Downers Grove report, Sat Masters 4-5, Sunday Cat 5 #2
Where do I get my “I survived Downers Grove” T-shirt?
Saturday was a beautiful day, a bit windy and I was hoping for a top 20 placement in the Full field Masters 4-5 in Downtown Downers Grove.
By the time fellow ABD riders Gary Rulo and the Sarge and I entered the course; we were already lined up at the back of the starting field. Gary’s comment “were going to have to do a little work” rang true. ABD rider Paul Zelewsky. was lined up just down the way from us. Together ABD had a good presence. The usual suspects were also in attendance. Tower, XXX and Bike Heaven all had a strong showing in the field.
As the race started, Gary and I moved up and found Paul and started to make good progress up the field. That is until maybe lap # 4. An accident on the uphill in turn 4 collected both Gary and I. Paul managed to just miss THIS wreck. The Sarge passed us asking is we were OK. Both Gary and got up, assessed our damage and moved to the wheel pit for our free lap. We rejoined the pack and continued to hook up with Paul moving into good position. The race itself was not as fast as I expected. Maybe the wind help keep the group together. During each lap between corner 2 & 3 I could hear the ABD faithful cheering us on. With 3 laps to go, the pace picked up between turn 2 and 3. A few attacks were brought back by the group and I could tell that it was going to be a bunch sprint. Paul, Gary and I had made up positions between the downhill turn 5 & 6. We hung tight just around the top 10 and had very good position coming out of turn 8 heading up the start / finish hill. Then about 20 meters before the start /finish, a rider (do not want to name team) pushed through along the barricade. He forced past me and Gary, by as he passed Gary, he hooked a XXX rider (Rob) and they both flipped into the barricade. You know what happened next, 3, yes 3, ABD riders down at once. Luckily everyone seemed OK. (I did hear the next day that a South Shore Wheelman was hurt, but will recover ). The XXX rider’s bike was broken ½. Seeing this, I feel lucky. I managed to remount and finish the 2 laps, but the damage was done. Bottom line is we had a good race going, we all felt strong for the final 2 laps, but as luck would have it was not our day. I had fun; the skid marks on my body will go away and not much damage done to my bike. Although I did not reach my goal of top 20, I can still make a good story about crashing twice in one race.
Sunday Cat 5 #2
More of the same
Lined up 2nd row behind a South Shore Wheelman with fellow ABD rider Jim Lund. Whistle blows and with in 3 seconds I am on the ground again. The guy in front of me falters clipping in and boom, 4 guys ride up my …..back. I replace my chain, remount and chase the field. I manage to catch them around turn 7. I regroup, try and recover and then work on making my way to the front. With 3 laps to go I’m in good position and holding. One lap to go and the front of the field are moving single file through turn 5 & 6. I make a move up to around 5th place between turn 6 & 7. Entering turn 7 faster than any other point of the race, made for some interesting lines through the corner for some riders. The rider to the inside of me bobbled and forced me wider than I wanted making me have to force my way back into the street before that fast approaching outside curb came up and grabbed me. I was pushed back a few spots, but managed to pass a few riders up the finish hill for 8th. .
All in all a fun weekend of racing, Considering my training the last few weeks has included Guinness and only a few days of riding a week, when I was not on the ground, I felt pretty good. I am looking forward to more racing with the Sarge, Gary and Paul.
John Dunne
8/19/2009
7/14/2009
Prinner Report: San Jose Training Camp
Jessi Prinner has an update at her blog about heading to the US National Team Training Camp in San Jose:
San Jose, CA
San Jose, CA
6/19/2009
Prinner Report: Junior World Championship Trial
Hey guys!
This is the rider report you’ve all been waiting for…drum roll…Junior World Championship Trials!!! This was perhaps one of the most important races of my career as a junior racer, and I had my sights trained on it all winter. I think this event is what kept me half-sane during all those lonely, gut-wrenching computrainer workouts at the bike shop. As long as I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and a purpose for all those workouts, I didn’t feel like all that effort was for nothing. My #1 incentive happened to be located in Nashville, Tennessee this year. Believe it or not, my goal had nothing to do with square dancing or cowboy boots, but instead a time trial and a road race within the country/western capital of the U.S.
After an 8 hour drive from Chicago to Tennessee, I was feeling surprisingly unfatigued (haha, that’s not a word). I think it may just be my love for travelling, and the excitement of being in a new place I have never been before. Whatever the case may be, I was psyched for a shot at qualifying for Junior Cycling World Championships, which will be held in Moscow, Russia, from August 7-9. The winner of the road race and the TT automatically qualify for the event they won, and the rest of the Junior National Team is decided by nominations.
Saturday I arrived at the first event of the Soto Classic; a grueling 6.2 mile TT along a well-known road called the Natchez-Trace. Now I must mention the quality of Nashville’s roads, seeing as though I am a cyclist and pavement is my workplace. Most of you can imagine the roads around Chicago; some are so bad, you begin to wonder whether or not the government hired a squad of chimpanzees to lay the road, and a blind elephant to patch up the pot-holes. Sometimes I feel as though a 20 mile ride ends up being one or two miles longer with all the swerving I do. Nashville, on the contrary, has some of the smoothest roads I have ever experienced, like roads that have never been touched by a cars wheels. I could ride for miles along the Natchez-Trace and not spot one flaw on the perfect asphalt. In fact, it’s almost a little bit creepy, like I accidentally rode myself into the Twilight Zone without realizing it.
But I digress—I could go on for days talking about pavement, but I don’t like to bore my audience with details, especially those non-riders out there who right now are going, “IT’S JUST PAVEMENT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!” They wouldn’t understand.
So anyway, I spent a good hour preparing and warming up for my time trial, riding over the course again (checking one last time to be sure there weren’t any pot-holes) and talking to my ABD buddy Jenny Busch. As it so happened, Jenny had spent numerous summers doing research in Nashville, Tennessee, and knew the place so well she could scout out the nearest Mom-N-Pop Country-Fried Biscuits-N-Gravy Pancake House with a blindfold on. I think all Southerners just have a built-in radar for these restaurants. Northerners, on the other hand, are more likely to flee when they see such places. In any case, given the closeness of the racecourse to Jenny’s home, she decided to drop by and support me in my endeavors. I find that supportiveness and friendliness tend to be natural traits of ABD team members, almost like it’s inborn. And if it’s not, then we are quick to convert those sinners.
