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

Flatlandia Leland Kermesse, Leland, IL, April 17, 2010

I am weak…and a quitter.

If you have been a faithful reader since last year, you’ll be familiar with this style of race. If not, and you are wondering what the heck a “kermesse” is, here is a brief recap.

In Flemish, “kermesse” means “carnival.” When towns would hold a carnival, they would hold a bike race to help earn money for the carnival owners. The course would be about 16 km, would incorporate both town and farm roads, and would always include sections of gravel and/or pave (i.e. cobblestones). And since they often take place in the spring they are usually horrifically windy.

Last year’s course was a 10 mile circuit with one mile of gravel on each lap. The Cat 4s did four laps. This year, the sadistic organizers expanded the circuit to 15 miles, with 5 miles of gravel each lap. Again, the 4s were set to do four laps. Yep, that’s right…a 100k road race for Cat 4s.

Last year’s weather featured scattered thunderstorms, 20+ mph winds, lightning, and a downpour during the last few miles of the race. This year the skies were sunny, but the weather was cool and the winds were horrific…from the north/northwest, and in the upper-20 mph range with gusts into the 30s.

Race time for the Cat 4s was 9:15, and I was at the course by 8:00. After getting my number, I sat in the car and finished getting dressed. I could tell that trouble was brewing…the wind was buffeting my car to a degree that it felt like sitting on an airplane during mild turbulence. Super.

After a decent warm-up on the trainer and a quick stop to shed a few ounces, I rolled to the line with a field of close to 100 other Cat 4s. The roll-out from the school in Leland was neutral for about a mile until we reached the Start/Finish line. Then all hell broke loose.

I did not have good position, starting about 3/4 of the way back in the field. Once the front of the field hit the start line, they flew off like a raped ape. From the get-go, I knew that I was in trouble. My legs felt like two leaden hams, and I could generate zero power. Struggling to not get knocked around too much in the gusting winds, I suffered through the whiplash accelerations and slowdowns that the back of the field always has to contend with. I hung on, hoping that the legs would come around and settle down. We turned out of the wind for a brief stretch, and the field strung out as the front started to accelerate away from us.

The rubber band snapped about two or three miles in, and I found myself spit out of the back of the field. Stragglers would come and go, but no one seemed interested in working together to make contact with the field again. I watched helplessly as the peloton moved farther and farther away from me.

Then came the gravel. Whereas the one gravel section last year was relatively packed down, it was not so with these new sections. Rough, loose gravel sucked at my wheels and threatened to take me down at any moment. A rider from Bicycle Heaven came by and motioned me on to his rear wheel. I grabbed on as best as I could. He yelled back “hey, you’re Pinchy!” I managed to get out a meek “yep.” We were joined by several other riders, including an MS Racing rider and a racer in an Illini jersey. We worked together for a while, but sometimes one of us would fall off, and we would be joined by another straggler for a while.

The gravel seemed to last forever. After a brief respite, we were met with another gravel section, this one no better than the last. I eventually lost contact with Bicycle Heaven, and found myself alone. Crawling along in the small chainring, I was seriously questioning why I bothered to even pull on the jersey this morning. A trio of xXx riders zipped by me, but I was unable to grab their wheel.

After a merciful stretch of pavement, I was met by the third and final gravel section of the circuit. I knew that I had a decision to make…within a mile I was going to hit the final turn of the lap. If I went right, I would embark on another 15 miles of solo suffering. If I went left, I would head into town and call it a day.

I honestly didn’t know which way the decision would go until the last moment, when I made the slashing motion across my throat and croaked “I’m done” to the corner marshal. Head down, I turned left. Although I felt much shame, I was not the only one. Upon returning to the parking lot of the school, I saw a lot of other riders milling about wearing 4-series numbers. The official results showed a total of 27 “DNF” riders.

