When Downers Grove decided to not host the Criterium National Championships for the first time in over 20 years, Glencoe picked up the slack. Much like Downers, it was a technical, 10-corner course with a short (but challenging) hill. With the only Masters option for 30+ being a 1/2/3/4 race, I demurred and chose to mix it up with the young Cat 4s for a 45-minute race.
Kev and I, the only WFR representatives, carpooled up to Glencoe and set up the trainers in a parking lot next to the train tracks. In the course of a 30 minute warmup, I think that I sweated out the equivalent of half of my body weight. I could have wrung out my jersey when we were finished. Fortunately, I had brought a fresh jersey in which to race.
Once the Masters 40+ 1/2/3/4 riders were finished, we were let out onto the course for a warmup lap. The pavement looked to be decent (a few manhole covers here and there, but nothing to worry about), but some of those corners sure looked tight. As Kev and I rolled around to the start finish, we found ourselves stuck at the back of the field. My rear tire was literally the farthest back in the field of close to 100 riders. Crap.
The field strung out right from the whistle. I tried to jump up as far as I could, but still was probably 3/4 of the way back. The pace was furious until we hit each corner, at which point we had to slam on the brakes and then accelerate back up to speed. I found myself a few bike lengths behind another rider, and heard a voice over my shoulder say "are you going to close that gap?" I said "I'll try," stepped on the gas, and grabbed onto that wheel.
The hill was not as steep as the hill at Downers, but was a bit longer and did not have the benefit of being followed by a long descent. I knew from the first time up it that it was going to be problematic. Hills and I don't get along.
Two laps in and I was already starting to question how this day was going to turn out. I kept drifting back, working with whatever group I could for as long as I could before falling off the pace and grabbing onto a new group. About 10 minutes in I heard Kev yelling encouragement at me from the side of the road. I hadn't seen him since the start, but suddenly became aware that his day was done. At one point I was working with Bryan from Bicycle Heaven and a few other riders, but they lost me on the hill. At the end, it was just me and a rider from Half Acre. As we came around to the start/finish at the 20-minute mark, the race official stepped out into the middle of the road and crossed his chest with his arms. Game over, man, game over. I can't even remember the last time that I had been involuntarily pulled from a race...
What a horrendous day. In the final analysis, hills and heat just don't make for a good combination for me. I'm sure there will be a few ABD Wednesday night crits to hit before the leaves start to fall, plus a few of the Fall Fling races, but I can already feel the season winding down.