I felt that it was to my advantage that the course was 10K (6.2 miles) because that also happens to be the distance of a certain indoor event we all know quite well. Since I’d been doing the indoor TTs for four or five years (see, I’ve even lost count), I already had a good idea of what type of effort I could do for that particular distance. From the time the clock started running I visualized myself once again on one of those awful computrainers, and tried to block out all the nerves that could possibly cramp my style. I knew focus was the key—every ounce of my attention was trained on the effort at hand, losing sight and letting up for one moment could cost seconds. I was flying; I made sure to spin out in my junior gears in the downhill and max out my watts on the uphills, judging to be around 270-300 watts as I would have done on a computrainer. After the midway point I felt even faster as I estimated that my gap was closing to my minute-man, and I passed one girl several minutes ahead of me just before crossing the finish line. It wasn’t until much later that I finally saw my time. At first I was appalled to see I had made 2nd place with a time of 16:20 right behind 1st place Coryn Rivera, but then even more shocked when I saw I had lost first place by one second. It’s always the most painful when the gap to a victory is just marginal, but seeing as though it was the closest I have ever gotten to Coryn’s time, I felt some degree of satisfaction.
After making several trips to the hot tub the night before, I arrived at the road race the next day feeling fresher than I had expected. The race was to take place over a grueling hilly 55-mile course accompanied by a scorching sun. Within the last two miles was a monster of a hill that had to be over 10%, and the terrain seemed to just keep going up and up and up. If Hideaway Hill is Dr. Jekyll, then this hill must have been Mr. Hyde.
Well anyway, the race began with about 12 girls and nothing really happened for the first several miles of the race. We rolled along as if we were on a nice Sunday group ride, looking around at each other to see who would make the first move. Coryn Rivera attacked first on a sharp downhill, and as soon as the group rolled up on her, Kendall Ryan counterattacked. Since it was only the first few miles of the race, everyone sat up, not bothering to put in an effort to chase. Her gap continued to increase steadily as the miles wore on, but no one wanted to cooperate in catching her. We finally hit the first major hill of the race, and the group immediately split, leaving five of us off the front with Kendall still ahead. I wasn’t surprised at who made the cut; Kaitie Antonneau, Jackie Kurth, Anna Young, Coryn Rivera, and me. All four I had expected to end up with at some point in the race. For a moment or two, we attempted a chase, but it was short lived seeing as though nobody really wanted to take the chance of pulling their competitors and then being attacked. Both Coryn and Kaitie attacked several times, and eventually Coryn and I managed to gap the other riders with roughly 20 miles to go. We worked together to try to catch Kendall, but by that time she was so far ahead that our efforts really got us nowhere.
With just two miles to go, we hit the final hill, and Coryn and I tried numerous slow-motion attacks (seeing as though we were only hitting about 10 mph at most). It ended up coming down to a sprint, where Coryn outsprinted me for second, and I took third. I’m glad nobody took any pictures of that finish because I’m sure I looked like a mess with salt stains all over and gel caked to my bike. My coach, Mike Farrell, had told me to eat 4-6 gels during the race. The result was not pretty, especially during the latter part of the race when a considerable amount of gel ended up on my hood/brake lever/fork/cables, etc.
After the race Jenny Busch took my family and I on a tour of downtown Nashville. Believe it or not, girls actually dress like Taylor Swift, complete with cowboy boots. I ate chicken fried chicken, and to my surprise, it was delicious. Unlike Chicago, downtown Nashville had hardly any traffic, and didn’t purposefully try to run any pedestrian/cyclists over, unlike Chicago where we suddenly become moving targets.
Despite all the fun I had over the weekend, it wouldn’t have been made possible without Jenny Busch’s and my parent’s assistance, Rob Jungle’s wheels, and the support of ABD. Now I just have to cross my fingers and hope to make the National Team.
Is there anyone on the team who knows Russian?
Thanks for reading,
-Jessi
This is the rider report you’ve all been waiting for…drum roll…Junior World Championship Trials!!! This was perhaps one of the most important races of my career as a junior racer, and I had my sights trained on it all winter. I think this event is what kept me half-sane during all those lonely, gut-wrenching computrainer workouts at the bike shop. As long as I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and a purpose for all those workouts, I didn’t feel like all that effort was for nothing. My #1 incentive happened to be located in Nashville, Tennessee this year. Believe it or not, my goal had nothing to do with square dancing or cowboy boots, but instead a time trial and a road race within the country/western capital of the U.S.
After an 8 hour drive from Chicago to Tennessee, I was feeling surprisingly unfatigued (haha, that’s not a word). I think it may just be my love for travelling, and the excitement of being in a new place I have never been before. Whatever the case may be, I was psyched for a shot at qualifying for Junior Cycling World Championships, which will be held in Moscow, Russia, from August 7-9. The winner of the road race and the TT automatically qualify for the event they won, and the rest of the Junior National Team is decided by nominations.
Saturday I arrived at the first event of the Soto Classic; a grueling 6.2 mile TT along a well-known road called the Natchez-Trace. Now I must mention the quality of Nashville’s roads, seeing as though I am a cyclist and pavement is my workplace. Most of you can imagine the roads around Chicago; some are so bad, you begin to wonder whether or not the government hired a squad of chimpanzees to lay the road, and a blind elephant to patch up the pot-holes. Sometimes I feel as though a 20 mile ride ends up being one or two miles longer with all the swerving I do. Nashville, on the contrary, has some of the smoothest roads I have ever experienced, like roads that have never been touched by a cars wheels. I could ride for miles along the Natchez-Trace and not spot one flaw on the perfect asphalt. In fact, it’s almost a little bit creepy, like I accidentally rode myself into the Twilight Zone without realizing it.
But I digress—I could go on for days talking about pavement, but I don’t like to bore my audience with details, especially those non-riders out there who right now are going, “IT’S JUST PAVEMENT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!” They wouldn’t understand.
So anyway, I spent a good hour preparing and warming up for my time trial, riding over the course again (checking one last time to be sure there weren’t any pot-holes) and talking to my ABD buddy Jenny Busch. As it so happened, Jenny had spent numerous summers doing research in Nashville, Tennessee, and knew the place so well she could scout out the nearest Mom-N-Pop Country-Fried Biscuits-N-Gravy Pancake House with a blindfold on. I think all Southerners just have a built-in radar for these restaurants. Northerners, on the other hand, are more likely to flee when they see such places. In any case, given the closeness of the racecourse to Jenny’s home, she decided to drop by and support me in my endeavors. I find that supportiveness and friendliness tend to be natural traits of ABD team members, almost like it’s inborn. And if it’s not, then we are quick to convert those sinners.
