Sad news: The JBCF race on April 3rd is cancelled, so I will leave Japan without battling the pros. Major disappointment, but given the current situation in the Tokyo area-- runs on drinking water, scarce gasoline, rolling blackouts and questionable radiation levels, it's really no surprise.
That made it all the more important to make Shonan Airinkai's last training camp before we leave Japan. When we got there, I got a surprise-- this guy: Okuhara Ryo was all-Japan amateur kilo champion a couple of years ago, and also happens to be the first track racing friend I made in Japan. At my first ever race in Japan, the Keio Kaku Bike Carnival in 2008, he was kind enough to say hi and help a very clueless beginner who spoke almost no Japanese. Ryo is currently training to take on the next test to enter the keirin academy. It was a surprise to see him as he's not an Airinkai member, but turns out he's good friends with Airinkai pro Wada Makuru.
Ryo demonstrates flawless standard-bike kilo form.
Coach Wada-san announced that the first day's training would be a team competition, and there was money on the line. The winning team would take ¥5000 from the losers. The format was head-to-head matches in rider-selected events, with a final team sprint to decide things.
The group we had on the day lent itself perfectly to the head-to-head format. We had two pros (Obara-san and Wada Makuru), two top amateurs (Ryo and Kitaura-san), two masters (Kameyama-san and myself) and two women racers (Hamada-san and Wada Risa, Coach Wada's daughter and Makuru's sister).
Captains were the two pros, Obara and Makuru. The line-ups:
-Basically with Ryo and Makuru, a dream team for me!
I chose flying lap and flying 200 TT to try against Kameyama-san. Thanks to coach Wada-san my standing starts have really improved, and I was able to best Kameyama in the standing lap. Predictably though, he crushed me in the 200, as that's his specialty. Eh, I needed the practice.
Overall though, B-Team was getting the job done. Makuru handled Obara-san, Ryo took care of Kitaura-san, only Risa was overpowered by the much more experienced Hamada-san. Team sprint time!
A-team were precise and their formation was perfect. Coach Wada said, "kirei" (beatiful) as they approached their first half lap.
Ours was probably more ragged. Those behind me had considerably more horsepower, so as first man I strugged to get off the line fast enough, and as I finished my lap I pulled up too soon. Nonetheless, we did it! ¥5000, please!
That night it was time for the traditional onsen, followed by dinner, drinks and hotel party. Good times, indeed.
The next day, Coach Wada announced it to be "David Day", in honor of my imminent departure for America. It was up to me to choose the training menu for the day. I chose a sprint tournament and 500 meter TT contest.
Post-lunch unconsciousness.
Yeah, I got the new team kit! Thankfully it's in slimming black...
I drew Ryo-kun in my first sprint, and just couldn't handle his attack with half a lap to go, so I was out early. As a consolation, I was third in the 500 behind Ryo and Obara-san.
Kameyama vs. Kitaura...
Obara-san vs. Okuhara Ryo...
But it wasn't just boys: Hamada-san and Risa.
There was even some boy/girl action, as Ishibashi-san takes on Hamada-san.
The final was Obara-san vs. Kitaura-san. Unfortunately, Kitaura-san had a low-speed crash in the first turn, so they called it. No harm done to Kitaura-san.
Here I am cold-blingin' in my Japanese National team warm ups-- a surprising going-away present from Makuru. I bet nobody else on my block in San Francisco has one of these! Thanks, Makuru!
What can I say? I'm so sad to leave these guys. An amazing team that I have so much more to learn from and also such warm and generous people. I will definitely miss them. みなさんほんとにどうもありがとうございます! Thanks for everything, it's been amazing!
But it's not over, I'm gonna stay on the team and hopefully come back to train and race with them as much as possible. The working plan is to come back next winter for a training camp at the new indoor track at Shuzenji. Fingers crossed!
In the meantime, I'll be bringing the black, gold and red of Shonan Airinkai to the US. Major goal of the season: US Masters Track Nationals at Trexlertown in July. Ganbarimasu!
A few days after the disaster we decided to flee to Kyoto with some friends in case things really went sideways with the nukes up in Fukushima. Not exactly a vacation, but we managed to enjoy ourselves despite the situation...
I'm gonna miss that inexplicable english usage the Japanese are so uniquely adept at.
