Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Ice Weasels Cometh Promotion Report

In 2008 I put on my first bike race and talked about how much more work it was than I thought and how it was awesome.

In 2009 I wrote about how I thought the second year would be easier but it wasn't.

In 2010, we added a flyover, I lost the numbers, it got bigger, and it was even more work.

In 2011 we built a bunch of new sections and I was so exhausted it "almost wasn't worth lining up."

In 2012 we bought a flyover, spent a whole day cutting a new trail, and dropped USAC sanctioning.  I was so tired I got lapped in the race.

In 2013, we LOST THE VENUE 3 weeks before the race and basically all of New England helped me put a race together.  I was so cracked by race day, I didn't even race.

If programmers are good at pattern recognition, then how come I didn't see 2014 coming?

We set a new bar for insanity that I hope I will finally fail to clear in 2015:  with less than 48 hours until the start of the event, we lost the venue.

A midweek nor'easter blasted Boston with buckets of rain, and the North Shore even more, and at the epicenter of the North Shore rainfall was Rowley, Massachusetts, where our race was supposed to be.

That pink spot north of Boston is my venue.

Still though, the race was on a hill.  I knew it was going to be wet, but I thought we had some options.  The landowner called me and said it was a mess.  "We'll figure something out when I get there Thursday" was the plan.

This pond near the top of the hill was so full it was actively overflowing down the hillside, 36 hours after the rain stopped.

When I got there, the "plan" turned into "let's talk about canceling the race."  The road down to the parking area was completely washed out, I had to park my car at the top of hill.  The parking area itself squished audibly as you walked around it.  While the landowner didn't tell me I had to cancel, he looked me square in the eye and made it clear that I'd be footing the bill to repair the damage that 400 parked/stuck cars did down there.

We talked about other places to park.  There closest place you could put 400 cars was a mile away.  For a price.  I thought about 500 muddy, shivering cyclists, a mile from their cars.

I told Thom we had to cancel or postpone it.

Thom reminded me he was having a significant surgical operation on Monday, so if we postponed it, I was on my own.

I accepted canceling the race.

Before we gave up and drove home, Thom sent a Facebook message to Chris Nichols, who was "the guy" at Diamond Hill Park in Rhode Island.  We'd talked about checking out Diamond Hill as a venue a few months prior, but nothing ever came of it.  Since then, we'd established a contact with someone who knew the right people -- Chris.

Chris started making phone calls.  Thom and I started driving to Rhode Island.  Whatever, it was worth a shot.

We got there at 3pm.  Thom had described the place to me as "small and rocky."  I wasn't expecting much.

Five minutes into walking around the place I had completely changed my mind.  It might have been small, but it was just big enough.  I made up a course, rode it, made some tweaks, rode it again.  1.6 miles and totally decent.  It was 3:45.  Most offices closed in 75 minutes.  We started making phone calls.

The insurance company re-wrote our policy for Rhode Island.

The portapotties from Rowley got un-canceled and rerouted to Cumberland.

I started hunting for EMTs in Rhode Island.

I redirected neutral support to the new venue.  Thom booked one of our old food trucks (Mijo's tacos) from Providence.

The only problem was that we didn't have permission to use the venue.  We had a guy who said "it will probably be fine, go ahead with the race."  We sent a proposal to the mayor, but were assured it was a formality.

The response I got from the mayor did NOT sound like it was just a formality.  I sent him our insurance policy, changed the race location in BikeReg, emailed 600 preregistrants, and crossed my fingers.

We never did get permission...  

But somehow we put on the best fucking race I've ever been involved with.

Everyone who helped us build course Friday, everyone who helped clean up Saturday, everyone who brought me food on Satuday, everyone who dropped whatever they were doing to course marshal, move a timing tent, or do whatever else we needed -- THANK. YOU.  

Oh yeah.  That timing tent move.  

There's always a bit of a learning curve with a new course and a new venue.  I spent much of the beginner race running around, adding course crossings as I saw how the traffic flowed around the park, and how many people were ducking tape to get to various places.  I got back to the timing tent just in time to help Christin score the last lap.

It was the worst job we've ever done scoring.  Between the speed of riders crossing the line, the bend in the course, and the fact that venue layout made it really easy to preride THROUGH the finish line, we had more missed reads and false reads than the past two Ice Weasels combined.  It was BAD.  

