Here you sit in the middle of a 47-mile jaunt in the heart of Massachusetts, on the pointy end of what many pedestrians would consider to be an impossibly uncomfortable seat.

You could be standing, dancing tiptoed on the bicycle's pedals if it's your climbing style, during the ascent you realize that nothing about this is pedestrian.

Not the pace, not the fact that this is your third day of racing in three days, with one more to go. And definitely not the effort you're putting into "turning the screws."

But faster than the lactic acid that's collected in your legs can tell your mind that it's absolutely out of itself, you become one. Your brakes are rubbing against the rear wheel, and there's nothing you can do besides curse the racer who caused it by bumping your wheel, or hop off and fix it.

It's a quick repair, yet with the pack snaking away, your chance of finishing anywhere near the top of the general classification is shrinking as rapidly as the race leader appears to be.

Erik Turner, a senior at Penn State and member of Penn State's cycling club, found himself in this position earlier this month racing at the 46th annual Fitchburg Longsjo Classic in Fitchburg, Mass.

A racer on many weekends during the summer, Turner will have other chances to place well. Besides, he will say that he would have ended up a caboose to the Men's Category 4 pack on that day, anyway.

"I would've been shelled off on the final climb," Turner said. "At least that's what I tell myself now. I would've been hurting either way."

Turner spoke of the last few miles of the 47-mile Unitil Road Race, the third stage of the Fitchburg Classic. The field circled an 11.4-mile loop 4 times before it finished on the summit of Wachusett Mountain.

But the cherry on top meant ascending a portion featuring 14 percent grade for roughly three-quarters of a mile. It's not exactly like trying to ride up a flight of stairs, but it is enough to cause a few conundrums.

"It's a pretty infamous course. I just barely made it up," Turner said.

That's not to say that Turner was not motivated, or mailed in the performance. No one could suffer up a finishing climb that forced racers off their bikes and on their feet.

Up until the third stage, Turner was positioned well to place high. He took eighth place in the first stage, a seven-mile time trial, with a time of 16:19. That would be good enough to sit just 39 seconds behind the leader for the beginning of Stage 2, a circuit race.

Not much changed in the general classification -- or GC -- after two stages. Turner still found himself sitting eighth, still 39 seconds behind the race leader. GC placement was determined in Tour de France fashion -- each stage is timed, and the rider who completes all the stages in the least amount of time wins.

The time trial was a good opener for establishing time gaps, but the winner of Stage 2 won by three seconds over a group of 106 riders, who were all credited with the same time. It was a static day before a hell of a shock to the field.

"Everyone seemed to know what was coming the next day," Turner said.

Unfortunately, Turner could not have seen his misfortune coming, or the rider who caused it. He also could not power his way back into the field's slipstream, finished 15 minutes behind the stage winner and dropped to 106th place overall.

"The hardest part to close is that very last part," Turner said. "Once you get off the back it's so hard to get back on."

One might say that as long as there are roads to race on, there will be no real shortage of races to enter. Turner aims to add to a growing portfolio of results that includes a ninth-place finish at Snitger's Cycling Classic on May 29 and a 35th-place finish in the late April Habitat for Humanity Circuit Race.

One event in specific Turner is aiming to do well at is the International Tour de Toona, a stage race around Altoona later this month. Parts of it will demand that he can't rely on his favorite race strategy - to do as little work as possible.

"You have to push yourself threw a few levels of pain at the beginning of a race. There's definitely times when I'm like, 'What am I doing here? I could be on a couch watching a movie.' "

All of this is a virtual turnaround from earlier this year, when an injured right knee forced Turner out of most of the collegiate road racing season in the spring. He could tape it up, but could ride neither hard nor often enough to be competitive.

For a racer whose first season was the 2004 college season, it was a disappointment to be sidelined. However, in races this summer and the upcoming Tour de Toona, Turner has taken part in something of a reunion with other members of the Penn State cycling club, which won the 2005 East Coast Cycling Conference Division I championship.

Turner raced with Andy Munas and Ben Miller, who were dominant in the Men's B category during the 2005 college season, at Habitat for Humanity.

Sarah Bickerstaff, a women's A racer for Penn State in the collegiate season, won the Tour of Historic Marietta on June 11 and started the prestigious Wachovia Liberty Classic in Philadelphia the weekend before.

Dynaflo Racing, a cycling squad from Sinking Spring, is flooded with current or former Penn State club members. One member, Lou Devlin, has scored a host of top-20 finishes this season. It seems that wherever the flag drops, there's a Nittany Lion in the group.

Turner still has to tape his knee, a tricky measure in these hot and humid months. For all the suffering that is involved with road racing, one wonders how he, or any other racer, can do it weekend after weekend. Why chance the back luck or conditions, and put yourself through all the training to have another racer play bumper cars and ruin your day?

"It's addicting," Turner said. "Every time I go out for a training ride in the rain, I realize how addicted I am. It's just as addicting as crack."

And if after a crash, perhaps just as expensive.

But Turner's in it for the long haul. He plans on moving up from Category 4 to Category 3 at the end of the season, and plans to race as long as he can at that level.

In between his pre-race warm-up and the delirium of pushing his body to its limits, he looks to the 40-year-old men who have put on the suit of middle age but haven't yet taken off the lycra.

"I know I'll be up there when I'm that old," he said.

Taped knee and all.