The least appealing plastic food we've yet seen. The golf ball (egg?) seals the deal!
Sunday, March 13, 2011
As the world is now well aware, last Friday Japan suffered a magnitude 9.0 earthquake, followed by massive tsunami and a still ongoing emergency at a nuclear power plant in Fukushima prefecture.
Tokyo was not nearly as hard hit. This is the worst of the damage at our apartment-- some stuff fell off the walls, and my bikes fell over. At the time it hit, I was at work in an office building in Shibuya, downtown Tokyo. Not a fun place to be! All the staff sprinted down the fire escape as things really started shaking-- we could see our eight-story building rocking back and forth at least a meter, while huge hotels and office towers swayed overhead-- so scary! It was by far the longest quake I'd ever felt, maybe 5 minutes? Several large aftershocks followed. Work was cancelled.
As the trains had automatically stopped, I was forced to walk the 15 kilometers home back to our town in Kanagawa prefecture, a four hour journey. It was a weird scene as Tokyoites made a mass exodus by foot from central Tokyo. The sidewalks were packed. A woman working in a convenience store made small talk with me- not normal in Tokyo! A strange almost carnivalesque atmosphere prevailed. The phone lines were jammed, and my cell phone was almost dead from constant attempts to reach my wife when we finally connected. She was ok, and only after talking with her did I begin to understand the level of devastation to our north.
Despite all this, I had my first race of the year scheduled for Sunday. At first I naturally assumed it would be cancelled, but it was pretty much business as usual in the Tokyo area, so after a call to a friend who works for the Kanagawa Federation, we found the race was still on. Maybe when something this terrible happens it's good to carry on as best you can? I don't know, but with no compelling reasons not to, I decided to go to the race as planned.
And I'm so glad I did. My teammates and coach were there, as well as some friends and people from the Federation I've come to know. The racing and camaraderie were a welcome distraction. I was even able to get excited about looking at some cool bikes, like this sweet hot-pink Kalavinka carbon above.
And this brand new Cervelo, owned by teammate and keirin ace, Ichikawa-san.
Ichikawa-san and Kameyama-san preparing to do damage.
Ichikawa-san in points race action.
I signed up for the kilo and sprints. It being March (very early, I usually peak in June or July), and given the extenuating circumstances, I had no high hopes. Just looking to have a good time. But after getting an 11.9 in my flying 200, I thought, "hey, that's a lot better than I thought!", and started to feel a bit more up. However, I didn't know it at the time, but there were several university team hard-asses there, one of whom clocked a phenomenal 11.3. Usually at local Federation races I can count on Kameyama-san to post best time, with me trailing closely behind. Not so on this day: I just squeaked into the tourney in 6th place. Presumably, Kameyama-san qualified narrowly ahead of me.
Then it was kilo time, a time I both anticipate and dread. I know it's my best event, but as I've said here many times before, it's an event only the insane could enjoy! Oh well, saddle up...
The start felt good, mostly in that it just felt automatic. I think this is down to the excellent coaching I've been getting from Wada-san. He's given me some great mental cues to latch onto, and I guess maybe I've started to internalize them well. Later Wada-san confirmed this, telling me my first 200 meters was 16.9 seconds, probably my fastest kilo start ever.
I was a little bit disappointed with my peak speed, but the "float" was excellent. There was almost no wind, so I was able to hang onto the float until well into the last lap. Of course then the pain kicked in like it always did, and the last 200 meters was pure hell as always, but overall I felt I'd done it pretty well. It felt pretty automatic, which in my experience is usually a good sign. But given the fact that it was March and about 16˚C I had no wild hopes about the time. Just happy with a proper execution.
As I rolled by Wada-san, he shouted out the time to me, "one-oh-nine!", "REALLY?!" I said in shocked disbelief, before rolling onto the infield grass and collapsing off the bike into the usual post-kilo fetal position. Here's evidence:I'd set a new PR in MARCH! I would have been surprised and happy with a 1:10, satisfied with a 1:11, maybe secretly disappointed with a 1:12. But 1:09.70..., shocked and ecstatic best describes my feeling! And not only a PR but a win in my first race of the season: 2nd place was a 1:10.34, 3rd a 1:11, followed by a gaggle of 1:12's. All great times given the time of year. Thank you Wada-san! Maybe I can hit 1:08 this year...