I felt that it was to my advantage that the course was 10K (6.2 miles) because that also happens to be the distance of a certain indoor event we all know quite well. Since I’d been doing the indoor TTs for four or five years (see, I’ve even lost count), I already had a good idea of what type of effort I could do for that particular distance. From the time the clock started running I visualized myself once again on one of those awful computrainers, and tried to block out all the nerves that could possibly cramp my style. I knew focus was the key—every ounce of my attention was trained on the effort at hand, losing sight and letting up for one moment could cost seconds. I was flying; I made sure to spin out in my junior gears in the downhill and max out my watts on the uphills, judging to be around 270-300 watts as I would have done on a computrainer. After the midway point I felt even faster as I estimated that my gap was closing to my minute-man, and I passed one girl several minutes ahead of me just before crossing the finish line. It wasn’t until much later that I finally saw my time. At first I was appalled to see I had made 2nd place with a time of 16:20 right behind 1st place Coryn Rivera, but then even more shocked when I saw I had lost first place by one second. It’s always the most painful when the gap to a victory is just marginal, but seeing as though it was the closest I have ever gotten to Coryn’s time, I felt some degree of satisfaction.
After making several trips to the hot tub the night before, I arrived at the road race the next day feeling fresher than I had expected. The race was to take place over a grueling hilly 55-mile course accompanied by a scorching sun. Within the last two miles was a monster of a hill that had to be over 10%, and the terrain seemed to just keep going up and up and up. If Hideaway Hill is Dr. Jekyll, then this hill must have been Mr. Hyde.
Well anyway, the race began with about 12 girls and nothing really happened for the first several miles of the race. We rolled along as if we were on a nice Sunday group ride, looking around at each other to see who would make the first move. Coryn Rivera attacked first on a sharp downhill, and as soon as the group rolled up on her, Kendall Ryan counterattacked. Since it was only the first few miles of the race, everyone sat up, not bothering to put in an effort to chase. Her gap continued to increase steadily as the miles wore on, but no one wanted to cooperate in catching her. We finally hit the first major hill of the race, and the group immediately split, leaving five of us off the front with Kendall still ahead. I wasn’t surprised at who made the cut; Kaitie Antonneau, Jackie Kurth, Anna Young, Coryn Rivera, and me. All four I had expected to end up with at some point in the race. For a moment or two, we attempted a chase, but it was short lived seeing as though nobody really wanted to take the chance of pulling their competitors and then being attacked. Both Coryn and Kaitie attacked several times, and eventually Coryn and I managed to gap the other riders with roughly 20 miles to go. We worked together to try to catch Kendall, but by that time she was so far ahead that our efforts really got us nowhere.
With just two miles to go, we hit the final hill, and Coryn and I tried numerous slow-motion attacks (seeing as though we were only hitting about 10 mph at most). It ended up coming down to a sprint, where Coryn outsprinted me for second, and I took third. I’m glad nobody took any pictures of that finish because I’m sure I looked like a mess with salt stains all over and gel caked to my bike. My coach, Mike Farrell, had told me to eat 4-6 gels during the race. The result was not pretty, especially during the latter part of the race when a considerable amount of gel ended up on my hood/brake lever/fork/cables, etc.
After the race Jenny Busch took my family and I on a tour of downtown Nashville. Believe it or not, girls actually dress like Taylor Swift, complete with cowboy boots. I ate chicken fried chicken, and to my surprise, it was delicious. Unlike Chicago, downtown Nashville had hardly any traffic, and didn’t purposefully try to run any pedestrian/cyclists over, unlike Chicago where we suddenly become moving targets.
Despite all the fun I had over the weekend, it wouldn’t have been made possible without Jenny Busch’s and my parent’s assistance, Rob Jungle’s wheels, and the support of ABD. Now I just have to cross my fingers and hope to make the National Team.
Is there anyone on the team who knows Russian?
Thanks for reading,
-Jessi
6/14/2009
Prinner Report: Quad Cities (and Not So Radio-Ready)
Hello ABD,
Even though school has gotten pretty crazy in the past two weeks, I still managed to find time to travel to the Quad cities, and then Nashville Tennessee for some major hard-core racing. I’d like nothing more right now than to just sit and vegg out since I only have two days of school left, but I figure these reports are too important to hold out on any longer.
Two weeks ago I hopped a ride with Sue to drive down to race the infamous Melon City and Quad City criteriums. I was really looking forward to upping my results for this weekend since the best I’ve ever done was top twenty, and even then that was only when I wasn’t busy crashing myself out on every available corner. The field was just as tough as ever with several pro-elite teams scattered throughout. Meredith Miller from team TIBCO was there, as well as Amanda Mill from team Lipsmackers. I also noticed how many of the teams had radios strapped to their ears, and thought about how cool it would be if Sue and I had earphones like that.
Jessi Prinner speaks into radio, “Pssst, Sue, are you there?”
Sue: “Yeah, I’m here”
Jessi: “Sue, I’m riding about five riders back on the left. Now I just move up one spot. Now I just blew my nose. The lady next to me has some really cute gloves.”
Sue: “Jessi…”
Jessi: “Oh no! This lady just cut me off. Okay, now I’m turning…”
Sue: “Jessi…”
Jessi: “Alright, I’m still on the left, about four riders back now. Someone drew a smiley face on the road…oh wait, maybe it’s a frowney face…”
Sue: “Jessi!”
Jessi: “What?”
Sue “I’m right next to you”
Jessi: “Oh, right. Oh! You’re the one with the cute gloves!”
No, now that I think of it, that wouldn’t work out. Sue and I would probably just end up talking about the weather and telling each other “Knock knock” jokes when we really should be focused on racing.
