2005 pics

team van

Brugge



The Butcher in Hertsberge


The bakery

the CC livingroom... spacious



The injuries I sustained after my crash in Wervik.


My calf... powering over the cobbles in Tour of Antwerp



A beautiful day in Brugge

Belgium 2005, entry 10

After a visit to the doctor last week, I was given the OK to race for my last week in Belgium. My wrist feels good and my stitches are out. I just tape up my wrist before I go out to ride and I have no problems with it. I have done a few races in the past week and am just getting my racing legs back. My first race back was not too good considering I hadn't raced for two weeks. Two weeks without racing is not out of the ordinary back home, but here in Belgium taking that kind of time out of competition really affects the legs. I felt dull and a little weak that first race back and could tell that my 'jump' was a little slow. After some long training and some kermis racing I feel like I'm back in the swing of things. I raced yesterday in Wingene and made the break for the first 90 minutes. It was certainly an improvement in my racing style. I went out and raced hard instead of hiding in the peleton. Of course there is always something to improve upon and in this case that would be digging deeper to stay in the race for a longer time.

My stay here at the CC is coming to an end. I have learned more in these 3 months about cycling and my capabilities than I have in the previous 3 years. I'm a little sad to be leaving but I look forward to my off season training and to returning next year and making big improvements. My last 4 days in Belgium could be busy one's because there is a chance that I will be doing a small stage race on my last two days. Even if I don't, there will be kermis' to race and plenty to learn. Thanks for reading along and following my racing for the past 3 months. Till next year, Vince Roberge

Belgium 2005, entry 9

Well, cycling sure is full of ups and downs. Just after a nice stretch of good racing I find myself sprawled out on my bed, typing with one hand because my other is in a cast. I fractured a bone in my left wrist and put a two inch gash in my shin yesterday in a pretty nasty crash. The race was a UCI 1.12 in Wervik, Belgium. I made it a personal goal to race aggressive and take part in a few attacks. I was under the direction to race hard for as long as I could, and risk not finishing, instead of just sitting in for the four hours. I did just that.

Now on to what you all want to hear about: the crash. After a hard effort near the front, I sunk back to about 45^th position. The peleton bunched up as we glided over some rolling hills about 10km before the feed zone. On one of the slight downhills, I could feel the pack starting to swell and the motorcycle to my left made me quite nervous. I would guess that we were going about 50km/ hour when I heard a bunch of popping and crunching. Everyone ahead of me immediately locked up their brakes and I did the same. The closer I got to the moaning riders on the ground, the harder I squeezed the brake levers. I continued to skid my tires, like a balancing act on ice. About 2 seconds before I went down I knew I wasn't going to be able to stop in time. I hit someone or something and flew head-first over the bars. What I remember next is feeling the exhaust of the motorcycle on my face and then thinking that my shin hurt pretty bad. I sat up and got very scared when I saw my shin bone peaking out of the 5mm-wide gash. I pinched it shut and tried to look away as I awaited medical attention. Every other part of my body felt fine. A nurse came and asked if I wanted to keep riding. Hmmm... I thought. No, I think I'll go to the hospital instead (then she saw my shin). I saw Bernard briefly and he said that the ambulance would take me to the hospital and that he would see me later. I wasn't scraped at all and besides the shin, no one could have told that I had been in a crash. The more time that went by, the more my wrist began to hurt. After stitches and X-rays, I remember a terrible sinking feeling when they told me that I would need a cast on my wrist. I can't begin to describe the disappointment I felt as they plastered my arm.

Hope.

