines were charged and I was teaming with excitement to bury the gas pedal to the floor.

I wanted to take control of the race in the first 100 meters before we hit two hard-right-hand turns. In order to make sure I was first to the corners I chose the outside lane on the start line, giving me the most direct path into the first corner.  However, the big key was a flawless click into my pedals before hitting the gas full tilt.

Up and out of the saddle as we exited the second hard right, I twisted the throttle making sure no one could come around me.  In seconds we would be diving into the most technical portion of the coarse consisting of a 90-deg left into short downhill 90-deg right immediately followed by a 90-deg right on to a narrowing steep up hill. Once over the rise it was a series of soft rights onto the home stretch. I kept this quickened pace on the front for the first two laps before sliding off the front and allowing the other riders to take their turns on the front. Two more laps down, it was back to the front, pushing the pace feeling out the other riders’ abilities to charge the technical spots on the coarse.  

Heidi Swift

A great aspect of crit racing is how spectator friendly they are. It was nice to see the neighborhood turning out to watch and cheer us on as we weaved our way through the streets. With each lap you could feel the fans cheering and encouragement boosting the race speed while deepening my hunger to win.

Heidi Swift

I knew in my mind that if I could keep the race together until the final home straight sprint, my chances to win were very good. However, I also knew the chance of getting caught up in a wreck or having a mechanical in a mad gallop for the finish was not only risky, but could have a lasting impact on my ability to race the time trial the next day. Crossing through the finish with 4 laps to go, I began the final chapter of my race. Having ridden on the front for the bulk of the race it was time to position myself in the pack to help conceal my ultimate attack on the field. As we slid through the first right hander after the finish line, I purposely drifted wide, forcing the rider behind me into the lead against his will. I quickly tucked in behind him and diligently followed his every move as he attempted to shake his way off the front. As if exclaiming his disapproval with being on the front, the other rider eased off the gas as we slowed to our lowest speeds of the race. Unfortunately for him, he was right where I wanted him, doing just what I had expected he would do.  Back under the finishing banner rolling at a sightseers pace the riders around me appeared to be resting for the looming finish line sprint.

As the other rider led the pack through the second right of the course, I made my move.  With a quick flick of the wheel I dove inside and went full gas. My heart leapt through my chest as my front wheel broke loose skidding sideways as if I was on washboard gravel roads.  Then, as if it had never happened, my tire hooked up and I was off. For 12 laps I had been prepping for this moment.  One bike length grew to two, then three, as I exploded into the pedals. Having tested my limits through the technical portion of the course earlier in the day, I now precisely dove through each corner sprinting up and out of the saddle when I could.

Heidi Swift

One lap down with two to go I was up 5 seconds on the chasers.  With each corner and screaming encouragement, my energy level soared as did my lead.  With two laps down and the final lap bell ringing in my ear I glanced back between my legs to monitor my gap…I was a comfortable 10 seconds up in full control of the race.  Knowing the only thing standing between me and my second National Championship title in two days was a crash, I eased up on the corners and began taking in the sweetness of my surroundings. As I pulled onto the long finishing straight I glanced back one last time.  Nothing was behind me…I zipped my jersey…looked into the crowd to find Sara and coasted across with arms raised high.

 The road race was scheduled to be 55km meaning we would do 10 laps of the outer course before heading back into the finish. My game plan was to do my best to keep the pace stiff when I was vulnerable to attacks and then lead the group through the technical portions. As the laps ticked by my legs felt good and I was comfortably playing out my game plan, the next step was to push the pace and throw in a soft attack to see how the group would respond.

As we cruised through a particular rolling portion of the course I put in a short dig quickly opening up a small gap, as I was only trying to feel out the group and with over 20 km of racing to go I was content to let the group catch me after a quick dig. With this new information I began accessing how I wanted to play out my bid for the win.

I had decided that on the final circuit lap I was going to hit the gas pretty hard just before toping out on the steepest pitch of the race in hopes of drawing out a select group that could then work together until the closing couple kilometers and then make a solo push as we raced back to the finish line…and then it all changed. As we came racing into the round-a-bout that diverted us on to another lap the race officials was pointing for us to head home a lap early. Suddenly, there I was in the lead heavily marked with the entire lead group intact and a few short minutes from the finishing stretch.

In general one of the worst places to attack a group from is at the front because everyone can see what you are doing. As we rolled in the final kilometers my head was awash in the best tactic to play. I tried to slide back in the group but everyone would just slow completely content on letting me make the first move.