Anyway, the race was a total of fourteen laps, which may not seem like much on paper, and wouldn’t be if the course was flat, but fourteen laps sure seemed like plenty by the end of the race. Everyone, of course, attacked on the hill, and I even managed to get a small break going with three other riders for one hopeful moment. Nothing got far, though, and the move was shut down within half a lap, as it was too easy for the field to gain ground on the downhill. The course itself is unique in the fact that it has a weird shape that squiggles through a park, with a steep, fast downhill, (at the bottom of which lies a speedbump) followed by a steep, slow uphill. From past years I learned that the first rider to the top of that hill on the last lap is almost guaranteed victory, because by that time everyone is so gassed that an actual sprint is almost nonexistent. So my plan was to be first up that hill. It’s too bad about 30 other riders had the same plan in mind, because by the time the last lap came around, everyone was gunning for the front, and one rider (Meredith Miller from TIBCO) already had a significant gap up the road. So the rider mentioned ended up winning the race, while I got neatly boxed in on the left with my last time up the hill. Pooling together everything I had, I used my sprint to loop and dodge around a minefield of scattered riders, all jockeying for position towards the top, and finished with a respectable 8th place.
The next day I crossed over the Mississippi River into Rock Island to race the infamous Quad cities criterium, also known as “Rage in the Cage”. The skies looked threatening, and for a while the forecast predicted thunderstorms for my race, but by the time my start time arrived, the clouds were looking less bleak, almost as if they decided to stop crying for a while to watch the Pro women 1,2,3s race. From the moment the whistle was blown, the race took off in a frenzy of attacks and counterattacks. Team Lipsmackers coordinated their moves well, one right after the other. I made sure to stay positioned near the front to be ready in case any major breaks developed, and tried several failed attacks before one break finally stuck. The group consisted of six heavy-hitters, including Meredith Miller, Amanda Miller, Catherine Walberg, Kristen Meshberg, and Toni Bradshaw. This power group consisted of the right recipe for success, and each of us pulled through consistently and worked together like a well-oiled machine. At first, I thought the break wouldn’t survive seeing as though it was only halfway through the race, and our gap lingered at about 20 seconds for a few laps. Then, Meredith Miller took a crazy strong pull for about half a lap and our gap instantly increased, and it was all uphill from there. By the end, we were roughly half a lap ahead of the field, and as we rolled by the center barriers I could peer over the spectators and see the actual pack rolling by as we rolled by. I could probably have thrown a waterbottle to one of them they were so close.
With under ten laps to go Meredith Miller began her brutal attacks that tore apart our breakaway, but none of them actually succeeded. With just two laps to go, we were all together, and as well rolled though start-finish, a gambler’s prime was called for $60 on the next lap. It’s no coincidence they call these primes “gambler primes”, because in order to win one you have to sprint on the bell lap, which is risky considering you could get gassed with just one lap to go. I took this risk into consideration during the whole 2nd to last lap, and debated the worthiness of the risk. But hey, $60 is a lot of money to a junior like me. I thought of all the things I could buy with that money; a pair of shoes, a helmet that was on a super good sale(not that I would need one or anything), a hamster, a pair of head phones, 60 songs on iTunes, 60 snickers candybars, an iPod stereo that I could turn up really loud…the possibilities are endless. So, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I went for the gambler’s prime. I really don’t think anyone else even tried for it, because when I looked back, I had a huge gap between the break and me. And then I thought:
Gap + 1 lap to go = VICTORY!
So I floored the gas pedal and figured, “Hey, I already took one risk today, might as well take them all!” For almost an entire lap, the gap stayed, and just as I rounded the second to last corner, the group came roaring by me with Meredith Miller winding up her sprint and Kristen Meshberg hot on her wheel. Meredith took the sprint, and I, feeling like dog chow, took fifth place. Not bad, though, considering I stepped up from 18th, to 5th in one year, a huge jump considering the size and strength of these races. Not only that, but I made podium as I was awarded the “Most Aggressive Rider Award” for burying myself at the end, and got an interview with some radio announcer (he was taping my voice, so I’m worried parts it might show up on the radio). Overall, I’d say Memorial Day weekend was a success, and definitely one I’m adding to my race resume.
That’s all for now…
-Jessi Prinner
Even though school has gotten pretty crazy in the past two weeks, I still managed to find time to travel to the Quad cities, and then Nashville Tennessee for some major hard-core racing. I’d like nothing more right now than to just sit and vegg out since I only have two days of school left, but I figure these reports are too important to hold out on any longer.
Two weeks ago I hopped a ride with Sue to drive down to race the infamous Melon City and Quad City criteriums. I was really looking forward to upping my results for this weekend since the best I’ve ever done was top twenty, and even then that was only when I wasn’t busy crashing myself out on every available corner. The field was just as tough as ever with several pro-elite teams scattered throughout. Meredith Miller from team TIBCO was there, as well as Amanda Mill from team Lipsmackers. I also noticed how many of the teams had radios strapped to their ears, and thought about how cool it would be if Sue and I had earphones like that.
Jessi Prinner speaks into radio, “Pssst, Sue, are you there?”
Sue: “Yeah, I’m here”
Jessi: “Sue, I’m riding about five riders back on the left. Now I just move up one spot. Now I just blew my nose. The lady next to me has some really cute gloves.”
Sue: “Jessi…”
Jessi: “Oh no! This lady just cut me off. Okay, now I’m turning…”
Sue: “Jessi…”
Jessi: “Alright, I’m still on the left, about four riders back now. Someone drew a smiley face on the road…oh wait, maybe it’s a frowney face…”
Sue: “Jessi!”
Jessi: “What?”
Sue “I’m right next to you”
Jessi: “Oh, right. Oh! You’re the one with the cute gloves!”
No, now that I think of it, that wouldn’t work out. Sue and I would probably just end up talking about the weather and telling each other “Knock knock” jokes when we really should be focused on racing.
Anyway, the race was a total of fourteen laps, which may not seem like much on paper, and wouldn’t be if the course was flat, but fourteen laps sure seemed like plenty by the end of the race. Everyone, of course, attacked on the hill, and I even managed to get a small break going with three other riders for one hopeful moment. Nothing got far, though, and the move was shut down within half a lap, as it was too easy for the field to gain ground on the downhill. The course itself is unique in the fact that it has a weird shape that squiggles through a park, with a steep, fast downhill, (at the bottom of which lies a speedbump) followed by a steep, slow uphill. From past years I learned that the first rider to the top of that hill on the last lap is almost guaranteed victory, because by that time everyone is so gassed that an actual sprint is almost nonexistent. So my plan was to be first up that hill. It’s too bad about 30 other riders had the same plan in mind, because by the time the last lap came around, everyone was gunning for the front, and one rider (Meredith Miller from TIBCO) already had a significant gap up the road. So the rider mentioned ended up winning the race, while I got neatly boxed in on the left with my last time up the hill. Pooling together everything I had, I used my sprint to loop and dodge around a minefield of scattered riders, all jockeying for position towards the top, and finished with a respectable 8th place.