There is a chance I will be able to race before my scheduled departure from Belgium. I'll get more X-rays in a week and then see if a removable brace will work. I may be able to race with some sort of splint or brace, but probably not over cobblestones! I guess this is part of the sport and another experience to live through and learn from. Every up has it's down, and hopefully every down has it's up. Well, I'm down, but definitely not out. Thanks for reading (my one hand is getting pretty tired). Till next time, VR

Belgium 2005, entry 8

Belgian Crack

No , not that crack. And no, not that crack either. I'm talking about the pit that can be found in the middle of most main roads in Belgium. All UCI races and most kermis' contain at least a few main roads made with large concrete slabs. These slabs are about a car width wide and are about twice as long. For some reason or another these slabs are not put right next to each other, which leaves large, intimidating cracks every few meters and one right down the center of the road: The Belgian Crack.

Races in Belgium are run on a full rolling enclosure, so the riders have the full road (and yes the sidewalk, grass, and gravel are fair game too). There is no yellow line in the middle, so they couldn't even have a 'yellow line rule.' If they did it would have to be called the 'Belgian Crack Rule.' So during races it is sometimes a challenge to get past the Belgian Crack. Obviously the cracks that are perpendicular to your wheel are less of a challenge, but they do give a nice jolt to the bars and hands, especially if there is a slight rise from one to the next. The crack down the center of the road is the scariest. I've seen this crack as large as 3 cm, no joke. And if you do the math... 23mm tire... 30mm crack... Yes, I've seen guys crash because of Belgian Crack.

Getting over the crack is always fun. There are usually two scenarios: getting over the crack while riding in a pack or getting over while going single file. Single file is always the easiest because all you have to do is follow the leader. One guy will swing right over it and everyone else follows, going from one side of the road to the other in one clean swoop. Trying to cross the crack in a large pack is a different story. You can try and bunny hop it and look like an idiot or you can try to ride over it very quickly and lift your front tire a little for some extra insurance. Whatever you choose, watch where you're going because knocking into a Belgian spells trouble.

Belgian Crack is just another great element of racing in Belgium! Thanks for reading. Until next time, VR

Belgium 2005, entry 7

Yesterday I raced a UCI in Reningelst, which is a small town near Ieper. The race was very similar to a kermis in that it was held on a circuit and had many turns and narrow roads. We were to do one lap of 10km and then ten laps of 16km. Many notable teams were present including Beveren 2000 (Quickstep's amateur team), Cerdi, and VC Roubaix. The USA U23 National Team also had guys there. After about 45 minutes a break had formed and the peleton would spend the next 3 hours slowly closing the gap, with many attacks in between in attempt to bridge. The leaders never had more than 2 minutes on the peleton, which proves that the pace was very fast.

I had some trouble staying near the front in the early part of the race. It took me a few laps to learn the roads and wind and to figure out he best places to make a move to the front. I once hopped on the sidewalk when the pace let up and sprinted all the way to the front just before coming back on the road to make the turn onto the narrowest road of the race. I was the first through the turn! It is much easier and safer to be in the front, especially in a race like this. The accelerations out of the corners are much slighter when you are in the first 20 through the corner. It sound so easy: stay at the front, but within a lap of me being in first position I was back in mid-pack, which in this case was around 80^th. Getting to the front is one thing ...staying at the front is a whole different ballgame. There are times in the race when all you can do is hold on to the wheel in front of you and pray that no one opens a gap. Actually there were many of these times in yesterday's race. One section in particular seemed to open up gaps on every lap (another reason to be at the front). After about 3 hours of racing, a gap opened up a few places ahead of me and no one could close it down. Everyone was single file and suffering very badly. Many guys called it a day and quit the race when they couldn't get back to the peleton. I was in a group of 12 guys that were not yet ready to give up. We worked very hard for almost a full lap and eventually got back to the peleton. I knew at that moment I needed to get to the front because in the next hard section the race would be ripped to shreds. I moved up to the middle and could feel that the end was near for me. I had pushed my body very hard and dug very deep to get back to the peleton. On the next hill I slowly drifted to the back as my heart rate went through the roof. This was the end. I gave it one last shot on the downhill but the gap continued to open. 3.5 hours and I was done. Very close considering the winning time was 4 hours and 3 minutes.

