Prinner Report: Superweek

After obtaining 4 state championship jerseys in just two weeks (two USCF at Proctor and two ABR at Wooddale) I looked on to Junior Nationals as being my last opportunity at donning a championship jersey for this year.  But before I knew it, I had my eye fixed unwaveringly on another jersey, one that would take a weeks worth of strategical brains and a heck of a lot of pain to achieve.  Superweek, by no doubt, is the mother of all criterium races, where cyclists race until theyre permanently attached to their bicycles.  The womens 3/4 series this year was the longest its ever been before, with seven stages in eight days.  Seeing as though this would probably be my last year as a cat. 3, I decided to go out with a bang and prove that I deser ved an upgrade by claiming the overall jersey. 
I began my series by entering a few womens Pro 1,2,3 races, and quickly decided that these women really meant business when it came to racing.  I was nothing but a piece of lint that clung to the Great Granddaddy Shirt of the womens Pro peloton.  I was still a proud piece of lint, though, because out of the four times the Great Grandaddy Shirt went through the washing machine (for thats what the races felt like) Little Jessi Lint was only swept away once; I actually managed to cling on and finish respectably in each of the other three races.  One time I even attacked and gained a considerable margin on the field, out by myself on a solo breakaway for two laps, and I probably could have held it to the finish line if there hadnt been 48 laps left in the race.
Finally, my first day of racing as a cat. 3/4 came, and I felt empowered as I rolled up to the line at Evenston, surrounded by over 40 ladies.  I, Jessi Prinner, was a survivor, someone who had seen and experienced a higher and greater power than the womens 3/4. Comparing the Pro women to the women 3/4 is like comparing an ostrich and a hummingbird; the only similarity they have is that theyre birds.  I had become accustomed to super long races lasting 50 laps, and now with only 15 laps in the race I felt like the Duracell bunny as I attacked just about every other lap for the first 8 laps (after the race a French rider compared my racing style to that of a rifle; reload, cock the gun, fire!  Reload, cock the gun, fire!).  At long last one o f my attacks stuck, and better yet a team Revolution lady had come along on my wheel.  Lets work together!, I screamed as elated as can be.  With a strong partner, I knew this break could stick to the finish.  All was well and great as we worked well for about 20 seconds, and then I pulled through and that was the end of team Revolution lady. 
Okay, I thought to myself, I didnt need her anyway!  I can solo it to the finish!  Then I looked up and saw I had 7 laps to go.
Lets look on the positive side, says Jessi, At least its not 48 laps to go!
Somehow I managed to power through 5 laps with just a 30 second gap before the officials neutralized the race for a crash and declared me the automatic winner in the end.
Yeah, so the next 6 races really arent as interesting as the first one, so Im just going to recount some of the more memorable moments of each race.

Cedarburg:
On this hilly course I made a four-woman breakaway and lapped the field twice.  Im convinced it was all a conspiracy, though.  The field planned it that way so that they wouldnt have to ride the two extra laps.  Little did they know that I was the last one laughing, though, because all those suckers were the ones racing for fifth. I ended up taking 3rd with a crummy sprint in the end.

Whitnall Park RR:
Not much really happened on this curvy circuit course.  I attacked and attacked and attacked but nothing got away.  The race ended in a field sprint where I took 5th.

Racine.org crit:
Today I made secret alliences with two ladies named Jeannie and Andrea.  Jeannie is from New Zealand and Andrea is from Canada.  Watch out field, I have foreigners on my side.  One speaks British and the other speaks French.  Unfortunately it came down to a field sprint and with bad positioning I got 13th.  So much for foreign aid.
           
Kenosha:
            Today was a very invigorating day.  First, as I was riding back from registration, I cut my finger on the metal ladder leading to the officials stand.  Normally, Im not a baby when it comes to cuts and bruises, but I definitely started to freak out when I looked down and saw it squirting blood.  By the time I got back to the van, it looked like an extreme massacre had occurred.  My finger was completely red and blood dripped down my leg and bike.  I was convinced my finger was going to fall off.  Luckily we managed to save it by applying a butterfly stitch (my mother was so excited her eyes were practically popping out of her head.  Now remember, this is the same mother that ran over my head with her bike two years ago.  These things excite her). 
            And not only did I almost get my finger cut off, but I also saw spider-man!  I am pretty suspicious, though, that it might have been an imposter because last time I saw him, spider-man didnt have a beer belly.  My lycra was definitely tighter than his, too.
            Oh, and my race came down to a field sprint and I took 3rd.
           
The Great Downer Avenue Bike Race:
            My warm up consisted of watching a puppet show and then shopping at some of the many great stores along Downer Avenue.  The race itself was divided quickly as a break of about six formed up the road.  Not wanting to miss out on any of the fun, I bridged the gap and we ended up staying away the entire race.  The sprint was a drag race to the line between me and a Dairyland Girl named Anna, but I took the win by just a margin of inches.

