Niki and I talked a bit how a lot of the match sprints on Sunday were won by people sprinting very, very long - starting with 500m to go. It's a risky strategy - the long sprinter risks tiring him or herself out, being drafted, and passed easily by a much fresher rider.

It's a bit different in a big match sprint tournament; at Kissena, a lot of the sprints were three-up or four-up. I realized that this can wind up working well far more frequently than in a two-up; in one, Niki broke early on turn 4, and Andrew, Deverell, and I fell into a paceline to catch him. However, since only one person would advance, none of us wanted to take the lead to drag the others up to Niki. Each moment that went by, he gained on us - the strength of the pack was broken by Niki's move and by the shortness of the race.

There's a discussion here on sprinting long in match sprints, which is pretty interesting. I'm still making my way through it.

But of course, it's focused on two-up match sprints. Three-up and four-up are of the more amateur, grassroots track variety (I call low-key down-home tracks grassroots track because of their phenomenal people power, and because the roots of the grass and weeds under the surface push around and cause waves, bumps, and distensions).

Next season I'll spend a bit more time and dedication working on my sprint; I watched it rise nicely this season - I even hit 40mph on my road bike a couple of times - and, with a bit more diligence and dedication, I think I can cook up something formidable.

A crazy night last night at the track. On the way out, I got right-hooked by a livery cab turning into a driveway. Nearly right-hooked, anyway. It took some skilled skid-turning to avoid it, but I'm more impressed at my ability to engage in a very hostile argument in Spanish with the driver, who claimed que no tiene la culpa. I assured him that he did, and that in future, que necesita buscar, necesita usar los ojos! Pinche punetero!

It got my heartrate up, but that's not the same as warming up - I only got in a paltry two laps before the races started, and when the 5s were called to the rail for a 9 lap points race, I was cold. Bad condition for busting my ass, which I did, placing in two sprints and winning a respectable 3rd. But when it was all said and done, I felt like I was going to puke.

I felt a little bit better during the scratch, and moved strongly with Dan Bones. It didn't stick, though, and we wound up spending too much time in front. When things heated up on the final lap, I blew up hard, sat up, and didn't place. I was hurting. I'm going to have to figure out how to get the strength that some other folks have, for counterattacking and spending a couple laps off the front.

The third race was a miss and out; with somebody from Brooklyn Velo Force setting the pace, we hustled around the track, sprinting through turn 4, trying to avoid getting pulled off for getting in last each time. I stayed in the back for most of the lap, hustling up on turn 3 and coming down the banking on 4. It worked out well - I stayed in. For several laps I was boxed in on the inside but made some room in the sprint. I had a few kicks in me and hung on until there were just 3 of us remaining. Thinking that the neutral lap was the last lap, Andy kicked hard as the BVF rider moved forward, and I thought I was done. The pace stayed high into the actual bell lap and I fell off Andy's wheel. Hurting, I almost sat up and settled for 3rd, but I remembered that Andy was hurting as much as I was. Tapping into reserves, I put on an extra burst of speed and pulled even with him in turn 3; in turn 4, he looked over his left shoulder, but I was coming down the banking on his right. We sprinted hard and I edged him for 2nd place.

Of course, that put me in the uncomfortable spot of getting invited to the B Feature, to race with the 4s in a 12 lap points race. Immediately, with no break, and coughing like an asthmatic. Fortunately the pace stayed sane, and when I caught my breath by sucking wheel on the end of the line, I felt good enough to move up and place 3rd in one of the middle sprints.

I got a word from another rider about a move I had made, and started to think maybe I wasn't as safe a rider as I thought I am - maybe my confidence isn't so deserved. But talking about it later, he clarified what he had told me - just that I had unintentionally blocked him. Not unsafe, just (perhaps) unwise; he went on to compliment some of my riding, which made me feel a whole lot better.

Can you tell I'm excited for these Wednesday night races? Some people are encouraging me to upgrade to the Cat 4, but I'd like to stay in the 5 field for a handful more races in order to gain confidence, continue getting in better shape, and wait till I get a bit faster. Maybe after a few weeks of the sprint/recovery training that I am planning.

Yesterday, I finally went out to the Kissena Velodrome in Queens. It’s a bike track – a banked concrete oval, made for riding track bikes (one speed, no coasting, no brakes) very, very fast. Despite having ridden track bikes on city streets for years, despite having lots of friends who race out there, I hadn’t yet taken the plunge and gone out to race.

