Kenosha Velosport Spring Training Criterium #2, Pleasant Prairie, WI, March 18, 2012

Well, today felt like a step back.

We lucked out yet again with another unseasonably beautiful day for mid-March. Temps were in the low 70s with plenty of sunshine. Plenty of wind to go along with it, too, but I suppose that is a given.

Just like last weekend, I raced both the Masters 30/39 race and the Cat race. My plan for the Masters was just to sit in and get a respectable finish while keeping myself as fresh as possible for a strong finish in the Cat 4.

MASTERS 30/39

The 25-rider field started out a lot mellower than last week, but was surprisingly squirrely for an experienced field. On the 2nd lap a Velocause rider almost took me out when he made a quick move to the right without even looking. I had to swerve to the right, and fortunately my path was clear. But, yeah, I swore a little bit.

At 10 minutes in the attacks started coming fast and hard. I stayed with them, and at about the 26 minute mark I ended up in a 2-man break with a Velocause rider. That lasted a couple laps, and then we got absorbed. Instantly some more attacks came, and at that point I was just hanging on for dear life. At the 32 minute mark I got popped but got absorbed in a group of 6 or 7 other riders. With a few laps to go we caught back on to the field, but just barely. I blew up hard on the last lap and ended up dangling off of the main field. I ended up taking 17th out of 25, and could only hope that I had saved enough in the tank for the 4s race.

CAT 4

After a nice between-race warmup, teammate David Ross and I rolled to the line to find ourselves in a 10-man field. I am not kidding.

Seriously, what is going on? Here it was, an unbelievably warm, sunny day, with good racing a mere hour or so away from Chicagoland, and we had 10 guys show up for a Cat 4 race? Hung over from St. Patrick's Day? Afraid of being involved in a bad crash like last weekend? I don't get it.

But I digress. The official sent us off for our 35-minute race, and two KV riders led us around the course for the first lap. When lap 2 came around I did the gentlemanly thing and moved to the front to take a pull. I led for the entire lap, at which point I moved to the right to let someone else pull through. No one did. So, I figured "what the heck, lets do another one" and led for the entire 3rd lap. As we turned out of the start/finish, I moved to the right yet again. And no one came through. No matter what I did, or how much I slowed, I could not get anyone to pull through. I could almost here the pack say "no thanks, we like you right where you are."

After another lap of this, Dave came to the front and relieved me. Still, I was never further back than 3rd wheel. Eventually a Colavita rider came around, and we spent the better part of the race working together at the front. No one else did a thing until with about 8 minutes to go a Team Plus rider spent a few laps at the front.

With two to go, it was me and Colavita marking each other. We were still in the lead halfway through the last lap. About 3/4 of the way down the backstretch, he jumped. The riders that were just biding their time started streaming past me on the left. I was tapped out. I fought as hard as I could but had nothing. A Pegasus rider came around me shortly before the line, and there I was...the lantern rouge. A top 10 finish feels pretty cheap when you finish DFL in 10th.

Dave had another strong showing, though, taking 2nd, so another great result for him and the team. I'm betting we'll be seeing him in the Cat 3 field before this season is over.

So, it was a disappointing day, but lessons were definitely learned. Family is coming in from out of town, so I won't be able to make it up for the 3rd and final weekend of these races. Up next is the Burnham Super Spring Criterium at the Blackhawk Farms Speedway in South Beloit on March 31. I missed this race last year, since it was just days after our son was born. I'm looking forward to being out there again for the morning Cat 4/5 race and the afternoon Cat 4 race.

Tour de Villas, Des Plaines, IL, July 2, 2011

Despite my dislike of all things hot and humid, I headed out in 90+ degree heat for 30 minutes of Cat 4 action at the Tour de Villas. The course is a perfect oval in a residential area of Des Plaines…think Sherman Park, but with better pavement and less crime.

Given the complete and utter lack of anything even remotely resembling a “turn,” I knew that this would be a shootout from start to finish.