Whitefish Bay:
            Since Lake Michegan wasnt far from the racecourse, my mom, a French racer (the same one that compared me to a rifle), and I decided to ride down to the beach and dip our legs in the water.  Sure, our spandex outfits seemed like an unconventional bathing suits, but by now I was used to all the weird stares I got from all the conventional-bathing-suit people.  Even though my tired legs pleaded with me not to leave, in the end Jessis rational brain won out and we left our spot of luxery on the beach to greet the hot, unwelcoming slab of pavement also known as our race course.  The field was smaller than usual due to the enticing purse of the Chicago crit, and I could tell all the ladies were feeling tire d and lazy from all the racing, but I pulled myself together for a final day in Superweek and sprinted for a final place of 3rd. 
            After a long and vigorous week of racing, I was glad when I could finally get on stage and claim my yellow leaders jersey that I worked so hard for.  Despite what anyone might say, riding in circles for 11 days straight is more exhausting than it seems, and Im proud to be able to say that my yellow jersey is living proof that I rode in circles the fastest.
            I bet not many people can say that.
 
Till next race…
-Jessi

Superweek Days 7 & 8: Rain, Pain & Return to the top 10

        The last two days the tired legs and minds have started to show at Superweek with eight of racing remaining! Fortunately, the forced off-days due to school and work has helped the ABD/GEARGRINDER riders and in Saturday’s eighth stage in Waukesha Rob White made the break of 13 riders to ultimately finish 8th and return the team to a top ten in the results. Jeff Schroetlin’s strong riding continues as well, as he escaped the field with four laps remaining in the race and held them off as he solo’ed to 14th place.
        The course for Friday’s stage in Ripon features tight turns and two challenging hills, so when the skies opened up it wreaked total havoc on the field. Several riders were dropped or crashed out every single lap, including overall leader Sterling Magnell, who fortunately returned to action on Satruday. ABD/GEARGRINDER rider Brett Stewart was the only finisher from the team, and although he rolled across the line last in the field, he still finished in 29th place!

Prinner Report: Cobb Park & Fox River Grove

Hey everyone,
So now that Ive completely blown off writing my rider reports for three weeks, I have about 8 races I need to recap. Not to worry, though, Im sure nobody in their right mind would actually want to read a report on 8 races all at once (much less write them), so Ill just start with the first three and save your time and sanity.
Cobb Park crit: Saturday June 21
It had been three years since my first encounter with Cobb Park, and the only thing I could really recall from that race was doing the wave on a bench by the lake/river for Mike Farrell as he bridged a gap to the front group in his race. I dont remember if we were trying to encourage him or distract him.
So anyway, the day I arrived in Cobb Park, I discovered two important factors in the case of my races: first, the race was going in the opposite direction than that of three years ago, and second, it was starting to thunderstorm. And so my warm-up for the womens cat. 3/4 race consisted of sitting in the car with my feet up on the dashboard as rain pelted my poor bicycle that was left outside.
Luckily, the rain stopped just before my first race and the sun came out just as all 15 ladies lined up for the womens cat. 3/4 race. The course was really quite simple and I sat at the back for the first few laps and just watched as the ladies battled for front position even though the field was tiny and we still had 40 min of racing left. Throughout the race the announcer called prime after prime and I took every single one of them, including the waterbottles, because I really had nothing else to do. I guess the announcer must have gotten pretty sick of me taking all the primes from the ladies because he finally started calling two place primes at the end of the race. And then the final lap came and I outsprinted the field by several bike-lengths, to take my first victory of the day.
Roughly 45 min. later, I lined up for the womens open race (80 percent of which was made up of 3/4 women who stuck around to make some more money). Two of the women were the same two Albertos ladies that I raced alone with in the Vernon Hills Grand prix. And as if it were a reply of that very race, all three of us ended up riding alone together, and the two of them kept me alert and constantly working to chase down their incessant attacks and counter-attacks. So thats pretty much how it went down. Attack. Counter attack. Attack. Counter attack. By the end of the race I practically had my head craned around backwards staring the other rider down, daring them to attack me one more time. Despite all their efforts and team strategy, though, it still wasnt enough because in the end I won anyway. Victory #2.
Along with medals and prize money, each winner of each race also got a pretty cool picture of a bench in cobb park ( ironically the same bench we did the wave on 3 years ago) and because I won both races I got two identical pictures. I think Ill hang them up next to each other.
Fox River Grove crit: Sunday June 22
Even though I had never done this crit, I knew there was no way I could miss it after hearing it had a giant ski hill that everyone hated. I love hills that people hate. One thing Ive always liked to do as I ascended to the top of these hills is turn and smile at my competitors, because then they hate it even more.
So as I sat on the line with my four other competitors in the womens 1,2,3 race, I didnt worry for a second that I hadnt done a lap on the course, much less even seen the hill. Maybe if I had actually ridden the course I would have known immediately that I had to turn left 50 ft from the start line. But the fact remains that I hadnt ridden the course, so instead of turning left 50 ft. from the line, I went straight. Yup, thats right, I somehow managed to go the wrong way in the first 50 ft. of my race. After being profusely yelled at by the cop standing at the corner (why didnt he tell me before I went straight? Better yet, why didnt anyone put up any friggin barricades?!?!?!?) I pulled a quick u-turn and took the correct left turn (now a right turn) when WHAM! I found myself on this really big hill. Yeah, I found the ski hill. And because it was a really big hill (that everybody hates) I just had to hammer like a mad-women up it, shooting past the entire fi eld (of four women!),opening an instant gap.
Jessis Brain: "Attack! Attack! Ride away! Faster!"
(Makes right hand turn)
Jessis Brain: "Attack! Att….oh god. Wheres the top."
Now because I hadnt ridden the course beforehand, I underestimated the length of the hill, and being the airhead that I am, made a right turn and came to the rough realization that the top was really, really far away. Sometimes I wonder if all I have in my skull is a clump of scrambled eggs. It wouldnt surprise me.
Luckily, fortune and strength were on my side today, and I managed to keep my lead the entire race, finishing about a minute ahead of second place, to take my third victory of the weekend. And thats not the only victory I made either….after the race I had to make a brief speech on the podium, and even though it was exactly stellar, it also wasnt half bad at the same time. And I didnt even use a notecard.
Till next time…
-Jessi