In hindsight, I should have suffered through one more lap, if for nothing more than the training value. But I just could not bring myself to do it. Having had a very bad week already, I had mentally checked out of the race before it had even begun. I plan to “get back on the horse” at the Whitnall Park crit next weekend. There is still a long season ahead of me.

Burnham Super Spring Criterium, South Beloit, IL, March 27, 2010

Today’s Cat 4 race was a sketchy crash-fest. Considering that it was on an auto/motorcycle speedway with perfect pavement and wide-open turns, this was completely unnecessary. It was almost like racing in a field of new Cat 5s.

One good thing was that the weather was much better than last year. In 2009, my 8:15 am start-time in the Cat 4/5 race was met with high winds and temps in the mid to high 20s. The Cat 4 start-time this year was 1:55, and we enjoyed temps in the high 40s/low 50s. There was enough of a crosswind along the start/finish stretch to make the flags flap around, but it wasn’t terrible.

Kev, Hammer and I carpooled over to South Beloit, and after getting our numbers we set up the trainers out of the wind. I start overheating during the warm-up, so I ditch the wind vest and opt to ride with just a jersey, a long-sleeve jersey, shorts, and knee warmers. After about 30 minutes of warm up we tear down the trainers and head over to the start/finish.

Once we were allowed onto the court, Kev rolls off to do a full warm-up lap, while Hammer and I opted to take a ½ lap. We then rolled to the line with 68 other riders. I had good position in the 2^nd line. When the whistle blew we took off at a pretty brisk, but manageable, pace.

I could tell from the very first lap that this field was going to be trouble. Too many guys would make moves without looking, there was a lot of bumping, and there was way too much braking and slowing. As I mentioned, there are no tight turns and the roadway is wide open. Every corner could be pedaled through and taken at speed, so why we kept hitting the brakes was a mystery. This race was also a bit odd in that there were never really any attacks. There were plenty of surges, but no breakaways.

Sketchiness aside, the first few laps passed relatively uneventfully. At one point I heard Hammer announce that he was on my wheel. At about 8 minutes in, I heard metal hitting pavement somewhere behind me and to my left. Considering how the field had been riding, I knew that it was just a matter of time. I don’t know how many riders went down. When a crash happens behind you, you treat it like it never happened...you don’t look back; you just hope that none of your mates were involved and keep going. More often than not, those riders not involved in the crash take this opportunity to hit the gas and you don’t want to miss the surge.

At 12 minutes in, I was still feeling really good but was farther back in the field than I wanted to be. Hoping that the front would be safer, I decided to expose myself to the wind, and moved up the outside of the left side of the field to get away from all the squirrelyness. I inserted myself back into the field somewhere within the top 20, and stayed there for pretty much the rest of the race.

Throughout the race, my legs and lungs felt really good, and my heart rate was well under control. As mentioned, there were a lot of surges, especially going into the start/finish. We would top out at over 30 mph on that stretch, while averaging around 25 or so on the rest of the course. I was easily able to hang with these surges, and never once feared that I was going to blow up.

With about 5 laps to go, I started hearing calls of “lapped riders up.” I looked down the road and saw Kev working together with a xXx rider. Nuts. As we moved past them I shouted out some encouragement for him to keep going. As we came around to the start/finish, the lap cards again showed 5 laps to go. Was this an error, or did we still have 5 laps? I was feeling good enough that I shrugged this off. When we came around for the next lap, the cards showed only 3 to go.

On the backstretch with 3 laps to go, there was a huge crash right in the middle of the field. It happened in front of me, but fortunately I was far enough to the left that I could get by without slowing down very much. I hit the gas and bridged up to the 20 or so other riders who had avoided the crash. At this point, I was mentally out of the race. All I wanted to do was to stay upright and finish. I knew that this wouldn’t be as easy. With 2 laps to go, a xXx rider made some really bizarre moves. He twitched to the right, all the way to the edge of the road, cutting across 3 riders. Then he twitched right again, out into the grass, and then twitched back onto the road…for no apparent reason whatsoever.