The next day I crossed over the Mississippi River into Rock Island to race the infamous Quad cities criterium, also known as “Rage in the Cage”. The skies looked threatening, and for a while the forecast predicted thunderstorms for my race, but by the time my start time arrived, the clouds were looking less bleak, almost as if they decided to stop crying for a while to watch the Pro women 1,2,3s race. From the moment the whistle was blown, the race took off in a frenzy of attacks and counterattacks. Team Lipsmackers coordinated their moves well, one right after the other. I made sure to stay positioned near the front to be ready in case any major breaks developed, and tried several failed attacks before one break finally stuck. The group consisted of six heavy-hitters, including Meredith Miller, Amanda Miller, Catherine Walberg, Kristen Meshberg, and Toni Bradshaw. This power group consisted of the right recipe for success, and each of us pulled through consistently and worked together like a well-oiled machine. At first, I thought the break wouldn’t survive seeing as though it was only halfway through the race, and our gap lingered at about 20 seconds for a few laps. Then, Meredith Miller took a crazy strong pull for about half a lap and our gap instantly increased, and it was all uphill from there. By the end, we were roughly half a lap ahead of the field, and as we rolled by the center barriers I could peer over the spectators and see the actual pack rolling by as we rolled by. I could probably have thrown a waterbottle to one of them they were so close.
With under ten laps to go Meredith Miller began her brutal attacks that tore apart our breakaway, but none of them actually succeeded. With just two laps to go, we were all together, and as well rolled though start-finish, a gambler’s prime was called for $60 on the next lap. It’s no coincidence they call these primes “gambler primes”, because in order to win one you have to sprint on the bell lap, which is risky considering you could get gassed with just one lap to go. I took this risk into consideration during the whole 2nd to last lap, and debated the worthiness of the risk. But hey, $60 is a lot of money to a junior like me. I thought of all the things I could buy with that money; a pair of shoes, a helmet that was on a super good sale(not that I would need one or anything), a hamster, a pair of head phones, 60 songs on iTunes, 60 snickers candybars, an iPod stereo that I could turn up really loud…the possibilities are endless. So, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I went for the gambler’s prime. I really don’t think anyone else even tried for it, because when I looked back, I had a huge gap between the break and me. And then I thought:
Gap + 1 lap to go = VICTORY!
So I floored the gas pedal and figured, “Hey, I already took one risk today, might as well take them all!” For almost an entire lap, the gap stayed, and just as I rounded the second to last corner, the group came roaring by me with Meredith Miller winding up her sprint and Kristen Meshberg hot on her wheel. Meredith took the sprint, and I, feeling like dog chow, took fifth place. Not bad, though, considering I stepped up from 18th, to 5th in one year, a huge jump considering the size and strength of these races. Not only that, but I made podium as I was awarded the “Most Aggressive Rider Award” for burying myself at the end, and got an interview with some radio announcer (he was taping my voice, so I’m worried parts it might show up on the radio). Overall, I’d say Memorial Day weekend was a success, and definitely one I’m adding to my race resume.
That’s all for now…
-Jessi Prinner
5/20/2009
Watson Report from Colorado
[Zach Watson is an ABD Club member and Elite Team rider living in Boulder, Colorado. Zach has been an ABD member since the team’s original inception as a Junior program in the mid 90’s and we are proud to still have him on board]
Hello, ABD Club. Here’s a quick report on some races this past weekend. Next up: the Quad Cities races.
Saturday: Sunshine Canyon Hillclimb. Basically a mass start 9 mile climb up one of the nastiest climbs in Boulder, last 3 miles on dirt. Chilly start, headed off and the smack went down as soon as the gun went off. Oooh that hurt, watching the watts at 425 or so and we're on the lighter grades in the first mile! I yo-yo'ed a bit and caught back on about 3 times after getting detached, but I got dropped for good a little over halfway up. Just couldn't hold the pace and my legs were fairly blown from hanging on during the steep stuff. So I rode to the finish by myself, with a few others, the race exploded and everyone just came in one-by-one. I was fairly upset since I had climbed well at Gila, but I am learning that a "sprint" up a climb like that really isn't my niche in the climbing world. Probably would do a lot better if we did about 80 miles beforehand. I climbed the course 2 mins faster than I did last year so there is improvement, but 25th out of 41 isn't great! The wattage numbers were pretty high, 10 min average was 405, overall 329. Ouch, that hurt.
Sunday: Bounced back nicely. North Boulder Park Crit, apparently a coors classic heyday classic course. They did like a dozen call ups, everyone showed up today. Frischkorn and Donald from Slipstream, Baldwin from Rock, Garcia from BMC, Chris Wherry, Scott Moninger, Colby Pearce, Dan Schmatz, Ian MacGregor and another Type 1 guy, a Bissell guy, and the regular Boulder fast guys. So a pretty stacked field for a local race, a lot of horsepower present. The race splits due to the narrow roads and dodgy turns so I kept to the front. Frischkorn took off with about 30 mins to go and I stuck right on his wheel and was joined with Colby Pearce and a couple others. A good move but alarm bells went off in the field and we got reeled back in. So it came down to a few laps to go and a couple guys got away, and we almost got them on the line, but Ian MacGregor won. I kept a good position and launched out of the last corner about 6th wheel. Sprinted hard and passed a couple, got 4th place.
So my crit riding is spot-on and tactically I am playing well. I got pretty down after the drubbing I took in the hillclimb so I was pretty low on morale at the start but I got out of that funk pretty quick and rode a smart race. Looking forward to memorial weekend!
Thanks, hope you're well!
Zach
Hello, ABD Club. Here’s a quick report on some races this past weekend. Next up: the Quad Cities races.
Saturday: Sunshine Canyon Hillclimb. Basically a mass start 9 mile climb up one of the nastiest climbs in Boulder, last 3 miles on dirt. Chilly start, headed off and the smack went down as soon as the gun went off. Oooh that hurt, watching the watts at 425 or so and we're on the lighter grades in the first mile! I yo-yo'ed a bit and caught back on about 3 times after getting detached, but I got dropped for good a little over halfway up. Just couldn't hold the pace and my legs were fairly blown from hanging on during the steep stuff. So I rode to the finish by myself, with a few others, the race exploded and everyone just came in one-by-one. I was fairly upset since I had climbed well at Gila, but I am learning that a "sprint" up a climb like that really isn't my niche in the climbing world. Probably would do a lot better if we did about 80 miles beforehand. I climbed the course 2 mins faster than I did last year so there is improvement, but 25th out of 41 isn't great! The wattage numbers were pretty high, 10 min average was 405, overall 329. Ouch, that hurt.