There is a huge mental aspect of racing in Belgium that I am starting to learn and adopt. The best advice that I have ever received about racing in Belgium is that 'You can always ride harder!' This statement is very true. There are moments when the race is single file and there are 150 guys riding in the gutter and you're mind is telling your body to stop. I am learning that you can tell your body to go that little bit further. You can block that signal that is telling your body to stop. You can embrace the pain. You can always go that little bit further. And I'm getting better at doing that. I can remember 3 specific times yesterday when I shut my mind off and just went that little bit harder and it kept me in the race much longer. I know that I am strong enough to finish these races and my cleverness during races is improving too. I am continuing to learn in every race I do. My next shot is a UCI in France tomorrow. Wish me luck. VR

Belgium 2005, entry 6

I always thought that racing over cobblestones would be fun, exhilarating, and much smoother. I imagined the history and the tradition of the cobbled roads of Flanders and how awesome it would be to race over some of the same sections that are in The Classics. After a few races that incorporated cobblestone sections, I can officially say that there is nothing fun about racing over those wicked stones. Don't get me wrong, I still like racing on cobbles and want them to be part of the courses, but they are truly a pain in the ass, back, hands, wrist, arms, neck, fingers, knees, and just about every other part of your body.

I did a kermis that was held on a 5km circuit which included a 400 meter section of relatively smooth cobbles. The race was 25 laps long so the 12 guys who finished raced over 10km of cobbles! There is no such thing as smooth cobbles though. When I say relatively smooth I mean that at least one of your tires is in contact with the ground at any given moment or that the stones are close enough together that your tires won't get wedged in the crack. It is very true that a race in Belgium goes the hardest in the hardest sections, which means that cobbles are hell on a bike during a race. You're in pain simply because of the speed of the race but also because of the rattling and jarring of your intestines, brain, and bones while you maneuver the stones. It seems like every part of your body hurts over these sections. You may think that the pavement is sweet relief after the cobbles but it sometimes is worse because of the gaps that opened on the stones which need to be closed. Many a time the outcome of a race is determined on these historic stones. They tear races to shreds and blister your hands (seriously, they do).

In no way do I think that I am a master of racing over cobbles, but I have learned a thing or two about getting over them as quickly and easily as possible. It is very important how you place your weight, especially on a cobbled climb. I found that sitting on the front of the saddle with my hands on the tops works pretty well. I try to keep a very tight grip with my hands but at the same time keep my arms very loose to absorb shock. Pushing a big gear works much better than trying to spin. If you try to spin over cobbles you'll probably either get dropped or fall off your bike. As I grind a gear over the cobbles I try to think about my pedal stroke and use my up-stoke much more. I think it helps in stabilizing the core. Having a strong core is very important for racing over cobbles. You can tell who does and doesn't do core workouts every morning by watching people's upper body as they pedal over cobbles. Pacing longer sections of cobbles, like a smooth mountain climb, is important too. I have seen guys go too hard in the beginning of the section and then blow up and get dropped like a bag of rocks. The key to riding fast over cobbles, and I'm still working on it, is going steady, hard, and smooth.

I will never complain about rough roads in Michigan again. And I will laugh when I hear people complain about dangerous corners. I have done races here with a mini section of cobbles right through the corner! Oh, and I hope I never hear anyone ever refer to a road of laid bricks as cobbles... Not even close! In Belgium, cobblestones are the epitome of pain and I love 'em.

Happy Riding. VR

Belgium 2005, entry 5

I think of myself as a fairly flexible guy, but there is something about a solid daily routine that is so comforting, especially for an aspiring professional athlete. Although there is no day that is exactly the same as the last, much of the daily routine here at the Cycling Center stays the same. I'll now give you a brief summary of what a training day at the CC for Vince Roberge is actually like.