We put the next race on hold, grabbed four people, and started relocating the finish line.

Five minutes later, we realized the new location had no way to stake the tent.  A light breeze threatened to blow the tent away immediately.  We started ripping the walls off it.  The sun streamed in, and now we couldn't see the screen.  The whole time, there's a horde of Killer B masters just waiting for their delayed race to start.   I have never felt such an acute, terrifying pressure in my life.

Thank god for Christin, who took the whole thing in stride and jumped right into scoring the next race on a screen she could barely see, with me holding the tent down every time the wind blew.

That was the only moment I thought the whole house of cards might come crumbling down.  When the beginner results turned out to be mostly right (thank god for CrossMgr), I started breathing again, and the rest of the day was AWESOME.

All the following pictures are by Meg McMahon, official event photographer.  Thanks for reading.

Adam St. Germain drove 4 hours to win a hard-fought men's race.

Seriously, this was the best Ice Weasels race to watch yet.  Jerome led early, flatted, and hit the last lap just five seconds off the leaders.  Adam and Joe rode the whole lap flat out to hold Jerome off, with Adam narrowly taking the win.

Meanwhile, at the other end of seriousness, Russ Campbell had the most impressive cyclocross costume I've ever seen.

No free beer (town park!) meant a lot more food handups.  I was okay with that.  Here Uri Halevi fails to keep kosher.

Mo did what Mo does:  crush the women's elite race and then crush the women's (and most of the men's) singlespeed field.

Meanwhile, her husband Matt raced his first cx race since 2006 in a Breaking Bad costume, complete with baggies of fake (I think) drugs to throw into the crowd.

A common misconception is that Ice Weasels is a party race.  There's plenty of people who race first, party second, and that's exactly how I want it to be.

Chris Nichols jumped into the men's elite race on a mountain bike, without a number.  But he got us the venue so he can do anything he wants!

Fat Bike Cyclocross:  So wrong it's right.

Chris and Paul of ECV have helped us a lot over the years.  Paul's punishment for not making this year's race is having to look at this picture of Chris having fun.

JRA Cycles sponsored the race and designed the jump.  Since they're serious effing bike riders, it was a serious effing jump.  Here, shop owner Brian McInnis proves he has less fear than I do.
  Jump designer and shop employee Will makes getting rad look easy.  It wasn't.
See what I mean?  This is why we have an EMT.

The wind was blowing the lap cards around.  Dan Walker held them in place for a few laps while I figured out a solution.

The first time I've ever wished we had a finish camera.  I called this sprint for Alex (on the right), but if it had been for first place, I'd have put them both on the top step.
Last year, Vickie's angel costume went viral, with over a hundred shares and a thousand likes on Facebook.  This year we had four angels.
This year's viral photo:  Sean Goguen endo'ing on Dan Barrett's custom "how to hop" barriers.  Kid shoulda read the instructions.
I could look at smiling faces on podiums all day and never get sick of it.
This woman is the secret ingredient that makes the whole thing work and I love her.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Rules are Hard Part 2: 2013-2014 UCI Elite Race Times, now with real data

Look at this, three blog posts in a week when I should instead be planning a bike race!  It's like 2009 over here!

After Tuesday's post about 2014 UCI Race Lengths, and the conclusion "men's races have gotten noticeably longer even though the rules haven't changed," I was rightfully called out for not using 2013 race lengths as a control group.

So, I started digging up that data, which got Matt interested again, which led to Matt making a really nice spreadsheet summarizing everything.

Here is the "real" 2014 data, which is a bit different than what was tweeted.  The initial data came from "the UCI calendar as far as we knew it" and this data comes from "the UCI results that were reported to the UCI."  

The women's race has been sub-40 five times in 35 events (14%) and the men's race has been sub-60 seven times (20%).

If we assume a women's race with a winning time of 39:XX is actually close enough to a 40 minute race to be within the spirit of the rule (if not the letter of it) then there have only been three incorrectly run women's races this year:

HPCX Day 2 (0:38:20)
Cycle-Smart Day 1 (0:38:16)
Baystate Day 1 (0:34:47)

However the men's distribution still looks quite biased toward the race running long, with 80% of men's events lasting longer than an hour.  How does this compare to 2013?

