ABD Training Crits, May 19, West Chicago, IL

Kudos to ABD for putting on another great mid-week evening of racing, and to Pella for allowing us to spend another night zipping around the “Pelladrome.” It was a beautiful evening for turning the pedals in anger…temps were in the low 70s to high 60s, with gentle breezes. After taking 6 warm-up laps and downing half of a Clif Bar, I rolled to the line with about 35-40 riders. Kev and Chris had other commitments tonight, so Jason and I were the only WFR riders. Most of the field was was in the “B” (Cat 4/5) group, with about 8-10 “A” (Cat 1/2/3) riders.

The first race was 8 laps. The experienced riders let the newbie group get a gap on us before we started rolling up to speed. This first race of the night is really a race in name only. Everyone uses it mostly as a warm-up, and it wasn’t until the last few laps that we started to put the hammer down a little bit. I probably pushed a bit too hard on this warm-up race, but it felt good to be sitting right at the front and putting in a good effort. I led into the windy stretches on the 4th lap, and again on the last lap. When the final sprint came I just rode it in.

After a cool-down lap, it was right back to the line again for the 2nd race of the evening. This one was a 25 minute race with numerous primes for homemade brownies thrown in. The B group was given about and half-lap start before the A’s were unleashed to chase us down, which they did in pretty short order. Until that point, however, any “brownie primes” were solely for the B’s. Jason went for one of these primes, but was narrowly pipped at the line. The pace was fast, but I felt good. The burning lungs that had plagued me at the Monsters of the Midway Criterium were a thing of the past, my heart rate was well under control, and my legs were having no problem keeping up with the surges.

I do have to own up to making one stupid decision. Toward the end of the race, we came around the start/finish and the official was ringing the bell. As I zipped past I could have sworn I heard him saying “bell lap, bell lap.” The pace quickened, and I moved myself toward the front. As we came into the finishing stretch, there were about 5 guys ahead of me standing and mashing on the pedals. So, I did likewise, coming across the line in 6th place. However, as I sped past the official he announced “two to go, two to go.” Aw, crap…apparently I need to have my hearing checked! The pace intensified yet again, but I was able to hang on for those final two laps and finish with the field.

The third race was a 20 lap “points” contest with a sprint every 4 laps. As if that didn’t keep the pace hot enough, it seemed that every other lap was a prime lap (for water bottles, brownies, and t-shirts). And make no mistake, this was a crazy fast race. Still, my heart and lungs felt good, and I could even manage somewhat of a normal conversation. Early on in the race, the Bicycle Heaven rider who I had worked with for a brief stretch during the Leland Kermesse (sorry, I haven’t yet caught your name!) was on my wheel and called out “Hey Pinchy, you left me at Leland and broke my heart!” We chatted briefly about how brutal that race had been. I owned up to quitting after one lap, whereas he had toughed it out through the gale-force winds for all four laps, mostly by himself. That takes a lot of strength, both physical and mental.

Unfortunately, there was a lot of sketchy riding in this 3rd race. I know these are training crits, but there are still too many experienced riders making moves without looking, and not holding a straight line even on long, straight sections. One particular rider continuously bobs and weaves like a boxer in a prizefight.

The scariest moment of the night came about half-way through. On the stretch right before the start/finish straightaway, a rider in a red kit was on the far right and going backwards. Just as I was passing him, a xXx starts to dive to the right, directly into my path. I hit the gas and narrowly squeaked through, but it could have been ugly. A short time later, an ABD rider made a similar move. As he started diving into me I screamed “on your right, on your right!” Followed by a rather blasphemous bit of profanity.

During the final lap, I moved up the left side of the field and inserted myself into the top 5. I managed to stay there almost all the way to the final sprint, but some riders started to come around me. When we hit the final straightaway I tried to shift down one more cog, but there was no where left to go on the cassette. I stood up and accelerated to a full sprint, picking off a few riders here and there and ending up (I think) somewhere within the top 10.

It appears that the good folks at Pella are going to keep letting us use their facility, and ABD is going to keep organizing these races throughout the summer. This is great news for those of us who are simply unable to make it to the Tuesday night crits in Matteson. A huge “thank you” in advance to both organizations for making this happen!