Sunday: Bounced back nicely. North Boulder Park Crit, apparently a coors classic heyday classic course. They did like a dozen call ups, everyone showed up today. Frischkorn and Donald from Slipstream, Baldwin from Rock, Garcia from BMC, Chris Wherry, Scott Moninger, Colby Pearce, Dan Schmatz, Ian MacGregor and another Type 1 guy, a Bissell guy, and the regular Boulder fast guys. So a pretty stacked field for a local race, a lot of horsepower present. The race splits due to the narrow roads and dodgy turns so I kept to the front. Frischkorn took off with about 30 mins to go and I stuck right on his wheel and was joined with Colby Pearce and a couple others. A good move but alarm bells went off in the field and we got reeled back in. So it came down to a few laps to go and a couple guys got away, and we almost got them on the line, but Ian MacGregor won. I kept a good position and launched out of the last corner about 6th wheel. Sprinted hard and passed a couple, got 4th place.
So my crit riding is spot-on and tactically I am playing well. I got pretty down after the drubbing I took in the hillclimb so I was pretty low on morale at the start but I got out of that funk pretty quick and rode a smart race. Looking forward to memorial weekend!
Thanks, hope you're well!
Zach
4/14/2009
Prinner Report: Hillsboro Roubaix
Hey Team,
I’m sure most of you tuned in yesterday to watch a very eventful Paris-Roubaix unfold, even though I’m still a little bummed they never show a women’s Paris-Roubaix. I’m sure women racers have just as much, if not more, enthusiasm about racing those cobbles as the men. I know I was envious. I just hope that one day maybe I’ll get the chance to race on one of those cobble stretches with an impossibly long and unpronounceable name, strewn with crazy spectators that make obstacles of themselves. For now, though, I’ll just have to settle for the bastard son of the Queen of the Classics; Hillsboro-Roubaix.
With this having been my fourth year of racing the grueling Hillsboro road race, I was surprised at how familiar I was with it. I could even point out the exact spot along the side of the road that, four years prior, I literally stopped mid-race and lay in a ditch. Better yet, my mom (who was also racing that day) eventually found me sprawled along the road and even stopped to give me a massage. Believe it or not, I actually got 13th place that year in the cat 4s.
But looking back on that pitiful day, I realize that I have come a long way, and I finally see how ridiculous I must have looked laying by the side of the road. I hope that most people have erased that from their minds by now. I can’t have Webcor or Colavita knowing about this. Quick roadside breaks are not exactly smiled upon in Paris-Roubaix, and worse yet, there’s a slight chance my mom might not be there to give me a massage.
Anyway, I felt confident as I lined up for the Roubaix once again. The course consisted of two 22-mile laps with a tough course mixed with nasty little bumps (as Sarah Tillotson once called them) and long, blustery stretches of road with no shelter from the wind. The final mile to the finish is a loop around the downtown area that takes you up a long, killer hill that leads into town (actually I think the only reason it seems so bad is because it’s at the very end) followed by a sharp turn and a fast descent onto…drum roll…THE COBBLES. I wish I could say Hillsboro contained 37 miles of cobbles like Paris-Roubaix, but I think it’s more like 0.37 miles. It’s just enough to make you realize that cobbles really aren’t that much fun. Just a tip: they look a LOT smoother than they really are.
Well, the race began and I made sure to situate myself in a decent position in the top fourth of the field. I figured I would have some time to get settled in before any major attacks came, but apparently the field thought otherwise. Rebecca Much (a Webcor Pro) sat in second position from the gun, using her unique ability to smell attacks and knowing that the winning move was just around the corner. We were not more than three miles into the race when the attack came on only the second hill of the day, and the field shattered instantly. A break of three ladies formed (including Rebecca, Catherine Walberg, and Sydney Brown), setting a record from the year before of the earliest successful break I have ever seen. Three other ladies and I formed the chase group. Indeed, this year the field was far more intense than the year before. Not only was it bigger, but the teams more vast and some of the big guns had come out to claim the prize of a stipend for free racing and lodging for Nature-Valley. There weren’t just cat 1’s in the field this year; there were Pros.
Since the break was not so far up the road (just a few hundred yards), I assumed we would reel them in in no time. 15 miles later, the three ladies were still just a tantalizing distance away. There is a possibility they could have been playing with us as a cruel joke. And just when I was starting to convince myself they were just a hallucination, the gap closed and we finally joined the front riders.
With my sharply honed senses, I could tell some of the ladies were getting tired. My first clue was after turning a corner when one lady hit the apex and made a straight, unwavering bee-line into the ditch. I battled internally on whether or not this was intentional. I, too, might have done the same thing four years ago. It was to no one’s surprise that she got dropped at the beginning of the second lap; I didn’t even see her go, she was just there one instant and gone the next. Perhaps a spectator can recount seeing a cat 1,2,3 lady laying by the side of the road, and maybe even stopped to give her a massage.
Once again we set off into the backroads rotating in our neat little paceline for one last 22 mile loop. We made good time at a pace of a little over 21 mph, especially considering the killer winds, which in some places seemed to be coming at us in all directions except from behind. The field was nowhere in sight, and a lady wearing all pink got a flat tire.
So coming into the final downtown mile there were only five little Indians left; the survivors on a long and treacherous journey over the Roubaix. The decisive attack came on the final long uphill when Rebecca Much exploded past the pace car (which got caught behind some other finishing riders) and gapped us as if we were standing still. My legs were shot from the many hard miles of racing, and I was instantly separated from the other ladies, and forced to finish in a grueling solo to fifth place. I was still pleased as punch that I managed to not only hang with, but work alongside the top riders in the region, not to mention racing and actually competing against a seasoned pro racer like Rebecca Much.
That definitely gives me incentive to train hard and race even harder to reach my goals this year. That includes making the junior national team and qualifying for Junior Worlds that will be held in Moscow, Russia in August. My first test in going to be in late May at the Junior World Trials in Nashville, Tennessee (Jenny Busch, I know you will be happy about this). If I manage to qualify, I’ll see if I can get away with wearing my ABD booties with my Team USA kit at Worlds.