Rolling through the 1-km banner I prepared myself to make my attack from the front and then I heard it…Justin Wess, an unknown rider to me, jumped. Immediately, I punched my lead out ticket and grabbed his wheel as he slid by me on the left.  With the pace picking up I was able to grab a few more gears and get into the sweet spot of my gearing for the sprint. Justin began to slow at 500-meters, something I had anticipated as 1-km out is a long way to go full gas, with a 90-deg right hander looming ahead 150 meters before the finish I pounced leaping past a deflated Justin. In the matter of a few calculated revolutions of the pedals I was free and clear of the group…carving through the right hander I was up and out of the saddle sprinting to full speed. With the finish in full view, Sara screaming on the sideline I slipped a look between my legs to check my gap…I was free and clear with plenty of time to sit up coasting across the line arm raised…Happy Birthday Amelia.

The maiden voyage in the Sprinter was entirely utility in getting the vehicle back to Bozeman in time for our departure to Bend, OR for the 2010 US Cycling Road National Championships. Two things that were evident in this first trip in the new ride were that the Sprinter was the perfect family ticket to destinations unknown and that Texas is crazy big and I must admit bit boring. Thanks to a brief pause in Denver to catch up with Dallas and Josh as well as log some miles on the dirt the trip was bearable.

Back in Bozeman for the mad scramble to kit out the Sprinter began. Packing and repacking became a daily norm as we stuffed it with necessities, and possibly a few kitchen sinks, for 2 weeks on the road. In total we managed to fit in Amelia’s haul of equipement, hiking gear, all my race gear including two bikes, and alas the family while still managing to see out that back window. The Sprinter can swallow some gear which I must admit post trip is a bit overwhelming when it comes to unloading it all. The itinerary for our trip would include a stop in the Seattle area to visit family and do a little work and then move on to the coast via the Olympic Pennisula for some family fun and exploring while I polished of my training for Nationals, our ulimate destination in Bend, OR.

Nationals would conclude my 2010 bid to be selected to the US Para-cycling World Championship Team as well as an attempt to be crowned a National Champion. I was registered to contest 3 different events: The road race on 6/22, the criterium on 6/23 and the TT on 6/25.

Departing on 6/10 we made our push to Seattle/Bainbridge celebrating, my cousin, Jackson’s graduation from high school and my sister’s pending wedding with a shower. With 4 days of RV’ing under our belts in the safety of my uncle’s driveway we shoved off for the unknown and a little boondocking. We first stayed at Crescent Lake in Olympic National Park were Amelia tasted were first pine cone and some good old dirt. Then it was off to the Hoh River Rainforest were Sara packed a sleeping Amelia on an 8 mile hiking journey of the river valley ala Kavy style adorned in shorts and Chaco’s as the suburbanites decked in REI purchases scoffed at our preparedness. 

We closed our time in the Olympic National Park with a brilliant night perched above the Pacific Ocean. Sara and I relished in the fresh air and sense of adventure; completely removed from cell phones, internet and outside distractions.  

Not forgetting about racing I slipped away for a few rides along the cost adhering to my detailed training plan of alternating hard days with easy days. Amelia was as sweet as ever adjusting to life in the Sprinter with little complaint.  These few days of just the three of us were just what we had hoped for allowing us to reconnect as a family and enjoy some of the finer things this life affords us.

As our route led us closer to Bend we stopped off in Cannon Beach, OR to join friends in the 47^th Annual Sand Castle competition. Despite being complete amateurs, our team of builders managed to impress the judges with our recreation of JAWS capturing the “I can’t believe Sand can do that” award.

Sunday, June 20^th broke a bit soggy in Cannon Beach as we embarked on our final push from the coast inland to Bend, OR. Hours later having climbed to the high desert of Eastern Cascades we pulled the Sprinter into the Para-cycling headquarters for the National Championships. Sara quickly busied herself in her new roll of Team Mom, cooking team meals, shopping, and generally keeping us all on task for racing. I joked once before that when I was first invited to race the World Championship in 2006 I thought the invite was for Sara because of how much work she did for the racers. As always her impeccable planning, organization and general commitment to me and the rest of the team could not be overstated in helping us all arrive on race day in peak form.

In the days leading up to racing we previewed the various race venues. The road race was going to utilize a lollipop route that included 5 km circuit offering a few punchy climbs that would total nearly 1000 feet of climbing over the duration of the race. The climbs came early on in the circuit loop and were short and punchy in nature lasting no more than a minute or two, with the final climb immediately followed by a fast downhill in to a sweeping left hander which made for a good adrenalin rush. As for the TT it was an out and back coarse 24km in length that demanded the rider tackle 600+ feet of climbing on the way out. The beginning of the coarse was on newly  paved roads but shortly after the climb started the surface diminished to typical mountain road pavement, that is to say it was rough, bumpy, and riddled with potholes. My initial impressions were the coarse was going to be a big test not only in fitness but bike handling especially on the way back when speeds would exceed 40 mph in the aero bars. The criterium coarse was set in the Northwest Crossings neighborhood of Bend consisting of a short and tight turn filled 1-km loop on new pavement, making it a great venue not only to watch but also to race.