Monsters of the Midway Criterium, Chicago, IL, May 15, 2010

I was really on the fence this year about racing this one. Last year’s sketchy crash-fest ended with my brother landing on his face and going home with 7 stitches. After much vacillating, I finally decided to take off the skirt and register. Earlier this week, my body asked me “are you really sure you want to race?” I came down with a sore throat, which by Friday had moved into my lungs and sinuses. Whereas I usually like to do a moderate ride the day before a race, I had been off of the bike since Monday. Still, my runny nose and congested lungs wasn’t enough to keep me from loading in the gear and making the trip into Chicago.

The day was overcast with medium winds. Regular readers will remember that the course is a 1.1 mile, rectangular 4-turn course with two half-mile straightaways along the Midway Plaisance at the University of Chicago. 72 riders rolled to the line for our 40 minute Cat 4 race. Kev and I were the only WFR riders, along with good representation from xXx, ABD, South Chicago Wheelmen, Half Acre, Spidermonkey, Psimet, and a host of others. Our wives had made the trip, and secured a place by the start/finish to cheer us on.

It was hot right from the whistle, and it never slowed down. We accelerated up to well over 30 miles an hour along the half-mile straightaways, only to scrub about half of that speed as we negotiated the quick turns at the ends of the rectangle. And then the harsh acceleration back up to 30+ mph. Lather, rinse, repeat.

This “caterpillar effect” was, as always, worse at the back of the field. Unfortunately, this is where I spent the entire day. My mind told me that it would be better if I could just throw myself up to the front, but my legs just wouldn’t go along with the program. Two laps in and I heard Kev’s voice over my shoulder, telling me “you’ve got to move up…get up there!” If only. My ill health was causing my lungs to perform a nice slow burn, and my legs just couldn’t generate the power to move up.

After what seemed like an eternity, I looked at the lap counter as we came around the start/finish and saw that we still had 11 laps left. I did my best to block out the defeatist thinking, but a small part of me said “holy cow, I don’t know if I can do this.” I had to stand on the pedals and jam out of the corners every time we turned into the long straightaways. Half of that length would be the struggle to move up into the field, and the second half would be spent trying to get a drink and rest up for the same effort going into the next straightaway.

A couple of primes were thrown in here and there, but we were already moving so fast that the change in pace was barely noticeable. That, or people just weren’t all that geeked to sprint for a loaf of bread. At some point I saw Kev sitting back in the field, but he was shed off the back a short time later. Little did I know that we were moving so fast that we lapped him three times during the race. To his credit, he toughed it out by himself and finished. I’m not so sure that I would have had the mental toughness to do that.

Fortunately, people were riding a lot safer than last year. Sketchy moves were minimal, and only once did I have to shout out “on your right, on your right” to someone drifting into my path. As we came around with two laps to go, I was finally beginning to believe that the race would end safely and that I could finish with the pack.

Sadly, neither was to be. Halfway through the backstretch, the field was spread across the width of the road. As I was settling into the back of the field, I heard the distinctive sound of the crunching of bikes going down and the scraping of metal sliding across pavement. Cries of “crash…CRASH!” shattered the air. The carnage started on the far right side of the field and worked its way left across the entire field. I had to scrub all speed and narrowly avoided being taken down three separate times. I kept threading the needle, and the third time I had to clip out, put my left foot down, and push myself around the downed riders. I clipped back in, hearing the loud moaning of the unfortunates. Someone was yelling “stop…stop…help them!” I felt bad, but these things are best left to the professionals. As I came around the start/finish to begin the final lap, I caught up with Kev. As I passed Stephanie and Kim, I gave the “thumbs up” to let them know that I hadn’t been involved. Kev and I rode most of the last lap together, happy that neither of us had been taken down. I managed a weak smile as I crossed the finish line.

Out of 72 riders who started, only 54 finished. Of those 54 finishers, I took 40th. Although I have yet to post any spectacular finishes, it has been quite a while since I have been one of those riders desperately hanging on to the back, hoping not to get popped. Usually I can sit in the front quarter of the field, only to fade into mediocrity during the final lap. I console myself with the knowledge that my health was far from 100%, and I look forward to getting back out there. Next up are the last of the Wednesday night ABD training crits.

ABD Training Crits Week 2, West Chicago, IL, May 5, 2010

Having had to miss the first of four weeks of training crits put on by ABD at the West Chicago “Pelladrome,” I was excited about rolling to the line for the 2nd week of racing. Kev had been the sole WFR representative the week before and had given a “thumbs up” to the experience. I wasn’t so excited, however, about the gusting winds, but hoped that the field would be large enough to hide in.

The course is the same venue used last year for the first of the “Fall Fling” races. It is next to the Pella factory in West Chicago (hence the “Pelladrome” designation). With the exception of one 90-degree turn right after the start/finish, the rest of the course is a large, 0.8 mile oval with smooth pavement.