Until my next adventure,
-Jessi
I’m sure most of you tuned in yesterday to watch a very eventful Paris-Roubaix unfold, even though I’m still a little bummed they never show a women’s Paris-Roubaix. I’m sure women racers have just as much, if not more, enthusiasm about racing those cobbles as the men. I know I was envious. I just hope that one day maybe I’ll get the chance to race on one of those cobble stretches with an impossibly long and unpronounceable name, strewn with crazy spectators that make obstacles of themselves. For now, though, I’ll just have to settle for the bastard son of the Queen of the Classics; Hillsboro-Roubaix.
With this having been my fourth year of racing the grueling Hillsboro road race, I was surprised at how familiar I was with it. I could even point out the exact spot along the side of the road that, four years prior, I literally stopped mid-race and lay in a ditch. Better yet, my mom (who was also racing that day) eventually found me sprawled along the road and even stopped to give me a massage. Believe it or not, I actually got 13th place that year in the cat 4s.
But looking back on that pitiful day, I realize that I have come a long way, and I finally see how ridiculous I must have looked laying by the side of the road. I hope that most people have erased that from their minds by now. I can’t have Webcor or Colavita knowing about this. Quick roadside breaks are not exactly smiled upon in Paris-Roubaix, and worse yet, there’s a slight chance my mom might not be there to give me a massage.
Anyway, I felt confident as I lined up for the Roubaix once again. The course consisted of two 22-mile laps with a tough course mixed with nasty little bumps (as Sarah Tillotson once called them) and long, blustery stretches of road with no shelter from the wind. The final mile to the finish is a loop around the downtown area that takes you up a long, killer hill that leads into town (actually I think the only reason it seems so bad is because it’s at the very end) followed by a sharp turn and a fast descent onto…drum roll…THE COBBLES. I wish I could say Hillsboro contained 37 miles of cobbles like Paris-Roubaix, but I think it’s more like 0.37 miles. It’s just enough to make you realize that cobbles really aren’t that much fun. Just a tip: they look a LOT smoother than they really are.
Well, the race began and I made sure to situate myself in a decent position in the top fourth of the field. I figured I would have some time to get settled in before any major attacks came, but apparently the field thought otherwise. Rebecca Much (a Webcor Pro) sat in second position from the gun, using her unique ability to smell attacks and knowing that the winning move was just around the corner. We were not more than three miles into the race when the attack came on only the second hill of the day, and the field shattered instantly. A break of three ladies formed (including Rebecca, Catherine Walberg, and Sydney Brown), setting a record from the year before of the earliest successful break I have ever seen. Three other ladies and I formed the chase group. Indeed, this year the field was far more intense than the year before. Not only was it bigger, but the teams more vast and some of the big guns had come out to claim the prize of a stipend for free racing and lodging for Nature-Valley. There weren’t just cat 1’s in the field this year; there were Pros.
Since the break was not so far up the road (just a few hundred yards), I assumed we would reel them in in no time. 15 miles later, the three ladies were still just a tantalizing distance away. There is a possibility they could have been playing with us as a cruel joke. And just when I was starting to convince myself they were just a hallucination, the gap closed and we finally joined the front riders.
With my sharply honed senses, I could tell some of the ladies were getting tired. My first clue was after turning a corner when one lady hit the apex and made a straight, unwavering bee-line into the ditch. I battled internally on whether or not this was intentional. I, too, might have done the same thing four years ago. It was to no one’s surprise that she got dropped at the beginning of the second lap; I didn’t even see her go, she was just there one instant and gone the next. Perhaps a spectator can recount seeing a cat 1,2,3 lady laying by the side of the road, and maybe even stopped to give her a massage.
Once again we set off into the backroads rotating in our neat little paceline for one last 22 mile loop. We made good time at a pace of a little over 21 mph, especially considering the killer winds, which in some places seemed to be coming at us in all directions except from behind. The field was nowhere in sight, and a lady wearing all pink got a flat tire.
So coming into the final downtown mile there were only five little Indians left; the survivors on a long and treacherous journey over the Roubaix. The decisive attack came on the final long uphill when Rebecca Much exploded past the pace car (which got caught behind some other finishing riders) and gapped us as if we were standing still. My legs were shot from the many hard miles of racing, and I was instantly separated from the other ladies, and forced to finish in a grueling solo to fifth place. I was still pleased as punch that I managed to not only hang with, but work alongside the top riders in the region, not to mention racing and actually competing against a seasoned pro racer like Rebecca Much.
That definitely gives me incentive to train hard and race even harder to reach my goals this year. That includes making the junior national team and qualifying for Junior Worlds that will be held in Moscow, Russia in August. My first test in going to be in late May at the Junior World Trials in Nashville, Tennessee (Jenny Busch, I know you will be happy about this). If I manage to qualify, I’ll see if I can get away with wearing my ABD booties with my Team USA kit at Worlds.
Until my next adventure,
-Jessi
4/10/2009
Prinner Report: Kenosha & Beloit
Hey Team,
It’s definitely about time I started with the rider reports again since I’ve finally got something to talk about (let’s face it, nobody really wants to hear a report on the indoor TTs. This is about the time of year that we all just prefer to forget about them).
My first race of the year brought me out to Kenosha to race on one of the widest, flattest courses I’ve ever seen in my life. Not to mention one of the windiest. And it didn’t help much that there was an airport next door, and a little ways from that a giant, smoke-belching factory of some sort. I was a bit tentative at first seeing this; not sure whether I would come home with some sort of a mutation. An extra leg wouldn’t hurt, really. Anyway, I didn’t come to Kenosha to race with the women, as most would have assumed, but instead my first race of the season was with the cat. 1,2 men. I thought it would be a good omen. Actually it was more just for training purposes, because you can’t really go any higher than the men’s 1,2 field. Well, I was definitely excited and ready to go out and kick some butt after a long, dull winter in the trainer (my rollers were out of commission for a while. I trained so hard that I snapped them right in half. If you ask Farrell he’ll say the molding was defective, but I like to think otherwise). Plus, I just received my brand new ABR license, even though I was a little bummed it didn’t rank me as Super Galactic Professional like I had asked. Oh well, maybe next year.