I arrived at the course with plenty of time to spare, only to find out that all races were running at least 45 minutes behind. So now I really had plenty of time to spare. Super. I hooked up with fellow Bicycle Heaven teammates Bryan and Jim, and we did some easy warm-up laps on the smaller “inner oval.” We were also joined by Psimet chief Rob Curtis and some of his men. After a while, we took a break to watch Matt take 3rd in the 30+ race. Matt’s girlfriend Mara took 2nd in the women’s 4/5 race, so it was shaping up to be a great day for Bicycle Heaven.

After some more time spent warming up, we rolled to the line. 37 riders took off from the whistle, and the pace was pretty mellow, at first. After a lap spent at about 21 mph, we soon ramped it up into the 26-27 mph range. I found the tempo to be very manageable. Despite the heat, I was feeling good, but was very sure to drink every chance I got. Any time I felt that I was too far back I was easily able to move up the side of the field and insert myself back into the lead riders. Since there were no turns to speak of, there was never the whiplash/caterpillar effect. Although the race was mostly clean, there were a few profanity-inducing moments. Late in the race an unattached rider in a Hawaii triathlon jersey moved left without looking and almost took out my front wheel, bringing on a mild bout of blasphemy. A few minutes later, a Tati rider did the same thing. Please, people, look before you make a move! Criterium 101, truly.

With about 4 laps to go, I heard the sound of the moto tailing the pack, and knew that I needed to get back to the front. As we roared past the start/finish I sprinted up the left side and ducked back in right next to Bryan, announcing my presence. At one point during the next few laps I realized that I didn’t see Bryan anymore, and wondered where he went (turns out he flatted with two laps to go, ending his day).

Halfway through the final lap, I was sitting in third wheel position and hoping for a great finish. However, as is my wont, I wasn’t able to maintain position during the surge and ended up taking only 14th. A solid, but unimpressive, result.

Next up is the Geneva Grand Prix, sponsored by Bicycle Heaven and one of the first races of the phenomenon known as Superweek. 20 miles of pain and suffering through the quaint streets of Geneva…I can’t wait.

Cobb Park Criterium, Kankakee, IL, June 18, 2011

After the debacle at last week’s criterium in Galena, I sought to do a little penance at Cobb Park. I had only pre-registered for the 12:00 Masters 30+ 4/5 race, but then I received an email the night before that the 11:10 Women’s 3 race was being replaced by an open Cat 4/5 race. So, I decided to double up and do one race right after the other.

The forecast called for scattered thunderstorms at race time, and as I warmed up on the trainer the clouds thickened and the wind increased. The sun won out, however, and the weather was perfect for racing.

I had raced here two years ago, and at that time we went around the 0.70 mile course counter-clockwise. This year, however, we were doing it clockwise…which I had no problem with, since the two-block long uphill from 2009 now became a two-block long downhill. Two thumbs up to that!

Open 4/5

30 riders rolled to the line for the 30-minute Open 4/5 race. As soon as the whistle blew, one of the Tati women flew off the front. A rider bridged up to her and together they held the field at bay for a few laps as we chased them down. Immediately I knew that this wouldn’t be a repeat of last weekend. I felt relaxed, and my legs were comfortably managing the tempo. I was able to easily maintain my position in front for most of the race, sitting anywhere from 4th to 6th wheel the whole time. It felt great to go bombing through the sweeping right-hand turn into the start/finish straightaway after the long downhill without touching the brakes.

Shortly after the first attack by Team Tati, another of their women launched an attack. She didn’t stay away, but it was clear that the riders in orange had every intention to race aggressively. One prime was called about midway through the race. A few riders got a gap on the field and duked it out for whatever they were giving away, but then let themselves be absorbed back into the peloton after the sprint, rather than seeing if they could keep the gap.

It was a very clean race…from where I sat, at least. Everyone was riding smart, and for the most part we were gruppo compatto. Even the chicane in turn two didn’t cause any drama, and there were no high-speed wipeouts on the fast corner after the downhill.

When the sprint came at the end, I gave it my all and ended up finishing 14th.

Masters 30+ 4/5

After a quick cool-down lap, I had just enough time to pull of my jersey, pin on my new number, suck down some Gatorade and a hit of honey (the poor man’s Gu), and roll back to the line. This time there were 50 of us ready to do battle. I still felt pretty fresh after the last race, so I went into those one with high hopes of being able to pull off a decent finish.