EDIT, 3/16/11: This just came in the mail. Not even a nuclear catastrophe can stop the Japanese postal service! Ganbarimashita!
Apparently this was a Kanagawa Federation selection race for another national competition (like the Kanagawa championship race I won last year), so the federation head, Ochiai-san, asked me to represent the prefecture again. Sadly, due to our impending move back to the States, I had to decline. Extra bummer, it's close- in Tachikawa! -and soon, April 24th. We fly out on April 12th. Dammit!
On my own personal cloud, I was brought back to earth abruptly: Time for the first round of sprints. My opponent? Kameyama-san. Shit!
He destroyed me easily, jumping on the back straight with a little less than a lap remaining, I had no answer for him. His jump is super explosive- he gets a gap so quickly, and has the speed to make it stick. I had no chance! My day finished, I became a spectator.
Kameyama-san won the first race of the final easily with his patented back-straight jump.
But he couldn't hold off the strong university rider in the last two rides, so had to settle for second. Probably he is not too disappointed. Coach Wada told me he doesn't usually come into form until summertime. Just a training race for him.
Kanagawa Cycling Federation coach Yajima-san, killing it in typical style.
Japan Cycling Federation official Miashita-san totally chilling.
Beautiful Shonan Bank Keirin-jo, I've been calling it my home track for two years. Maybe my last visit there, so happy to leave it with a win, while wearing the Kanagawa jersey no less! I have to say 'thank you' to the place and it's people for a day of perfect distraction from the real world, and a couple of great years of racing and friendship. ほんとにどうもありがとうございます!
I was able to spend an entire weekend at the last Shonan Airinkai training camp. Two days of pain, what fun!
Two of my teammates showed up with some sweet new machinery-- brand new BT's! Same as used by the Australian national team. The Edge model belongs to young professional keirin racer Wada Makuru, while the Stealth belongs to the teams top amateur sprinter, Kameyama-san.
I got to play with the team's world-class Mavic wheelset for a while. I must win the lottery, soon!
It wasn't all business, though. After the first day's training, we headed for the hotel and hit the onsen (hot springs), then copious food and drink were consumed.
The next day, my training menu included work on the last lap of a kilo or team sprint. Coach Wada had me do three flying 500 meter time trials, with a three minute pause between. First one wasn't bad at all, second one definitely hurt, but the third one was enough to send me to the port-a-potties anticipating a second appearance of my breakfast. Ouch, and ouch.
After lunch (I managed to keep down my breakfast), it was time to work on the standing start. Here's a video comparison of Maruru, Kameyama-san and myself:
Clearly I need some work, especially on the first few strokes. Makuru is a very serious badass, and is about one second faster than me and Kameyama-san, who are actually pretty close, on a standing lap time.
Some cadets from the neighboring Keirin Academy came to hang out with Makuru, who most expect to be a future star of pro keirin. He's already got several wins in his first season, which just started in January. The real deal! Note how the guy on the left is, perhaps unwittingly (perhaps not...), giving me the "fuck off" sign.
Beautiful indoor 250 and a ghostly Fuji-san. The roof is now closed, perhaps they've begun the woodwork inside.
Here's a cool little folding work stand for track bikes. Pretty sure it's only available in Japan.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Here's an interesting little film about Japanese professional keirin. Thanks to Gordon Knight for hipping me to this:
Part of what makes racing in Japan fun is the language barrier. This sounds weird, but because my Japanese is so poor, I'm really never sure exactly what is going on until it actually happens. However, I consider this a good thing. Every experience is a surprise, a gradual unfolding. Basically, I'm constantly clueless, only slowly understanding the real situation. It keeps me on my toes, open-minded.
The latest example of this is my new team. Back in the States, we have a clearly laid-out numerical ranking of racing categories all organized under one governing body, USA Cycling. Category 5 are beginners, Cat. 4 are more experienced novices, 3's are those with some solid results behind them, Cat. 2 riders are approaching elite level, while category 1 designates a top elite racer, possibly a national team member and a rider likely to turn pro. Good results earn points towards an upgrade to the next category. Simple.