So the men’s 1,2 race began with a meager field of about 25 guys on the line (I was really hoping for a Superweek turnout of at least 120), but I still got my workout by sitting in and practiced basic pack-racing skills like moving up, holding my line through turns, fending off riders to keep my position and blowing snot on the rider behind me. Since a decent sized breakaway had gotten away early on in the race, I figured going for the win was futile, and besides that the wind was really a monster and nobody’s bridging attempts were making it very far. Rob Jungals attacked and stayed away to the finish on the last lap, while I attempted to secure a good position for the field sprint. I somehow went from third rider with half a lap to being boxed in at the back by the last straightaway, so I counted it as a pack finish. I was pretty pleased, though, with my first performance of the year, and I didn’t go home with an extra arm sticking out of my head from that scary factory.
The next weekend I showed up at Beloit with only one desire in my mind as I stepped out of the car—to go home. For some reason I had it in my mind the day before that it was going to be sunny and beautiful up at the crit/speedway, even though people were telling me left and right that it was going to miserable and possibly even snow. So when I arrived at the race the following weekend, I was actually surprised to find that it was really, really cold. And windy. And believe it or not, the course was even wider and flatter than Kenosha, seeing as though it was actually a racecar course.
I was even more surprised to find that about 12 women had actually decided to show up. Did they, too, share the same mental delusion as me? My own teammate, Sue, should have known better than this. She pretty much all but writes a research paper on every race she does. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt the odds of her knowing the ground temperature as well as the atmospheric pressure that day. The day before she had been wisely hesitant about going, but I coaxed her with super slick words and convinced her to suffer with me anyway.
So my original race strategy had been to wait until about halfway through the race to attack since it was 55 minutes long, and I figured that way I would conserve my own energy as well as whittle down the field’s. Well, it sure sounded like a good plan, but in reality I attacked on the first lap, sending my race strategy right out the window. Immediately a group of about five ladies formed and we worked together trading off pulls, steadily increasing our gap from the field. That’s pretty much all we did for 55 minutes. I decided not to attack since one of the riders was Kristen Wentworth, a super strong lady on Kenda Tire who is known for being a powerhouse. To attack her would be like me trying to wrestle a grizzly bear. Absolutely pointless. So I put my money on the final sprint, hoping she wasn’t amazing at that, too. The final lap arrived and Wentworth tried a beast of an attack, but I managed to catch her before any large distance was put between us. For the remainder of the lap I sat on her wheel and then began my sprint way too early and suffered all the way to the finish line. But I still won. And I got two waterbottles and a baselayer long-sleeve out of it. Hallelujah.
‘Till next time,
-Jessi
It’s definitely about time I started with the rider reports again since I’ve finally got something to talk about (let’s face it, nobody really wants to hear a report on the indoor TTs. This is about the time of year that we all just prefer to forget about them).
My first race of the year brought me out to Kenosha to race on one of the widest, flattest courses I’ve ever seen in my life. Not to mention one of the windiest. And it didn’t help much that there was an airport next door, and a little ways from that a giant, smoke-belching factory of some sort. I was a bit tentative at first seeing this; not sure whether I would come home with some sort of a mutation. An extra leg wouldn’t hurt, really. Anyway, I didn’t come to Kenosha to race with the women, as most would have assumed, but instead my first race of the season was with the cat. 1,2 men. I thought it would be a good omen. Actually it was more just for training purposes, because you can’t really go any higher than the men’s 1,2 field. Well, I was definitely excited and ready to go out and kick some butt after a long, dull winter in the trainer (my rollers were out of commission for a while. I trained so hard that I snapped them right in half. If you ask Farrell he’ll say the molding was defective, but I like to think otherwise). Plus, I just received my brand new ABR license, even though I was a little bummed it didn’t rank me as Super Galactic Professional like I had asked. Oh well, maybe next year.
So the men’s 1,2 race began with a meager field of about 25 guys on the line (I was really hoping for a Superweek turnout of at least 120), but I still got my workout by sitting in and practiced basic pack-racing skills like moving up, holding my line through turns, fending off riders to keep my position and blowing snot on the rider behind me. Since a decent sized breakaway had gotten away early on in the race, I figured going for the win was futile, and besides that the wind was really a monster and nobody’s bridging attempts were making it very far. Rob Jungals attacked and stayed away to the finish on the last lap, while I attempted to secure a good position for the field sprint. I somehow went from third rider with half a lap to being boxed in at the back by the last straightaway, so I counted it as a pack finish. I was pretty pleased, though, with my first performance of the year, and I didn’t go home with an extra arm sticking out of my head from that scary factory.
The next weekend I showed up at Beloit with only one desire in my mind as I stepped out of the car—to go home. For some reason I had it in my mind the day before that it was going to be sunny and beautiful up at the crit/speedway, even though people were telling me left and right that it was going to miserable and possibly even snow. So when I arrived at the race the following weekend, I was actually surprised to find that it was really, really cold. And windy. And believe it or not, the course was even wider and flatter than Kenosha, seeing as though it was actually a racecar course.
I was even more surprised to find that about 12 women had actually decided to show up. Did they, too, share the same mental delusion as me? My own teammate, Sue, should have known better than this. She pretty much all but writes a research paper on every race she does. In fact, I wouldn’t doubt the odds of her knowing the ground temperature as well as the atmospheric pressure that day. The day before she had been wisely hesitant about going, but I coaxed her with super slick words and convinced her to suffer with me anyway.
So my original race strategy had been to wait until about halfway through the race to attack since it was 55 minutes long, and I figured that way I would conserve my own energy as well as whittle down the field’s. Well, it sure sounded like a good plan, but in reality I attacked on the first lap, sending my race strategy right out the window. Immediately a group of about five ladies formed and we worked together trading off pulls, steadily increasing our gap from the field. That’s pretty much all we did for 55 minutes. I decided not to attack since one of the riders was Kristen Wentworth, a super strong lady on Kenda Tire who is known for being a powerhouse. To attack her would be like me trying to wrestle a grizzly bear. Absolutely pointless. So I put my money on the final sprint, hoping she wasn’t amazing at that, too. The final lap arrived and Wentworth tried a beast of an attack, but I managed to catch her before any large distance was put between us. For the remainder of the lap I sat on her wheel and then began my sprint way too early and suffered all the way to the finish line. But I still won. And I got two waterbottles and a baselayer long-sleeve out of it. Hallelujah.
‘Till next time,
-Jessi
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