Capital Region is one of just a few remaining long road races in the Northeast. This year it doubled as the New York State road racing championships. We brought four racers and two extra teammates for feed zone support. It was an epic day out – with the highlight that Dana pulled off the win in the women’s elite field to become the state champion. She recaps the race and the vibe of an excellent weekend with the team here.

The Drive Up

Matt, Scott, and I left the city around 7 the night before to meet the others at our Airbnb upstate, aiming to avoid traffic. That we did – but we paid the price by getting caught in a torrential downpour most of the way up. Growing up in Connecticut, my parents always referred to the Taconic State Parkway as the “Catatonic”, and this drive really reminded me why. I could barely see the lines on the road, it was pitch black, and the rain on the roof was deafening. We also saw an epic lightning storm on the last hour of our drive. But we made it upstate safely, hung out with the rest of the team – Baker, Ben, Matt, and I came to race, and James and Scott heroically came up to support us in the feed zone – and planned out our morning before winding down for the night.

Before the Race

After many 4:00 AM alarms to make it to NYC races on time, the 10:30 start felt positively luxurious. There’s something special about the energy of rolling up to a middle school parking lot in the middle of nowhere and getting ready to race with your friends. You pin your numbers, do your warmup, wait in the porta potty line, maybe question your life choices a bit as you ponder what’s to come. As the sun came out, I could hear sounds of dismay echoing around the parking lot: it was going to be a very hot one out there.

Fortunately for us, Scott and James were absolute saints to come up for the weekend and support us in the feed zone. Soon after our guys set out, they departed for the feed zone armed with several coolers full of bottles, ice, electrolytes and gels. The energy in the feed zone was amazing. It’s not often that amateur racers see many cheering spectators, and on a rough day in the sweltering heat, it can be the extra boost you need to see a teammate out there (bonus points if he has an ice-cold bottle).

The Race

Capital is a good profile for me – hilly, punchy, attritional – and I thought I had a shot at winning this race, so I wanted to do everything I could to work for it. It didn’t play out exactly as I thought it might, though, which made for great racing. I expected a break to form the first time up the main climb, then a smaller selection to make another move the second time up. To my surprise, though, a good chunk of the field stuck together after the first climb – even though I felt like we were working pretty hard. The heat was radiating off the road and it felt like all I could do to avoid getting dropped on the other short, punchy climbs on the circuit. I kept fueling, hydrating, and trying to conserve energy before the next move.

On the second lap, I naively took the bait of a well-set-up attack by a rider from Fount, burning a match right before the second big climb. I then failed to make the front selection going up, but managed to organize two other riders to chase back on. After a couple more attacks, the group sat up a bit. Somehow, the next time I looked back, even more riders had chased back up to us. The front of the race had swelled to 12 or 15 riders, and started to look like it would come down to a sprint. This was definitely not the final I came to this race for – so as the field slowed down, I started looking around to read the race and try to hatch a plan.

I was feeling even more tired and overheated than on the first lap, and again was focused on not getting dropped on the short climbs. But as the race went on, I started to feel my legs still had something left – and I found myself driving the pace on those same little punches. I sensed that even though I felt like I was done for, an egg frying on the hot pavement, the rest of the field felt as least as bad as me. This, I thought, I might be able to work with. I can’t win this sprint, and if I make a move, I might not stay away, but I have to try.

The finish at Capital is a 5-kilometer stretch that branches off the main circuit. Just before the fork – left to the finish, right to the circuit – there is a short, steep riser of about 30 seconds with a little dip in front of it. I went into the dip in second wheel, letting the rider on the front dangle to give myself room, gathered momentum, and attacked hard over the top. I was surprised to find myself away alone, got as aero as I could, and dropped the hammer.

Every time I looked over my shoulder, the field was close enough to scare me, but far enough away that I could believe in the move. I stared at the mileage counter on my head unit, thinking “3 minutes to go, 2 minutes to go, 1 minute to go…” With 200 meters to go I still had the gap and knew I had it, and put in one last big dig to take it over the line. The field sprint came in 1 second behind me.

I was proud to take the state championship title against a stacked field, especially so because I didn’t just do it by having the best legs (lest we forget I got dropped on the climb!), but by having the best move. These lucky moments are rare – but when they work out, they remind you why bike racing is such a beautiful sport.

After the Race

After the race, I got to hang out at the finish for a while to wait for our guys in the elite field to come through. I heard from Scott and James that things had started to get a bit hairy out there – even with diligent feeding and hydration, there’s only so much you can do when you crack in this kind of heat. But I was so proud to see Baker, Ben, and Matt make it to the finish through incredibly tough conditions, and so happy to get to celebrate the win with such wonderful teammates.

Our route home took a slight detour to Hilltown Hot Pies, owned and operated by a great friend of TBD, Rafi Bildner. We finished the day with some beers, incredible pizza, and recovery cornhole in the beautiful Berkshire woods. I can think of no better way to round out a hard day on the bike. Whether it’s your best day or worst day out on the bike, it’s the hang that makes the weekend.