After a three week absence from the Pelladrome, it was great to be back for another Wednesday night of racing, despite the strong winds that made the backstretch a challenge. The evening was warm and sunny, with nary a cloud in the sky. About 35 riders showed up to duke it out, including WFR teammates Jason and John.
The format was same as weeks prior. The first race was a 15 minute/8 lap race for the newbies (and a warmup for the veterans). The second was a 25 minute/13 lap pursuit race, and the third was a 20 lap points race. Not counting the first race, that accounts for about 27 miles of racing…not bad training at all in the middle of the week. Cupcake primes were plentiful to make sure that the pace stayed hot.
The first race passed pleasantly enough. After the newbies got underway, we slowly rolled out. The pace was relaxed until about the 4th or 5th lap, at which point we pushed pretty hard to work the kinks out of the legs. During the surge I kept myself near the front, in about 5th wheel. After that surge, the pace slowed to a crawl again and we rode out the remainder of the “race” together.
As soon as the whistle blew to start the first race, John Mahr grabbed a moment of glory and took a flyer off the front. A few riders gave chase, but he stayed away for most of the first lap. I found myself in the unenviable position of leading into the wind for a couple of the early laps. Sometimes it is fun to be the “tip of the spear,” but into a stiff wind…not so much. A cupcake prime was called on the 4th lap, and with that the preliminary niceties were over. Psimet had a good presence tonight, and on this 4th lap they surged en masse to the front of the field and set a blistering pace. My legs were taking a while to come around underneath me, and I had to hang on for dear life. I figured that they would spend a few laps trying to separate the wheat from the chaff and then would relax the pace a bit, but they never let up. Another sugar-laden prime was called on the 10th lap, and this is where I started to come unglued. After the prime spring, coming out of Turn One the front of the field surged even more and I waved goodbye as they gained a decent gap on me. On the backstretch, I stood up and jammed on the pedals, desperately hoping that I could gain ground as they slowed down in to the headwind, but I just couldn’t close the gap. I rode out the remaining laps by myself and rolled meekly across the line.
I rolled back to the car to grab a fresh bottle. Someone had a radio on and tuned in to the Hawks/Flyers game. The game was scoreless as we were called back to the line for race number three.
The points race started out pretty mellow, but it didn’t take long to ramp up to full speed. I found myself behind Illinois State Champion Jessi Prinner and figured that I should stay glued to her wheel as long as possible. I hung out toward the back of the for the first 10 laps, conserving as much energy as possible and hanging on throughout the points and prime sprints. About midway through the race, as we zipped past the start/finish, it was announced that the Hawks were tied 1-1 with the Flyers.
I stayed within the front 5-10 riders for most of the remainder of the race. With about 5 laps to go, my calves started to feel like they could cramp up at any moment, which is a less than pleasant feeling. I gulped some Gatorade and hoped for the best. As we entered the backstretch with two laps to go, I found myself in 2nd wheel position. Halfway down the stretch, the lead rider pulled aside. I got hit with the wind and it was like getting slapped in the face. My legs were completely sapped and rather than taking the pull I drifted left to let the field come through. The rider right behind me chastised me, saying “take a pull, there are only 2 laps to go…it isn’t going to kill you!” I’ll admit that he was right, and I was ashamed of my cop-out. I had nothing left, however, and was still on the verge of cramping. I figured it was better to just get out of the way than force everyone to maneuver around me as I dragged my lead anchor behind me. I reinserted myself somewhere midway through the field and hung on. Jason appeared out of nowhere and moved himself up toward the front of the field. It all fell apart for me, as it usually does, during the bell lap. Again, the main surge occurred right out of Turn One, and the just rode away from me, despite my best efforts to hang on. I rolled in alone, closing out another fine night of racing at the Pelladrome. A Stanley Cup victory for the Blackhawks just a few hours later put the cherry on top of the evening.
All in all, the racing this evening was a lot cleaner than it was three weeks ago. Only once did I have a rider drift into me, and a simple “whoa, whoa, whoa” was enough to make him realize the error of his ways. I’m glad to hear that these races will be continuing throughout the summer, and I look forward to attending as many as possible Thank you ABD and Pella!
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