The paced turned blistering as we zipped past the start/finish for the bell lap. I was still feeling good, and still sitting in the top 20. I fought my way up the left side to gain some more position. Shortly after turn 2, however, there was yet another crash. Again, I stayed out of the way of the carnage, but unfortunately this crash sent Hammer out into the grass, and he had to come to a dead stop before rolling again. I fought to maintain whatever position I could, but was still eclipsed by some riders.

As we came around the final turn, I started to think that I was home free. I knew that there were too many riders in front of me, and that I would end up with a mediocre finish. Still, I started to mash on the pedals just to take whatever I could. And just as I was getting up to full speed, there is another crash. I see a rider sliding on the pavement right in front of me. I dived to the right, but now there was a most curious sight in front of me…a rider who was still upright and still had enough momentum to be moving forward, but whose rear wheel was completely tacoed. I could even smell the burning rubber as I dived right around him and fought my way to the line. Guys were sitting up all around me, but I kept sprinting the whole way and ended up taking 25^th out of 58 finishers.

My biggest problem during the race was getting position. Had the field been riding safely, I would have taken a lot more chances to move up into open gaps. There were so many times when I would see a gap, but right next to that gap would be a rider who I had seen twitching around. I simply didn’t want to take the risk of moving forward only to have the squirrel decide to twitch over into that space that I had hoped to occupy. Perhaps I just need to be more fearless. There is still a long season ahead of me to work on that.

Kenosha Velosport Spring Training Criterium #1, March 14, 2010

Wind, wind, and more wind was the order of the day. Fortunately, there was a fair amount of sun, and temps were in the mid-to-high 40s. To refresh your recollection from last year, this course is 0.70 mile loop around a business park. The course is roughly in the shape of a capital “D” that we race counter-clockwise. There are two 90-degree left turns and two sweeping left turns. The start/finish is along the backside of the “D,” heading south with a slight uphill coming out of the turn at the top.

Four representatives of Wheel Fast Racing rolled to the line for the spring opener of racing in Pleasant Prairie, Wisconsin. Chris Hammer, John Mahr, and I lined up with about 40 other Cat 4 riders. Kev was absent, choosing to soak up the sun in Mexico rather than soaking up some pain in chilly Wisconsin. Right behind us was Jason Roggenbauer, lined up with about 20 Cat 5 riders. A dedicated cross and MTB racer, Jason was about to experience his first-ever criterium.

No one team had a strong presence, and xXx and South Chicago Wheelmen appeared to be completely absent from our races. After one warm-up lap on the course, I take my place in the 3^rd line of riders. Instructions are given, and the whistle blows! We take off at a relatively mellow pace. My Garmin computer had crapped out on me toward the end of last season, so I’m flying blind, with no idea of how fast we are going.

As we round turn two into the wind, it is like getting hit in the face. If you weren’t relatively protected in the pack, it felt like someone had grabbed your bars and given them a shake. I think this accounted for some of the squirrely riding…people were simply getting knocked around by Mother Nature.

The mellow pace doesn’t last long, and by the time a few riders started to make a big effort, I was right at the front and in perfect position to grab onto their train. Bad idea. For one, there was no chance that the effort would stay away. I don’t even know if we gained any distance on the field. I should have just stayed in the safety of the field, which soon swallowed us up. As we came around to the Start/Finish, the lap cards showed that only six minutes had elapsed. I felt completely gassed and had to hope that I could recover back in the peloton.

As the pace slows on the backstretch, I see Hammer for the first time. As he moves past me I hear “come on, Stephen.” OK, time to hit the gas. I move myself up near the front of the field, but am careful to avoid being at the front.