In 2013, 18/44 Men's elite races were less than an hour  (41%), and the average race time was 1:21 shorter than in 2014.

The women's races were also significantly shorter (2:37 minutes shorter, 43% under 40 minutes), but this is expected since the rule about the duration of the women's race changed between 2013 and 2014.

In summary, I think it is safe to say that the women's rule change of "greater than 40 minutes" has created a bias toward "greater than 60 minutes" for the men's race as well, even though that's not the rule.

Comparing the 2013 Men's race length dataset to the 2014 Men's race data via a Student's T-test gives P less than 0.05, which is to say there's a 95% chance that this change in the year-to-year data was due to an outside factor (like a rule change) and only 5% that it is just random noise, and that the men's race length hasn't actually changed.

The full data is here.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Baystate Cyclocross Race Weekend

Baystate Cyclocross Day 1

Day 1 was as good as it gets for cyclocross.  High of 32, sun melting the snow, then the sun setting and elites racing on a freezing course that was changing every lap.  The ruts had been pliable during preride became icy channels of bike-eating death.  It was glorious.

The video is quite good looking, in my opinion, you should watch it.

The one time I tried to draft someone on a non-paved surface was also the one time I got eaten by a rut I didn't see and crashed.  On my way to the ground, a dude who was riding next to me and probably thought I was going to keep riding in a straight line plowed his front wheel into my bars, which snapped most of my brake lever off and sent him flying over the bars.

Somehow my bike still shifted and sort of braked, even missing most of the brake lever, so we were still in business.

Riding hard was a good way to crash while not actually going faster, so I focused on riding smooth and felt like things were going pretty well ... but then I got pulled at 2 to go because Curtis White is significantly better human than me.  When I realized we were getting pulled I elected not to sprint past Derrick St John, which is how you can tell he is not a scrub zone regular.

Final result:  36th/54.  Last guy in the middle third!

Day 2

By the time I got home at 8, there was no way I was going to cannibalize my road bike's shifter and derailleur (it's SRAM, so I can't just take the shifter) to replace my broken brake lever.   And, I mean, it worked for five laps after the crash on Saturday, so it's probably fine, right?


The conditions were way warmer and totally grossgnar.  Most of the course was a single rideable strip of softening mud, surrounded by mashed potato snow.  It was clear that passing would be VERY tough, so it's a really important holeshot, dude!

So that's how I ended up tailgating Nick Keough into a muddy, slushy, blinding holeshot off the pavement and totally failing to control my bike (did I mention my rear brake lever was mostly broken off?) when the inevitable slowdown happen.  I crossed my front wheel over his back and had to completely abandon ship to keep my bike from going into his wheel.

And that's how I ended up on my back in the middle of 50 bike racers with a shifter that had been downgraded from "mostly still working" to "mostly not working."

I rode half a lap on my 2-speed bike trying to decide if I could be competitive in the gears I had remaining.

At the off-camber by the dugout, some dudes were tiptoeing the high line and I was in freak-out-and-make-places mode so I went in low and hot... and outriggerred sideways into the mud ditch they were avoiding.  I didn't crash but I did hit my saddle hard enough to slip it in the clamp and reposition it for maximum ball-pokage, so that was the end of thinking about riding the race on that bike.

Luckily my wife's bike was in the pit!  Unluckily, it had Clement MXPs (note:  not a mud tire) on it, so I crashed on the first off camber after the pit.  And the second off-camber.  

I was now in the lastiest of places on a bike that didn't fit (why are these bars so far away?!) with tires that sucked.  Quitting seemed like a good option, but this is the year where I stop quitting and start finding ways to have fun even when I'm sucking, dammit.

On the finish straight I found Catherine Sterling (who had just raced) and I asked (told) her to move my bike into the other pit, which was completely ridiculous because why would she even know what my bike looks like?  She also answered me with "there's two pits?" which was not ideal.

But by some miracle, in the two minutes it took me to get to that pit, she and JD found my bike and got it there.

Then we executed a double wheel change in the bit, which is not something that happens very often!

Now I had a bike with mud tires and all the gears and a saddle that was level.  I also had about a minute gap to get out of last place.  And at the end of the lap, the cards said "EIGHT," so the lap was super short and Curtis was going to be paying me a visit uncomfortably soon.