As race day neared anticipation was high in the house with each athlete actively resting in peak form ready for the gun to go off. Each of us had arrived here in hopes of being selected for the 2010 World Championship Team as well as a desire to walk away National Champions. Competition would be high over the next few days.

Due to the rain racing this past weekend in Spain was a bit crazy at times with several crashes taking place through out the weekend as riders played the game of risk. The first stage of the race in Spain was a time trial that started with a short up hill stretch followed by a super fast twisty downhill before turning around and racing back up to the top. As the starting line judge counted down from 10-sec to my start the heavens opened up and began unloading all they had on the roads I was about to race my 20mm wide inflated to 160-psi racing slicks down. Saying I was bit nervous would have been and understatement but racing is racing. Tentative as I was on the downhill I made my legs burn on the uphill stopping the lock 24 sec off the lead putting me comfortably in 2nd place for the overall.

By the time the 2nd stage time trial rolled around things had dried out and the coarse was primed for fast times. The start  order of the afternoon TT  had me being chased by the winner of the days earlier time trial.  I would also be chasing 3rd place leaving me plenty motivated to get out to a good pace. On ”GO” I was quick to get up thing rolling but eased into full speed in order to prevent myself from blowing up in the first few kilometers. As time began to tick by I felt myself becoming more confident in my strength and consequently I dug deeper as if I was being fueled by the burning I was feeling in my legs. By the half way mark I had caught the 3rd place rider whom had started 30 seconds in front of me, and again I twisted the throttle. As I came speeding through town to the finish line I was pedaling on fumes but also feeling pretty good about my effort. Turns out I was not just feeling like I was riding well; I was indeed rolling fast. Once the final riders finished my coach confirmed I had won the TT for my category but I had also set the fastest time of the day on the coarse for single bikes. Combing the times from the first two stages I was 2nd in the general classification a mere 8-seconds out of 1st.

Eight seconds seems like a short time on the surface but when their are 15+ Spanish riders and one of them is beating you by only 8-seconds those become long/hard seconds to overcome. Sunday was the road race and on que the rain began in full tilt 30 minutes before the start of the race. As we rolled out of town a pack of 80+ plus riders the number one question was not are there going to be crashes rather when and who….and it did not take long. By the time we had completed the first of five laps there had been two crashes and several avoided in the group, hence there was only one safe place to ride the front of the race. Fortunately for me I had no choice, I had to be on the front in order to cover the endless attacks from the Spanish as they tried to unseat me from 2nd place, I was a marked rider to say the least. Try as the Spanish did,  I bridged and covered each attack despite the fatigue building in my legs and as if putting salt in my own wounds I attacked over the final climb 3-km from the finish.  Marking my last  hope of gaining back the 8-seconds I needed to win the general classification. I was able to get a gap over the final climb only to have it pulled back by the Spanish Armada in the final 500 meters. With my tank on empty and my legs cement heavy I sprinted for the finish but could only muster a 4th place.

As the rain slowed, I was left gasping for air having secured my 2nd place overall. Not a bad start to the year I would say…racing begins Friday here in France with another stage race.

I will keep you all posted once I recover from the oxygen debt I will soon be in.  Ohh and there are pics for proof but I have yet to receive them from my teammates.

Unfortunately, I did not call the race organizer ahead of time to inform them I was bring Montana’s winter with me  thus many riders were a bit unprepared in this desert oasis. Consequently, Saturday’s afternoon crit was canceled after a rider was knocked off his bike by a tumbleweed collision aided by 60+ mph wind gusts and the waves of snow…maybe that was not exactly due to being unprepared after all. Having been caught on a few to many occasions in those conditions while training this year I was not to disappointed to have my race canceled.

Sunday’s road race was greeted with clear skies but 20+ mph constant wind and a pretty cold start temperature. The wind would prove cagey when it came to ever turning it into a tailwind, like any good headwind it seemed to always be a step ahead of us. As we lined up for the neutral roll out of the race it was pretty evident most racers had wondered why they were letting the handicap guy ride with the group. I over heard one guy mention to his riding buddy that he would be surprised if I made it the first couple of miles…I will admit I was a bit  nervous at the start because I did not know any of the racers but I was pretty sure I would make it past the first couple of miles.  Not being in the race to get a result, my objective was all about riding myself deep in to the pain cave…and deep I went.  Over the first two major climbs I punched it with a front group of 15 shooting half the pack out the back then while rotating on the front and getting blocked from responding to an attack  I chased for nearly 20 miles solo, eventually I made it back to a few chasers and dragged the group to the top of the final 8 mile climb weeding the group down to 3 before suffering a mechanical in the final minutes of the race.  As I reflected on the depth in which I had explored the pain cave I was encouraged by the fact I had logged some peak power records, I had opened some eyes to what is possible as an adaptive athlete, but deep down the most satisfaction came in the early miles of the race when I dropped the rider that had doubted out loud that I could finish.