Minor attacks are launched here and there, but nothing can stay away in that wind. The field never strings out, which is both a good and a bad thing. Strung-out fields mean high speeds, and I didn’t know whether my legs could handle that. Compact fields can result in some squirrely riding, though, and taking corners at speed riding 4 or 5 riders abreast can be dicey. For the most part, however, the riding was relatively clean. About halfway through the race, I took a nice jolt from someone’s bars on my backside right as I was replacing my water bottle in the cage. Not a pleasant surprise, but nothing hard enough to cause a crash. I didn’t even swear! I just said “easy, now…”

With a few laps to go, we catch up to the 5s field. The fields were allowed to merge, but in a compact field this causes a confusing situation where you can’t quite tell whether the riders around you are 4s or 5s, and you can lose sight of those 4s whose wheels you were just trying to stay on. I’m not a fan of allowing fields to merge.

With two laps to go, Hammer moves up the right side of the field. He announces his presence, but I’m a) too far back, and b) boxed in and can’t get over to his wheel. This is unfortunate, because Jason, who was near the front of the field, grabs his wheel, and the two of them gain some seconds on the field. It is a strong effort, and one that I would have liked to be a part of. Perhaps with 3 of us working together we could have stayed away. Sadly, they got swallowed up by the field with about one lap to go.

Going into the final lap, I’m further back than I want to be, so I use the wide backstretch to gain some position. Still, I can feel that I’ve got nothing for a sprint, and as we negotiate the final few turns, I just have to hold on as best as I can and settle for a finish with the field.

We take two cool down laps, and then it is back to the car for some warm clothes. We watch a bit of the 3s race as we await results. Hammer took 14^th, and I took 19^th. Jason nabbed 6^th in the 5s race…not a bad showing for his first road race. We’ll see if we can improve on those results next week…and hope for less wind!

ABD Fall Fling Criterium, West Chicago, IL, September 26, 2009

I didn't have high hopes for today. I hadn't raced in over a month (since Downers Grove), and being employed again had put a serious crimp in my training time. Some recent training rides had been less than pleasant...flat legs, burning lungs, etc. Still, having some end-of-season races so close to home was too good to pass up.

So, with cloudy skies and temps in the low 70s, I rolled to the line with 53 other riders. I was the sole Wheel Fast Racing representative...some of the other guys were doing a mountain bike race up in Kettle Moraine, and Kev didn't even know about the race. On the plus side, I had a huge cheering section...my wife, her parents, both of her siblings and their respective families.

The course was next to the Pella factory in West Chicago...with the exception of one 90-degree turn, the rest of the course was a large, 0.8 mile oval. Great pavement and wide turns meant that this would be a drag-race from start to finish.

My Garmin has been on the fritz lately, so I was racing blind. However, the pace was manageable, and my legs and lungs felt great. Attacks were launched here and there, but nothing stayed away. There was some squirelliness, but on the whole everyone was riding smart.

10 minutes in and a prime lap for some tires was called. The pace quickened, and I let myself fall back in the field, having no desire to contest the sprint. Afterward, I moved back up through the field. As usual, my plan was to stay near the front, but not at the front. The winds weren't bad, but enough that I wanted to stay within the safety of the field and keep my nose out of the wind.

20 minutes in and I still felt great. My heart rate was low, my lungs were clear, and the legs felt fresh. I would lose some position in the field, then regain it. I tried my best to stay within the top 10-15 riders. We crossed the 30-minute mark, and I was still feeling good. It was great to have so many people cheering so loudly for me each time we came around Turn 1.

With 3 laps to go, I suddenly found myself at the tail end of the field. In my head I heard Fred Willard saying "hey, wha' happened?" After Turn 2 I flew up the left side of the field and inserted myself back in the top 10. With 2 laps to go the pace really got hot. I dropped some position, but held on comfortably in the field.

Then came the bell lap. I was too far back for my liking, so as soon as we crossed the start/finish I started jamming to gain some ground. In hindsight, I should have held back just a little longer. After Turn 2 my legs suddenly turned to lead and I was dismayed to see masses of riders surging on either side of me. I tried to shift down and realized that there was nowhere else on the cog to go. I pushed as hard as I could all the way to the line for a 39th place finish out of 51 finishers.