There were two dudes dangling at a just-barely-plausible distance ahead of me, which kept me oddly motivated for two more laps (all of 15 minutes of racing!), and I managed to sneak past them into not-last just before we got pulled.  Yay bike racing! 

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Rules are Hard: 2014 UCI Cyclocross Race Lengths

At Day 1 of Baystate Cyclocross last weekend, the elite women raced for only four laps, with the winner clocking a time of 34:47 (riding roughly 8:12 laps).  In years past, this would have been worthy of an eye-roll and nothing more -- a fifth lap would have put the winning time at 43:00, which is marginally closer to the specified race length, (3 minutes long instead of 5 minutes short).

However, in 2014 the rules have changed, and in a step toward gender equality the UCI mandated that the women's race should be between 40 and 50 minutes.

My friend Matt Roy (whose wife was third in the race) noted this on twitter:

...which set off a fairly spirited debate about knowing the rules, why the rules are sometimes bent, and how much sexism is a part of any of this.

Matt, being a scientist, went to the trouble of looking through all the 2014 North American UCI race data to see if this was a one-off mistake or a systemic problem.  He tweeted the results of his research (it's 2014, that's all we do now), but I thought it was worth capturing for posterity:

So in 28 women's events, the race was run short 4 times, and 2 of those were by less than 60 seconds.  There have been only 2 egregiously short women's races this year (7.1%), and let's face it, getting a new rule correct 93% of the time is basically perfection, right?


The most interesting piece of data is in his third tweet:
By comparison, 2 men's under 60 min (but w/in interpretation of UCI rule).

The rule on men's race length reads as follows:

The duration of events must be as close as possible to 60 minutes for the elite men's events

Note the rule for men is not 60-70 minutes.  It's "as close to 60" as possible.  So a 56 minute race is better than a 65 minute race... and yet there's only been two men's races under an hour all season.

One would expect this to evenly distributed, ~14 races under an hour, 14 races over an hour, if the officials were following the "as close to 60 as possible" rule.

The only conclusion you can draw from 26/28 (93%!) of men's races running long is that the officials, having reframed their mindset to "40+ minutes" for the women, are carrying that over into "60+ minutes" for the men now.

So in case you're wondering why you got pulled more often this year, or raced 70 minutes more often this year, that's why.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Cheshire Cross Race Report

I write this having just left a John Hodgman show early.  He made a lot of jokes about being old and irrelevant, which as someone who used to blog hit perhaps closer to home than I would have liked.  After thirty minutes of wishing for the show to end, I realized that as an adult I am in control of my own destiny at all times, even when there's an implied social contract that wants to suggest otherwise.  So here we are!

Now that the days have gotten short, like every other pro desk jockey, amateur bike racer, I've totally quit training, unless you call a 90 minute mountain bike ride in the dark "training."  While trying to figure out if I had any kind of plan for maintaining respectability up until NBX (Nationals?  HAHAHAH), I decided that racing double weekends is really the only thing I can trust to help me hold some semblance of fitness.  Working long hours and drinking beers might be making me fatigued, but it's not making me tired, you know?  Or maybe vice versa?  Someone who's a coach, help me out here.

Anyway, down to Cheshire Cross I went!  Christin was at a bridal shower so I had full agency.  Cheshire is one of those races I'd heard good things about for years but never made it to, well, this is THE YEAR!  

I showed up and the first thing I found out was that Al had flatted two tubulars preriding, which would have been great except he brought extra wheels and won anyway.  But that should tell you something about the course... it was at about half rocky doubletrack, the kind you think "oh this will be so sweet to ride cross bikes on" but then you spend the whole time trying not to flat, so it's like kinda sweet but kinda not sweet, which is actually a good synopsis of bike racing in general.

In any case I put 30 freaking psi of caution into my tubulars and lined up with 20 friends or so in the 1/2/3 race.  I missed my callup because I was trying to pee without exposing myself (YOU FOOL!) but it didn't matter much, there were only three rows.

I took a very casual approach to the start, which seemed like it was clever until we got into the woods and I immediately got gapped off the peloton by someone who had never ridden a bike off road.

The gap appeared to be several miles long but I got across it in all of 10 seconds (mostly under braking) so I guess it wasn't.

Then I chilled some more and went around a few more dudes when it was easy.