But in Japan the system is far more complicated. So far I count four separate governing bodies, and for all I know there may be more. The JCRC seems to be made up of fairly casual hobby racers. The JCF (Japan Cycling Federation) is the official UCI governing body for Japan and so has riders from junior to elite and professional. The JBCF (Jitsugyodan) has been explained to me as "semi-pro" (more on this in a minute), and then there is the JKA, the Japanese Keirin Association, or professional keirin.
So far I have raced in the JCRC and JCF ranks, and have not seen anything like the categories or upgrade points of the US system. Of course some races are categorized by age groups, but at the same time I've raced several JCF races with no discernible categorization at all. At some races they simply group you according to ability-- for track races this often means seeding by kilo times. But now I've joined the Jitsugyodan "semi-pro" ranks. Just what does this mean? Well, I'm slowly findng out...
I assumed that "semi-pro" meant "not really pro" and that the major difference was just gonna be bigger purses and a kind of self-selected higher level of competition. Well, it is that, but there's more to it. You do not have to earn the right to go "semi-pro", you just have to sign up and pay your license fee, so the self-selection part is correct. But, the "not really pro" part-- I was completely wrong about that.
Last weekend was my second training camp with Shonan Airinkai's JBCF squad. Just as last time, there were a couple of pro's along. Last time I assumed that they were there just for training and to try the unique 250 meter track, kind of graduates of the team who had moved up to the pro ranks. Sort of slumming with the amateurs, or so I thought. This is wrong. The pro's are ACTIVE members of the team, and this means that come April, I will be fighting against professional keirin racers! What have I gotten myself into? This is what I mean about the surprise factor of racing in Japan!
This is Obara-san, a member of the team and an S-class pro keirin racer. In pro keirin, SS is the elite class (of which there are only 50 or so racers [EDIT: I just learned there are only 18 SS-class pros, a very elite group]), S-class is next, then A-class is the lower level. Ishibashi-san mentioned that Obara-san is only 22 years old, so to be S-class so young indicates a very serious bad-ass.
A couple of Obara-san's rides. The new Anchor must surely be one of the best track bikes available. Behind the Look is my new team sprint squad-mate, Kitaura-san.
I was super excited to be back at the 250 meter track. This time I was immediately much more comfortable on the steep 45˚ banking. It was a nice day too, around 12˚C and virtually no wind. Brought my crunchy disc along to test it out ahead of any races to assure myself it was fit for duty-- no problems at all. My bank account and my wife are both very relieved.
First up for me was to try some flying efforts on the track and hope to learn a good line for the 200. After warm-ups, we did a series of flying 100's paced up to the approach by coach Wada-san on the motor.
Here's Obara-san's motor-paced 100:
I did a couple of these and then wanted a to try an unassisted flying 200. It's amazing the G-forces you feel in the turns at speed on a 250! It really forces you down on the bike, and you must consciously push yourself back and up with your arms to avoid sliding down and forward. It also feels incredibly fast! I was a bit shocked to find that after my 200 (which felt like a new P.R.) my time was a most pedestrian 13 flat! Shite. Wada-san explained the problems with my approach (too slow on the penultimate lap, standing too late in turn 3/4) and my line (staying too high entering turn 1), and that made me feel a little better...
After lunch, I decided to try a standing 500 meter time trial to give my TT bars a try out on the 250. Coach Wada said, "Ok, no slower than 35 seconds", which would have meant a new P.R. for me. I thought to myself, 'b-but it's February! It's 12˚C! And-and I feel fat!' Um..., "Yes, Coach! Ganbarimasu!"
Nope: 36.3. Wada-san was kind, however. He gave me a thumbs up and said my start was getting better. I felt I'd flubbed the first stroke, but he said, "the first stroke doesn't matter. It's number two and three that really count". So more wisdom for me. I must say, it's really cool to have a coach to look at you and give you criticism on your riding. The rest of the effort was ok, but I'd gotten into the aerobars a bit too early-- the timing of this stuff is a lot different on a 250 to a 400 meter track. Obviously I still have a lot to learn.
More eye-candy, Ichikawa-san's Anchor.
Next I was told that the team hoped I'd take part in team sprint with them at the next race. Well, hell yes! So that meant time to do some testing and see what the rider order would be. We were gonna do a series of one and two lap efforts in three-man team sprint formation, with rotating riders in different orders.