We had to start off with a neutral lap to allow an ambulance onto the course. For once, though, the ambulance was responding to a house call and not to a fallen rider.

After reassembling at the line, we were whistled off for another 30 minutes of aggression. The pace was faster than the last race, and the bigger field meant that we had to negotiate the turns and the chicane anywhere from 2 to 4 riders wide. Being surrounded by greater numbers meant that there was a bit more of the whiplash slowing and accelerating through some of the turns. Whereas in the first race I was able to negotiate the final turn without hitting the brakes, I often had to feather them this time around to make some minor adjustments to my speed.

Also, because of the greater numbers and the more aggressive riding, it was more difficult to maintain my position than it had been during the previous race. However, I was mostly able to keep myself up within the front third of the peloton. If I found myself slipping back, I would use either the start/finish straightaway or the long downhill to zip up the side of the field and back into a more favorable position. I was still feeling good, ad the legs were doing everything that I asked them to do.

I didn’t have the greatest position when the final sprint came. An 11-tooth cog would have been a big help, but sadly I was maxed out on my 12. Still, I was able to outgun a South Chicago Wheelmen rider and snag an 18th place finish.

So, I ended my day with two solid, if unremarkable, finishes. I felt great, and ended up doing six times more racing than I had managed at Galena (60 minutes’ worth as opposed to 10 minutes). South Chicago Wheelmen put on a great day of racing, and I look forward to returning next year.

Tour of Galena Criterium, Galena, IL, June 12, 2011

What could make a person drive almost 5 hours, round-trip, for a 30 minute bike race? For starters, the fact that this particular bike race is in Galena…the quaint mining town that was once home to General Ulysses S. Grant, and where President Lincoln once delivered a speech from the balcony of the DeSoto House. Having grown up about an hour away from Galena, it was the destination for many family trips over the years, as well as my 8th grade class field trip (and don’t ask what year that was, thank you very much).

So it was with much excitement when the Tour of Galena omnium was announced. Although I opted to skip both the time trial (I just don’t do ‘em) and the road race (hills and I don’t get along very well), I really anticipated the chance to race the criterium in the historic downtown area.

In hindsight, I should have stayed a tourist.

The course was, for lack of a better description, an elongated 0.7 mile teardrop, with a bottleneck on the backstretch leading into a really tight hairpin left turn going into the start/finish straightaway. I knew that this would string out field and subject the poor saps at the back to a dramatic caterpillar effect as the guys at the front hammered out of the turn. As I sat at the line with about 25 other riders, I told myself to get to, and stay up at, the front.

However, sometimes there is a disconnect between making the body do what the mind is telling it that it should do. I started off with great position, but let too many guys drift around me in the early stages of lap one. Perhaps I was a bit too tentative on the brick pave to be found in the sweeping left hand turn shortly after leaving the start/finish. Whatever the cause, I soon found myself way to far back. I should have expended some extra energy early on to get back to the front. That is an easy thing to say, but a hard thing to do. Especially when I realized that my legs felt like lead. I had nothing.

Just as I expected, the riders at the front just absolutely drilled it coming out of the hairpin turn. There was a speed display at the start/finish and I noticed during the 2nd lap (when I was still tenuously with the field) that we were zipping through at 27 mph. Every time we came out of that hairpin I had to stand up and mash on the pedals as best as I could to either stay with, or catch back onto, the peloton.

Well, to make a long story short, I found myself off the back at only six minutes into the race. It is very demoralizing to have the rear moto buzz past you as you suck wind. A South Chicago Wheelman rider grabbed on to my wheel, but with as fast as the field was going on such a short-distance course, there was no chance of us being able to work together sufficiently to catch back on. Not the way I was feeling, at least. And, sure enough, as we came around to the start/finish after 10 minutes, there was the friendly official with whistle in mouth to usher us off of the course.

In a fit of pique I grabbed my wheels from the pit and headed back to the car. Although I really should have stuck around and cheered on my teammate Bryan to his 11th place finish (sorry, Bryan!), I couldn’t stomach watching the rest of the race. I changed and wandered over to the Kandy Kitchen, a family favorite over those many years, to pick up some of the best malted milk balls in the world (I swear that the chocolate surrounding the malt ball is half an inch thick).