Somewhere in there Amos did a step-over dismount for the barriers that I didn't believe I had actually witnessed until I went back and watched the video (watch the video!!).

Near the end of lap two I tagged onto a diverse group of dudes battling for respectability.  I drafted them and continued chilling, a luxury that really only exists in a non-UCI race when your wife isn't spectating.

But, it was almost like I had a plan!  Because lap 3 was the lap where EVERYONE FLATTED.  If I were a know-it-all I would tell you that lap 3 is when everyone gets too fatigued to unweight over the rocky sections, but the racing is too tight for people to avoid the rocks, so tubulars get MURDERED.  In any case, that was the lap I went by Aaron Oakes, Mike Wissell, Jules Goguely and Eric Carlson with flats. 

Seriously, 20% of the race flatted in a lap!  And I wasn't one of them!  

At some point we picked up Hunter Pronovost who was riding pretty well for a dude with promoter legs.  I haven't raced on promoter legs in at least two years now....

Hunter and I rode around behind Keith Gauvin until he told us that if we didn't do some work, we were going to get caught from behind.  This seemed like standard old-man trickery, but there were a LOT of dudes lurking 10-20 seconds back and I respond well to peer pressure, so I started trying to figure out a way to "contribute" without actually "contributing."

Sooooo with about 2.5 laps to go I might have finally gone to the front and I might have taken as strong a pull as I dared going into the longest technical section on the course... and when I came out of it with a 3 second gap I was like "well, just crush it for a lap until you break their spirit and you're set."

Which of course was operating under the assumption that everyone else is as breakable as me.  So a lap of crushing later, we got the bell and the gap was all the way up to 6 seconds, and the status was "well, just crush it for a lap until you break their spirit and you're set."

I could tell the crushing was getting difficult because I basically dropped my bike on my head trying to shoulder it on this lap.

Eric Carlson was CHARGING despite a flat which kept everyone behind me far too motivated, but I hung on juuuuuust barely to stay out of the sprint for fifth place (which he won), and holy shit, that means I was fourth??

....I'd like to thank everyone else for not putting enough air in their tires.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Cycle-Smart International Race Reports

 Day 1

After coming to Northampton for the past six years, I finally got something other than a bone-dry grass crit.  A light rain started around 11 and carried most of the way through the elite women's race.  I'm not gonna call it perfect conditions (it was a little sticky by the end.  wah.)  but it was basically as good as things get for me.  Slippery and fast.

Just like every other cat 2, I drew a crappy start spot, and it didn't really matter as much as I wish it did.  I stood in line on the pro-only section with a bunch of dudes for a bit, and then when it was my turn to run around the tree I fell on my face and made everyone stop.

After that, though, things were very shreddy.  For some reason much of the scrub zone had tunnel vision for the greasy, muddy line through the apex of every corner, which was not at all the fastest way to go around corners.  I definitely set a record for "most people passed on the outside" on lap one.  

Jon Nable took this video of me screwing up but looking awesome which I might have watched at least ten times.

As we settled into the second half of the race I ended up hanging out with official Quebec cyclocross ambassador Jean-Phillipe Thibault-Roberge.  In years past I have clung to him mercilessly like a barnacle, but clearly he has been doing too much school and not enough riding because I was able to take enough pulls to be non-annoying.  Obviously not 50% of the pulls though.  That would be crazy.

After 45 minutes we caught a cracked or demotivated Tom Sampson who wanted to chat up JP about the good ole days of racing Canada Cups.  I recognized that dudes who want to make jokes probably don't want to hurt very much and went to the front and DROPPED TOM SAMPSON.

ahahahah it makes no sense that I typed that and Tom will probably lap me next time we race mountain bikes

But anyway.  Going up the run-up for the last time, it was down to me and JP, and I got a little gap.  "well then," I thought, I'll just attack him a bit herer and take this two second gap out to five seconds, and he'll give up, because that's what I would do."

So I did that.  But three minutes later my legs were full of bees and JP was still dangling two seconds behind me, so this turned out to be a much much more painful way to finish one place ahead of JP than if I had just drafted him for six minutes and then outsprinted him in my traditional cheeseball fashion.

In the process of holding my tiny gap for an entire lap, I did end up turning my fastest lap of the race, so that's good for something.  The downside was that I caught Tim Ratta and Derek Hardinge coming past club row, and could do absolutely nothing when they opened up the sprint 1 second after I got there.  Damn bees.