Yesterday I did. I put a higher, faster, harder gear on my bike (Beth: 48.15 – what do you ride at the track?), borrowed some drop bars, got up early, packed water and food, and went out to the track.

The racers assemble on the infield, making adjustments to their bikes, pinning their numbers onto their jerseys, stripping off casual shorts to reveal padded shorts or bibs. Many are pumping up their tires; more than one put packing tape over the valve hole on his several-thousand-dollar aerodynamic disc wheel. Others shark around checking out gear and garb – I chatted with a rider from Sleepy Hollow, New York, who had a lovely classic Raleigh as well as a totally awesome jersey with the headless horseman on it.

The races are separated by class – Women’s, Men’s A, Men’s B, and Masters. I’m in Men’s B, which has a curious mix of first-timers, the skilled but (comparatively) slow, and the dudes on super expensive bikes with thighs the size of my torso, who should probably be riding in the A group. So, fortunately, there’s plenty of time to wait around and rest between races.

My first race is a match sprint – four riders, two laps. Typically the first lap is very slow as each rider tries to avoid being in front. A rider in back can predict if and when the lead rider will make a move, draft the lead rider, and pass them on the final turns and beat them in the sprint on the homestretch.

As we’re finishing our casual first lap, I’m behind the lead rider, and the advice I got a few nights ago (“Just don’t try to win your first time out”) is ringing through my head. We enter turn one, high on the banking, and I glance behind me. If I make a move, will Nick and Jack catch it? I shrug. I’m not trying to win, I’m just picking up the pace. I dive down the banking with a big burst of speed and as I come out of turn two I get low, low, low in the drops against the velodrome’s backstretch headwinds. I chance a glance behind me – I’ve got some space! I swing around turns three and the bumpy turn four and stay low and put on one last desperate burst of speed and as I cross the line, I realize that I’ve held off Nick and that my friends in the infield are cheering my name! Holy crap, I won!

I sit to spectate for a while, and, between races, hop on a paceline and do twenty or so laps to keep my legs warm, which comes in handy when my group is called to the rail for a 10 lap scratch race. A scratch race is a basic race – a bunch of laps, with winners at the end.

A few laps in, two guys break off the front, and another young rider who I’ve met a few times at bike events asks me to work with him to reel them in. For five or six laps we’re alternating pulls (riding in front, breaking the wind for the rider close behind to be fast with less effort), closing the gap little by little. For a while, we’re between the leaders and the rest of the pack, but the pack catches up as we close the gap. On turn 2 of the last lap, we catch the leader, who pulls up track and lets us go by (remember, in racing strategy, if you’re in front, you’re at a disadvantage! Kind of like golf in that regard). I’m not in great position for the final sprint; a big guy comes around me on the inside, riding on the grass to sprint past my buddy Nick who’s sprinted by (with me encouraging him!). Coming around turns 3 and 4 we lap another kid – Nick uses him as a blocker to ride high on the track and come down fast, and he’s got the advantage on me. He finishes second to the big guy, and I take third. Not bad for my second race!

After that, it seems, I was pretty done. I raced a miss-n-out, where the last person on each lap is eliminated. Mark and I worked together again to push the pace forward, but didn’t achieve any kind of a breakaway. and besides, there’s not much point in a small breakaway in a miss-n-out. I think one is better served racing smartly with the pack, and not being boxed in during the final sprint. We did a good job, but when the pack caught us after several laps, I was in poor position – on the inside of turn 4 – and was caught out.

I also had the match sprint semifinal, against two very fast guys, one of whom just came from behind, ate me and the other like a shark, easily dispatching us. Later, the other pointed out that it’s wise to get the fast guy in front during the casual lap. Of course – it made me wonder why his strategy was just to cruise along at a fairly brisk pace during the first lap.

I also entered a 20 lap scratch, which was open to Masters (30+ year-old riders), all women, the A group, and any Bs that qualified. It was a fast group, and I was struggling to stay on the end of the pack, hurting every time there was an acceleration. With nine laps to go I bailed, pulling up track, and not feeling bad about it either.

Well, I’m hooked. Beth, you helped me get inspired to get out and race. It’s too bad the season is ending, but I’m excited that by next season, I’ll have my dedicated track bike.

I definitely got the courage and skills to go out there because of Heidi’s prospect park race series, summerslam. Awesome stuff.

‘till next season…