I thought that I had done everything right. I had done an easy-to-moderate 30 mile ride on Saturday to open the legs up. I hadn’t participated in the grueling road race the day before that many of the others in the field had raced. I got to the course early and got in a good warmup. The temps were mild and the winds were moderate (although you could feel them on that backstretch).

I hadn’t involuntarily DNF’d since Glencoe last August, and it is a horrible feeling. I knew that my training this season would take a back seat to the new addition to our family, and very rightly so. Still, I have been able to put in more miles than I thought that I would, and have been posting up some decent, if unspectacular, results. Which makes it that much harder to get pulled from a race. For some insane reason, the official race results show me finishing in 25th place. But I know better. I “finished” mo more than Mozart finished his Requiem, or Gilbert Stuart his portrait of George Washington.

Hopefully I can redeem myself at Cobb Park next weekend. Stay tuned…

Ronald Reagan Criterium, Dixon, IL, May 7, 2011

The 3rd annual edition of the Ronald Reagan Criterium marked the first time that I had participated in this race. A large part of my prior avoidance of this race was the fact that I knew it had some hills to it. Despite 4 years of training and racing in the Bay Area of California, Stephen and hills (at least at race speeds) simply don’t mix. But after sissying out on the Leland Kermesse, I had some penance to do. So, with a spiffy, newly-redesigned team kit in hand I headed over to Dixon.

The forecast had called for showers and moderate winds at race time, but fortunately the precipitation never materialized. Also, we were relatively well sheltered from the wind in downtown Dixon. Temps were pretty warm, so for the first time this season I rode sans arm and/or leg warmers.

The course was a figure-8 around the downtown area. After making a few right-hand turns we would be faced with a 2-block grinding uphill, with a couple of other, shorter “kicker” inclines before coming around to the start/finish again.

I can honestly say that this was the first race I have been in at which the field was treated to a history lesson at the line. The announcer went on for several minutes about the life story of our 40th president before we received final instructions and were whistled off by the official.

So, with Accept’s “Balls to the Wall” bouncing around in my head (very un-Reaganesque, I might say), I rolled off of the line with 34 other riders for the Masters 30+ 4/5 race. I was the only Bicycle Heaven representative in the field, along with a good showing from Psimet, xXx, Half Acre, Flatlandia, and others.

I was surprised to find myself feeling pretty good the first time going up the hill…and the next time, and the next. I worked really hard to shut the pessimistic “yeah, but just wait until the next time…or the 10th time” thoughts out of my head. As for the rest of the course, there were some rough areas of pavement, but for the most part the corners were wide open and everyone rode pretty safely. There was not (to my knowledge, at least) a single crash in the race. I didn’t even witness any near-misses.

After only 3 or 4 laps of “counting up the time,” the officials started counting down the laps. The first announcement that I remember was “13 to go!” I started using a mental trick that I picked up from my teammate Bryan on a recent training ride of sprint repeats up Johnson’s Mound. As we approached each climb, he had announced “only 4 more times after this one” as opposed to “5 more to go.” Knocking off one number, mentally, actually made a big difference.

The hill continued to feel good, and to my great surprise I was often able to gain position during the course of those two blocks. It was too bad, then, that I would lose any gains on the downhill and on some of the turns. I am well aware that one of my shortcomings is that I am reticent to bomb through corners at full speed, which means that I tend to scrub off bits of speed, which then results in loss of position.

I don’t recall any attacks going off the front, and if they did they didn’t stay away. From my position at the back of the field, it appears that we rode gruppo compatto the whole time. Going up the hill with 2 laps to go, I moved up the left side and got myself into the front third of the peloton. Of course, I failed to hold this position, and as we came around for the bell lap I was too far back again. The last time up the hill still felt relatively OK, but I wasn’t able to gain as much position as I would have liked. And then, after turning into the downhill the big surge started and the rubber band finally snapped. I started to fall back through the field, and in the end I finished dangling by myself, coming across the line about 10 seconds after the pack. I took 20th out of 25 finishers, so I was quite happy to find out that I had not been the lantern rouge.