Day 2

If Day 1 was the muddiest Northampton has ever been, Day 2 was the fastest it's ever been, with the thin layer of mud consolidating and drying into a layer of dirt that was basically pavement on most of the course.

It was also one of those days when things were just working right.  While everyone else was flipping out, I was calmly walking through the first bottleneck.  While other guys were getting caught on the wrong side of gaps, I was going around them just before they blew.  While other dudes were thrashing themselves into headwind trying to make the next group, I was chilling in the draft, saving  matches, and bridging later.

I wish I could pretend this was because I've FIGURED OUT BIKE RACING and wasn't just surfing a wave of luck.  

But basically I spent forty minutes drafting guys who didn't want me to pull (??) and then attacking them to get to the next group when they started slowing down.

This ridiculous peak of this cycle came when I was riding behind Jesse Keough and decided "this isn't fast enough, I think I'll bridge up to Aaron Oakes" and it actually almost worked.

The reason it didn't work is that, right as Sean McCarthy and Mike Busa were drunkenly cheering for me, I crashed on my face on a totally easy corner.

"Well that was a weird, I guess you were just being too aggressive trying to get across the gap" I thought as I rode by the pit.

Then I almost crashed on the next turn, too, because I had a front flat.

Hahahahahaha did I say everything was working right?  Oh, cyclocross.

So then I rode half a lap on a flat front tire, including the pro-only section.  Luckily flat tubulars grip quite nicely, they just don't roll very fast.

Eventually I got to the pit, and while a bunch of dudes had passed me I figured I could still go flog myself for the last 15 minutes and have something to show for it.

However, once I got back out on a pit wheel I felt oddly terrible.  Like I was suffering the same amount, but I just wasn't going very fast.  After a lap I basically gave up and decided that the lactic acid from my legs had pooled in my quads while I was getting a new wheel and I dunno, something something cramps muscles training fueling sad.

I was going to drop out when I realized that every single person behind me had been pulled.

I tooled around for a lap, which included picking up my GoPro (did I mention I broke that off in the crash?) and pulling aside to tell Jeremy Durrin I believed in him, even though I knew Jerome was going to smoke him in the sprint.

It wasn't until I got pulled at one lap to go that I realized the neutral wheel I'd picked up had a nice little hop in it and was rubbing my brakes every revolution.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Mansfield/Minuteman Weekend Race Report

Hey!  This blog took a little break for a while.  I was busy putting on Night Weasels, getting sick, sucking at Providence and getting married.  One of those three things I will write about later, try to guess which it is!

While I haven't had time to write, I have had time to add captions and fret over music choices for some chainstay cam videos, which are deserving of a better home than just my vimeo account.  So here we go!

Mansfield Cyclocross Race Report

The big difference between this race and Providence was that I knew I was under the weather going into this one.  I nearly got the reverse holeshot start, rode something like "hard tempo" all day, and eventually ended up going into the last lap with Tim Ratta and Patrick Collins.  There was a 16" single barrier (OLD SCHOOL!) that I had been hopping every lap, and a 12" - 16" set of barriers right before the finish.

What, you don't measure barrier heights with your skewer on preride?

Anyway, I hopped the single to start my attack, and hopped the double to finish the attack and not have to sprint against Tim, so that was a pretty sweet way to get a totally medicore 9th/22 place finish.

Minuteman Road Club Cyclocross

I did a fair bit of email consulting and mspaint-map-drawing with Russ about ways to make last year's course more balanced this year.  And it worked!  In that the course was much less of a cornering contest, and that I got dropped much harder and faster than last year.

Despite the fact that I was still feeling under the weather AND had raced the day before, I ended up hanging out with Mike Wissell for most of the race, which didn't make any sense.  I even went so far as to attack Mike with 3 laps to go, which certainly led to me hurting a lot more, but also led to Mike getting inexplicably better at turning and catching me about a lap later.

After that we "worked together" valiantly to try to put all the cat 3s in the race behind us.  We were not successful, although that's mainly because Kevin Goguen isn't really a cat 3.  The other cat 3's were vanquished once the clock struck 46 minutes.

Obviously I then repaid Mike for "working with me" by beating him in a sprint:
Russ Campbell Photo

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