After pinning my number and downing half of a Clif Bar, I rolled off for a few warm-up laps. In hindsight, I should have skipped this step. Fighting the wind on the backstretch, even at a warm-up pace and in the small chainring, took just a little bit out of the legs that I could have put to better use later in the evening . Plus, the first race turned out to be nothing more than a relatively easy 15-minute warmup anyway.

Race One, a 15 minute / 6 lap race, was solely for the benefit of the beginners. They were whistled off and the rest of us, acting as “pack fodder,” followed at a 20-second interval. The pace was mellow so as to avoid overtaking the newbies, and was a good opportunity to warm up the legs some more while being able to hide a bit from the wind. Some guys started to push the pace a bit during the second half of the race, and got a little distance on the field, but I had no intention of getting gassed too early in the headwind.

Race Two, a 25-minute / 13 lap race, was where the real action began. I was joined at the line by fellow WFR rider Jason R. The “A” group of about 12 to 15 Cat 1/2/3 riders were whistled off, and then the 30 or so “B” riders (the Cat 4/5 group) was unleashed 20 seconds later. Kev mentioned that last week there was an immediate jump by some riders to bridge up to the A group, but it didn’t happen this week. The field was pretty content to ride out the first few laps at a manageable pace. There were some surges here and there, but no real attacks. I kept myself in the front 5-10 riders at all times. A “cookie prime” was called as we came around for lap 6. I did not plan on gassing myself for a Costco cookie, so I just sat in with the field. Shortly after turning out of the headwind, a Psimet rider and an ABD rider took off to contest the sprint, and from my vantage point in the field it appeared that Psimet took it. The duo showed no signs of wanting to re-integrate with the field, and we spent the next two laps chasing them down. Another prime lap was called on lap 9, and again on lap 11. I hung on with the surges and kept myself safe from the wind within the field.

On the back stretch of the bell lap, I was sitting comfortably in about 6th position. I then felt a hand bump into my right hindquarters…a rider wearing an “Australia” jersey was trying to sneak into a hole that really wasn’t there. The end result was that I got pushed out into the wind for the whole of the backstretch, sapping needed energy that I could have used for the sprint. As we came around for the sprint, I had no jump whatsoever. I gave what I could, and spotted Jason flying around my left side for his 5th place finish. I probably rolled in somewhere within the top 10. All in all, not too bad.

After a cool-down lap I rolled back to the car, grabbed a fresh bottle and downed the 2nd half of that Clif Bar. Then it was back to the line.

Race Three was a 12 lap race with a sprint on every 4th lap. Everyone was whistled off at the same time, and the pace was pretty hot from the get-go. Again, I worked pretty hard to keep myself within the front quarter of the field, up with the A riders. The biggest surges were out of turn one, as we were exposed to the crosswind. As long as you could stay with that surge, you could keep yourself protected once you turned into the headwind.

A prime was called as soon as we came around for the second lap, and again I had no intention of contesting this. On the backstretch I got pushed to the outside by a rider in a full pro team kit. I instantly hit the gas and flew back around him and inserted myself into the front of the field. I refuse to get pushed aside by a rider who is not only wearing the full kit of a pro team that hasn’t even existed for four years, but who was wearing a fanny pack during the race!

To make a long story short, I hung with lead group for first 7 laps, then blew up on the backstretch. I watched helplessly as the front of the field rode away from me as I silently pleaded with my legs to bridge back up to them. It just wasn’t in the cards this evening. I found myself working with an ABD rider and one of the A group riders. With 4 laps to go we caught up with Jason and continued to work together. With 3 to go, I pulled our group along for the entire lap …ABD steadfastly hung onto my wheel and didn’t make any attempt to relieve me, even when I drifted right to let him come around. As we came around with 2 to go, Jason put me out of my misery and sprinted to the front…I grabbed onto his wheel, with ABD still resolutely glued to mine. Jason led the entire lap, and then we were down to the bell lap. ABD finally took the lead on the backstretch, and I hid from the wind as best as I could. The pace ramped up coming out of turn 3, and it was every man for himself. As I watched Jason and ABD hurl themselves toward the line, I pushed as hard as I could to fend off the riders coming up behind me.

In short, it was good to get in some solid mid-week racing, now that I am unable to make it down to the Matteson Tuesday Night Crits. This series is “confirmed” through May 19, but let’s hope that they can keep it going all summer