So, it was a disappointing finish after a great race. Still, there was a lot to be happy about...after a month away from racing I felt comfortable in the field, my body cooperated, and I was able to put in a good showing for my fans. All in all, it was a good end to the season. See you next year!

National Championships, Downers Grove, IL, August 15, 2009

A disappointing day.

The National Championship Criterium in Downers Grove is the high-water mark of the year for many cyclists. Everyone's seasons lead up to this very day. Having had an entire summer of unemployment to do nothing but train and race, I had high hopes for this day. Kev, Chris Hammer and I had registered for the Master's 35+ 4/5 race. Unfortunately, Chris got nailed with a bad case of pneumonia (necessitating an overnight stay in the hospital. So, just Kev and I rolled to the line with 73 other cyclists for 30 minutes plus one lap of racing.

The pace from the whistle was hot. However, the legs and lungs felt good. Having started with really bad field position, I was moving slowly up through the pack.

Disaster struck on Lap 3. Making the turn from Lane onto Summit (lovingly known, at least in the past, as "Mt. Fresca"), I found myself coming upon riders down in the road. I was far enough behind the carnage that I could scrub almost all speed...but not far enough to be able to avoid running right into it. I rode over the wheel of an ABD rider, lost all momentum, and tipped over right on top of him. I broke my fall by putting my left hand squarely onto his hip. I jumped right up, realizing that there was no damage to either my bike or my body. I hopped on the bike and accelerated like mad to catch onto the field.

This, however, was not to be. In hindsight, I should have tried to take a free lap. However, the officials can be merciless if there is no damage to the bike that requires fixing. You don't get a free lap simply by having been caught up in a crash.

I caught up to Kev, announcing "I'm on your wheel, Chief." We worked together for a bit, but at some point I rode him off of my wheel. The rest of the race was spent with a group of about 8 other riders (a diverse group including Bicycle Heaven, Half Acre, SCW, Tower, etc.). I can't say we exactly "worked together" as much as we just hung on for dear life. A spectator at the top of Mt. Fresca would announce our distance off of the main field. We heard anywhere from 24 to 30+ seconds. We had actually started to close the gap a bit when a prime lap was called. That put an end to any hopes we would have.

So, in the end we hung on to the finish. My official result was 46th out of 50 finishers. Disappointing, but at least I wasn't one of the 25 who didn't finish. And at least I suffered no injury in my minor crash. Like Cubs fans always say..."wait 'til next year!"

One Last Matteson, August 11, 2009

I had thought, after the last Tuesday night crits, that I wouldn't be able to race them anymore. After a summer of unemployment, I received a job offer, and thought that I would be starting on Monday. The job is up in Woodstock, so my ability to get to Matteson would be nil.

Due to some internal miscommunication, my start date was set for Wednesday, so my Tuesday night was free for one last set of races.

I seriously thought about not racing tonight...I didn't want to risk crashing the night before I started a new job. However, the Matteson races have been pretty safe, the weather was good (albeit windy), and I knew that this would be, in fact, my last opportunity to race these crits. So, I loaded up the car and met up with Kev.

We knew going in that it was going to be brutal. The headwind on the backstretch was brisk, the fields were big, and this is late August...everyone has a full season under their legs.

Brutal, it was. So much so that I don't really remember much but the pain. I came unglued with a few laps to go in race number 1. About 7 laps into the 2nd race I was popped off the back. Kev was with me, though, so we struggled and suffered together. The field lapped us with about 5 to go, and we rode it on in with them. The third race went much better, surprisingly. Hung with the field until the surge on the final lap.

About midway through race #2 I was seriously regretting my decision to race tonight. But miles are miles, and racing is racing. It was good to get in one last tune-up before Downers Grove.