I wake up daily at 7:30 and take my morning measurements which include heart rate, weight, temperature, blood pressure, and morning feeling. I then go out for and hour on the bike before enjoying my cup of coffee and bowl of oatmeal. After breakfast I head over to the sun room where I do my morning stretching and core workouts. Usually I check my e-mail an absurd amount of times periodically throughout the day, one of which would be at this point. Now I should point out that many of the days here in Belgium are planned around the weather. If it's raining in the morning, some guys will hold out and ride in the afternoon, while others will just take on the rollers. I don't mind riding in poor weather so I usually head to the garage in the late morning for my ride. Fast forward through lunch, nap, and a few more e-mail checks and we arrive in what is known as Cycling Center Nothingness Time. This is the time of the day where just about everything has been taking care of and can be very dangerous for eating bad stuff from the corner store or bakery. The Cycling Center Nothingness Time is usually spent doing something different everyday. Cleaning your bike, sweeping your room, reading the Velonews your family sent you from cover to cover twice, checking your e-mail again, doing laundry, or preparing an amazing dinner that takes 2 hours are all options for this special time, the latter being the least common. During the month of July, of course, the Cycling Center Nothingness Time is usually occupied by watching the Tour live in French or Flemish. After the CCNT it usually goes something like this: dinner, core work , activity, and bed. For the first month the activity was watching a movie on the big screen, but now that most of the movies have been seen 3 times other activities are becoming popular. Video games (complements of Scott) and card games (also complements of Scott) have been the recent favorite for me. The last few nights a group of us Midwesterners have been playing the World Series of Euchre. My partner, Spa (Matt Moore), and I have been in possession of the championship belts for the entire Series (even though actual belts have yet to be made). Bed time is usually between 10:00 and 10:30, and the following day I do it again!

No day is the same here at the Cycling Center so don't base your opinion of what we do entirely on the previous paragraph. All the guys here are serious about their job and training is always the most important time of the day. I love the routine here at he Cycling Center and every day is sure to bring a new adventure or at least a lot of fun! VR

Belgium 2005, entry 4

Usually the day after a race my mind contains two topics of thought: the things I did good in the race and the things I did bad in the race. Today, the day after the Oostrozebeke Kermis, I can only think of one thing: How did I lose to an obese man on a bicycle? Yeah, I did some things good yesterday and some things bad, but how did a man, who could easily lose 40 pounds, beat me? Well, the answer is quite simple but I'm still frustrated by it. He was smarter than me. There, I said it. He was smarter than me. Yesterday I learned another important lesson of racing in Belgium. Let me break it down for you.

I saw this guy early in the race and really didn't care to much about him. He probably won't even finish, I thought to myself. He ended up making the first split which I didn't know at the time. He eventually was dropped from the lead group and as my group approached him, I though he was out of the race. When he joined our group I figured that we would drop him too. Wrong again. He sat on the back of our 12 man group for about 45 minutes. At this point I thought that he was barely hanging on and paid no attention to him. When the official called one lap to go for our group he was the least of my worries. As we continued on our final lap, I saw out of the corner of my eye this large man passing me on the far left. I picked up my speed but couldn't close the gap. Where was he getting this strength? Then it dawned on me: he had out smarted everyone there. One other guy went with him and they quickly opened a gap of around 200 meters. No one really wanted to chase, and my jaw was basically on my top tube (partly because of exhaustion, but more because of astonishment). We finished the lap and I sprinted for a top 20. My best race yet, even though I didn't finish the full distance. The moral of the story: don't judge a book by its cover, something I should have learned in kindergarten. More specifically: don't judge a Belgian by his looks, he may just be a sneaky fat man who can kick some young American's ass! -VR

Belgium 2005, entry 3

Well, I was closer than the last time. Baby steps, I keep telling myself. I guess moving slow in the right direction is better than not progressing at all. I lasted a little over 2 hours in the Kortemark Kermis, before the officials ended our small splinter group. I feel that I raced very smart and stayed out of the wind quite a bit. I was always thinking about where the wind was coming from and how much I was eating and drinking. I was using less energy in sprints out of the corners by staying closer to the bike ahead of me and also by using a slightly smaller gear. I think I really did race with a lot of brains. But where was my brawn? Everything in life requires balance, and kermis racing is no exception. I could race extremely smart everyday and fail to finish just because I didn't take that one chance that would put me up the road. I'm still trying to find that balance: Brains vs. Brawn.