To review, this is what team sprint looks like when done by the best in the world. This is the gold medal ride-off at the 2004 Olympics between Germany and Japan:
Picking the order of these three riders is critical in team sprint. You want to have a really good first lap, but you don't want to have the first guy be so powerful that he gaps the second guy (Cue flashback to Yamaguchi...). The second guy has to be the fastest on the team, as he has to take over from the first guy, continue the acceleration of the first guy, then not fade at all before dropping off the third guy. The third guy has to have the best sprint endurance, and it's his job not to fade, and even to up the pace if possible. His is the most painful job, of course.
Picked for the team are Tsuchiya-san, Kitaura-san, and myself. Tsychiya-san seems about my speed, maybe a bit younger. Kitaura-san is currently training for a crack at the next qualification exam for the Keirin Academy, and he looks pretty damn likely to me. This kid has some serious speed and power- we watched him do a 11.5 second 200 on a standard keirin bike and running an 88" gear! Serious leg-speed!
So we did three tests, two of one lap and one of two laps duration, with each of us taking a turn on the front. Even though I somehow managed the quickest first lap, it was clear that Kitaura-san is the most powerful and so garnered the 2nd man position. Tsuchiya-san faded a hair as 2nd man, so got the job as starter, and that left me as-- 3rd man, ouch!
Times of the day. The Katakana they use to write my name, デブ (de-bu), sounds the same as the same word in Japanese that means "fat". Is this a subtle hint from Coach Wada to take a different direction in my training?
It's so exciting to be asked to do the team sprint with these guys. It's gonna be a thrill to do it for real in April. As an aside, Ishibashi-san later told me that the squad I was training with was the "B" team sprint squad. The "A" team will be major Shonan Airinkai bad-asses Ichikawa-san, Kameyama-san and an as yet unnamed professional rider. Whoa.
Another amazing day at Shuzenji. Here's my goofy ass and the new 250. You can see the roof is almost completed, soon they'll be working on the wooden track itself.
Now for the sad part: We're leaving Japan. After the April race, Tomo and I jet back home. Yes, though I've found a virtual track racers paradise in Japan, I'm giving it up. I've been made an offer I can't refuse in the form of a very sweet job in the U.S., and well, when it comes down to it I have to admit that track cycling is a hobby for me. An amazing, rewarding, exciting hobby, but a hobby nonetheless. Obviously, I will never turn pro. So sadly, reality calls, and back to America we go. However, I do hope to keep a toe in the water here. I'll maintain my Japanese racing license and my membership to Shonan Airinkai, and hope to be able to make it back occasionally to race here.
Okuhara Ryo was all-Japan amateur kilo champion a couple of years ago, and also happens to be the first track racing friend I made in Japan. At my first ever race in Japan, the Keio Kaku Bike Carnival in 2008, he was kind enough to say hi and help a very clueless beginner who spoke almost no Japanese. Ryo is currently training to take on the next test to enter the keirin academy. It was a surprise to see him as he's not an Airinkai member, but turns out he's good friends with Airinkai pro Wada Makuru.
Ryo demonstrates flawless standard-bike kilo form.
Multi-World Masters medalist Hamada-san's slick TT position.
Post-lunch unconsciousness.
Yeah, I got the new team kit! Thankfully it's in slimming black...
I drew Ryo-kun in my first sprint, and just couldn't handle his attack with half a lap to go, so I was out early. As a consolation, I was third in the 500 behind Ryo and Obara-san. 
Kameyama vs. Kitaura...
Obara-san vs. Okuhara Ryo...
But it wasn't just boys: Hamada-san and Risa.
There was even some boy/girl action, as Ishibashi-san takes on Hamada-san.
Here I am cold-blingin' in my Japanese National team warm ups-- a surprising going-away present from Makuru. I bet nobody else on my block in San Francisco has one of these! Thanks, Makuru!
What can I say? I'm so sad to leave these guys. An amazing team that I have so much more to learn from and also such warm and generous people. I will definitely miss them. みなさんほんとにどうもありがとうございます! Thanks for everything, it's been amazing!
In the meantime, I'll be bringing the black, gold and red of Shonan Airinkai to the US. Major goal of the season: US Masters Track Nationals at Trexlertown in July. Ganbarimasu!