All told, it was a great day for Bicycle Heaven. Justin took 4th in the 3/4 race, Jim took 13th in the Cat 5 race, and Adam took two primes in a row in the Masters 30+ 1/2/3 race before Patrick took the win with a throw of his bike (before going on to take 5th in the Pro 1/2/3 race). Next weekend is the Monsters of the Midway Criterium at the Midway Plaisance of the University of Chicago. Let’s hope that there will be fewer crashes than in years past…

Sherman Park Criterium, Chicago, IL, June 12, 2010

The 2009 edition of the Sherman Park Criterium was marked by pouring rain, resulting in 40 minutes of eating road grime and furiously blinking the grit out of my eyes. Notwithstanding, I had been able to score an 8^th place finish. With only “scattered thunderstorms” in the forecast this year, I was hoping to avoid a repeat of the weather and to improve on last year’s finish. I had felt good at the Wednesday night crits this week, so I was feeling optimistic.

Kev and I carpooled into the city, and at registration I was presented with bib number 911. Kev joked that hopefully they wouldn't have to call 911 for me today. That goes without saying! After some confusion over Kev’s bib number got straightened out, we set up the trainers and got in a good warmup. With about 15 minutes to race time we headed over to the course. I was stopped by one of the registration guys asking “are you Butler?” They had screwed up mynumber, too. I was unpinned and given number 912.

Although the skies were overcast and it was very humid, there hadn’t been so much as a hint of rain. Until, that is, we headed out onto the course for our warmup lap. A few small plinks of rain splattered here and there, but nothing too worrisome. Then the wind picked up. And as we rounded turn four, the skies opened up and it poured. Great…2009 revisited.

The officials pulled us from the line, and everyone took shelter wherever they would. We were called back to the line about 10 minutes later. The organizers had shortened the Masters 30+ 4/5 race this year to only 30 minutes, which now I was thankful for.

About 60 riders rolled to the line. As would be expected, there were a lot of xXx guys, plus random pockets of South Chicago Wheelmen and Beverly Bike. Bryan was the only Bicycle Heaven rider, and the Psimet guys were totally AWOL, as was WDT. We were informed that there would be five prime laps, for a shirt, Clif bars, gift certificates, and cash.

The pace from the get-go was fast, but manageable. I spent the first few laps toward the back, getting into a rhythm and avoiding the potholes. Still, on the backstretch of the 2^nd lap I hit one of said potholes squarely in the center. I got a good jolt and prayed that I hadn’t flatted. Fortunately, the Tire Gods were smiling on me today and I remained fully pressurized.

Four laps into the race and I was tired of being at the back. I made my move up the right side of the field as we barreled through the Start/Finish and inserted myself into the front 10 riders. On the whole, this was a race of me gaining position and losing position. With no hard corners, the pack pretty much rode 4-5 riders across the whole time and we never strung out. I found that this made it difficult to escape the pack and gain any ground. This was unfortunate, because my legs were feeling strong, my lungs were clear, and my heart rate stayed pretty low. Not once did I ever feel like I was red-lining. Had I been able to get and keep good position, maybe I could have made something happen at the end.

Despite the conditions, it was a very clean race. I felt someone brush up against me once, and one time I moved slightly to the right and made a little contact with another rider. It was my fault and I apologized several times. No harm, no foul, and everyone kept going on our merry way.

Towards the end of the race I found myself way too far back again. Kev came up on my right side and announced his presence. I told him “I’m nowhere close to where I want to be.” I was boxed in, however, and there was no good way to escape. I had done a poor job of watching the lap counters and still thought we had several laps in which I could try to improve my position. As we zipped by the Start/Finish, I was surprised to see the lap cards set at “1.” I thought to myself “holy cow, this thing is almost over!” I was still boxed in with nowhere to go. I kept scanning for any opportunity to move up, but no openings presented themselves. I resigned myself to just staying upright and riding this one out.

In the end, I took 38^th out of 53 finishers. Another mediocre finish, which has been all too representative of this season. Still, it was a lot of fun, and it was great to have Kev riding strong in the field with me.

ABD Training Crits, June 9, West Chicago, IL

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 4^th or 5^th 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 5^th 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 4^th lap, and with that the preliminary niceties were over. Psimet had a good presence tonight, and on this 4^th 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 10^th 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 2^nd 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!

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