In other news, I'm getting a new bike! Not entirely because I want one, but more because I need one in order to get a proper fit. I went to Frans Vanmarcke, the bike fit specialist, and left his house with quite a problem. After a couple hours of measuring my body and computing the proper sizes for my bike, he began to measure the tubes and angles of my current setup. I knew something was very wrong by the face he made after measuring my seat tube. Apparently my seat tube is 5cm too short, which is too big of a length to fix with a different seatpost, saddle, and stem. The measurements he computed for the proper frame for my body would be almost impossible to find in a frame without getting it custom made. I should, however, be able to find something very close. He said that there was no way to give me a good fit on the frame I had; the interesting fact is that my top tube length was perfect! It just goes to show that top tube length is not the only thing to look at in choosing a frame. So now I am getting a Granville, which will be much better for my body size. I can't wait to get it all set up with a perfect position by the same man who fit Eddy and Axel Merckx, Nico Mattan, Tom Steels, and many other Belgian Stars! -VR

Belgium 2005, entry 2

My stay here at the Cycling Center revolves simply around learning. I have said to many people at home that I am going to Belgium to learn and grow as a bike racer, not to win races. Throughout these first 2 weeks I have learned so much about training and racing in Belgium. I give you the list of essentials: get in a routine, stretch a lot, bring a map on training rides, avoid large towns on training rides, when you carry a rain cape it doesn't rain (so far), get to the start line early, fight for a good start position, the pace doesn't let up, watch the fast Belgians, race smart, race smart, race smart, eat, drink, eat, You can always ride harder (-BA), return your #, get 5 euros, go out and train for another 3 hours.

Obvious fact: the racing here is different than in the US. Therefore, I cannot race here like I do in the US and expect to good. If I want to do good in a local race back home, I race very aggressive and stay in the top 5 positions. In Belgium that is stupid racing. I have done two Kermis' and have failed to finish both. In order to finish a race here, I need to stay out of the wind as much as possible, race hard yet conservative, and be constantly thinking. I am still learning what racing smart in Belgium really means and hopefully I will catch on soon. I have a chance to put some of this new knowledge to use in a kermis this afternoon. I'll let you know how it goes. Thanks for reading, VR.

Belgium 2005, entry 1

If you clicked on “Vince Roberge,” then you are are at the right spot. I should probably start this dairy with a quick introduction. I don't exactly know how many people will be reading this, but I would guess most of them will know me. For you strangers out there who are just surfing around, my name is Vince Roberge and I'm from Redford, Michigan, which is just outside Detroit. I have been racing my bike for 4 years now and I am 18 years old. I feel like I am one of the luckiest guys here at the Cycling Center because of the opportunity I have to learn and race in Belgium at such a young age. I truly love this sport and am thankful to be at the center of it all here in Europe. I have thank Bernard, Ann, and all of the CC staff for giving me this great opportunity.

Now on to Week 1. I would really like to make my diary unique and fun to read, so I will be doing a lot of lists. Since my entire stay at the Cycling Center revolves around learning, I have decided to title my diary with 3 letters: T.I.L. (Things I Learned) So here we go.

Get in a routine

Stretch a lot

Bring a map on training rides

Avoid large towns on training rides

When you carry a rain cape it doesn't rain (so far)

Get to the start line early

Fight for a good start position

The pace doesn't let up

Watch the fast Belgians

Race smart. Race smart. Race smart.

Eat, drink, eat

"You can always ride harder!", B.A.

Return your #, get 5 euros

Go out and train for another 3 hours.

Thanks for reading. Until next week.

Vince