Despite the weather hiccups the race was run exceptionaly well and the coarses were made for great venues, I hope to be back.

Following the race I had just enough time to get cleaned up unload the car at a home we had rented with friends for the following week and then pick my ladies up at the St. George airport to begin our week of family fun…more on that later

Sticking with tradition, I was joined by my fellow Gimp Dino, a little friend we found in one of our campsites during a past trip.

Saint George sits some 750 miles south of Bozeman and while I was initially determined to make the drive in one big push I folded when I stumbled on to an Amazing camping spot in Cedar City, Utah 50 miles short of St. George. At midnight I pulled in to Camp Walmart a glow as if the heavens above where shining on the beauty of this find, or maybe it was the hundred parking lot lights blazing. None the less I nestled in with the other Camp Walmart faithfuls in the darkest part of the parking lot and began shuttling gear to the driver and passenger seats carving out a nest in the back of the car.

Nestled in amongst my bikes and misc. Amelia gear I was quickly reacquainted with the fact I am just a hair to tall to layout completely in the back of the Subaru. I as to tired from shuttling gear to care at this point so in the sleeping bag I slid and light out is was….well that is until I placed my head on the pillow. Despite carefully trying to isolate myself from being in the direct path of the parking lot lights I had made one critical mistake I never looked out the back window while laying down to see if the roof of the car was indeed blocking out the light.

As you can see I had in fact conveniently parked so that not one, but four laser beams were directly in my line of sight. Knowing that if I got out to reposition the car I would likely just start driving again, and indeed I was getting tired I wiggled my way on to my side and tried to block out the hum of the surrounding diesel generators of my far more superior RVing neighbors.

Something to note, sleeping bags loose all there insulating abilities when one is pressed hard against cold plastic in which case my right foot and back pushed up against the door were rendered a tad cold for most of the night.  Alas sleep came and while a bit restless it was not until the large Diesel Truck swung through my camping spot at 6:15  that I completely woke up. Thoroughly, chilled and aware of a Starbucks in the opposite corner of the parking lot I lumbered out of my humble home to the 13 degree morning and set about reshuffling the gear.

The frost on the car would confirm that shorts were probably not the appropriate attire for the current conditions.

Caffeinated and the gas tank topped off we were back on the road. After a quick 2000 foot descent in to St. George I was at last in the desert basking in the a beautiful sunny morning with the temps rapidly climbing to the mid 60’s.

I spent the day pre-riding the TT coarse as well as the last 30 miles of the road race coarse which includes a solid 7.5 mile climb near the finish that could be my undoing. Below is a picture from the road race start/finish not a bad view to see while coming out of pain cave.

Now I lay in my $39.00 5 star motel bed prepped for tomorrow’s TT and Crit looking forward to 2010 Race Day #1. Reminds me of my college days…nothing like some good old bottom feeding to kick off a great season.

Now a sane person would suggest that we simply ask the individual how off-season and subsequent preseason training is going, but it is the competitor in us all that would prefer to find out in a series of challenges we like to call throwing down or drilling it or…. in short each person takes their swing at going as hard and fast as they can in hopes of dropping the others. What this all amounts to is little in regards to answers and/or conclusion on one off season..no no it generally just leads to an all inclusive trip to the pain room rendering each and every one of us thoroughly burnt toast.  Two days down just shy of 120 miles logged,  many of them at all out race pace, and four more out in front of us I imagine burnt toast will be putting it lightly. 

All of rides start with a 25 to 30 minute decent from Alpine, CA at 35mph  and end with an hour or so climb at 8 mph. Yesterday was a bit cold particularly on the downhills which there were plenty of because there was plenty of uphill climbs. Today, was a perfect Southern California day and what lacked for in number of climbs we made up for in length, grade and intensity.

As it sits right now I must say I feel pretty good about my climbing. While I enjoy climbing I have never been considers a good nor particularly strong climber. In the past, I have not been able to really consider getting over the top of the big climbs with the front group but all that is changing. Yesterday, I hung with the front group on all but the steepest grades and even then I was only hanging a few seconds off the back. Today, the legs were a bit heavy and the climbs had a little more meat to them but again I managed to hang and even did some time on the sharp point of the stick. So, it can be said that I am pleased at the improvements and performance this early in the season. Now with that said I still can not say I am climber nor that there is not tons of room for improvement. But I do know the road I am on is the right track, a track that rewards hard work and digging deep.

I am excited for what the next few days hold. I have a good feeling about this year…the journey continues.