ABD Multisport - Podium Finishes!

ABD Multisport had a couple impressive performances at this weekends

8th Annual Tinley Park Duathlon.

In the individual Age Group competion, Scott Pahl took 1st place in
the 50-54 Age Group competion. He seems to be in pretty good early
season running shape, comming off a recent good Half-Marathon. Scott
also placed 15th overall....in a field of over 500 competitors.

Good Job Scott!

In the Male Team competition Rob Jungels & I (Bob Marshall), secured
2nd place. Having to start in the 4th wave....9 minutes after after
1st wave start, made for a lot of wieving-in-and-out for the both of
us, especially Rob's bike leg, which could have been,just plain dangerous.

I got off to a slowish, sub-par 1st run leg...2 miles in 12:53, held
back too way too much....about 25-30 seconds slower than anticipated.
I guess 3 runs per week just doesn't cut it!

Rob's bike leg, however was the talk of the day. His bike split was
24:48, which not only was the fastest bike split of the day, but also
beat Scott Pearson's "All-Time" previous Course Record of 25:13 in
2006. That's an outstanding 26.6 mph average, not to mention the
extra distance he did, having to wieve, in-and-out of quite a few people.

Rob stayed calm & focused, just like he always does when "Time Trailing".

Wow, Rob...."You-The-Man"!

Finally, the transition to second run was good, and my second run
12:49...however, the 1st place Male Team runner, just plain ran me
down...ran a very fast 2nd run...I think 11:08. We did however, seem
to put over two minutes on
the 3rd place Male Team.

All for now,

Bob Marshall

Prinner Report: Wisconsin RR and Carrol County

Hello ABD,

The race options for the weekend of the 7^th were indeed quite sparse,
so I settled on the Wisconsin State Championship RR seeing as though it
was the only race that was remotely close. If I could have foreseen the
tragic outcome of this race, though, I would have definitely not gone at
all.

The entirety of the women's cat. 1,2,3 race was 39 miles; six laps, each
totaling 6.5 miles each, with a long and severely steep climb to the
finish line. On arrival, I had expected to complete the entire six laps,
but little did I know that I would end up doing only about 1.5 laps
total, roughly adding up to a whopping 10 miles.

As I stood at the staging area of the course with the other 15 or so
ladies, the USCF official clearly explained to us the rules and
guidelines for our race. And just as she asked, "So, are there any
questions?" a very loud crack of lightening light the sky, and one lady
immediately inquired, "What do we do if it starts to thunderstorm?". The
USCF official replied that they would stop the race at the start/finish
line if deemed necessary. And, of course, being the teenager I am, I
scoffed at such a thought, because I happened to know that USCF wouldn't
stop a race even if a tornado came down and chucked the entire women's
field off to the land of Oz. They'd just put a lap counter on the yellow
brick road and tell us to keep racing.

So the race started out quite fine with a neutral start to the line, and
the race commenced as soon as we topped the hill. The field pretty much
stayed together for the first lap and as we began our second lap it
started to rain on us. Normally I don't mind rain at all whether it be
on a ride or in a race, but I soon started to question my indifference
as the rain quickly turned to fast, pelting drops, with qualities
similar to that of hail. And not only that, but by that time lightening
was crashing across the sky, officially making it a thunderstorm.
Nonetheless the women continued racing seemingly unbothered by the
abhorrent wind and rain, that is, until a colossal bolt of lightening
crashed not farther than a mile away followed by a tremendous boom of
thunder that literally shook the peloton. And in perfect unison we all
synchronically slammed on our brakes and came to a screeching halt,
refusing to race a second longer under the "conditions". The pacecar,
not knowing that t he women had quite suddenly stopped their race, drove
away.

After a quick discussion on the situation at hand, the majority vote was
to go back to registration/staging and huddle under the nearest tent we
could find, so, indeed, we all turned around and peddled back to
registration and engaged in some serious huddling.

Roughly 45 minutes later, after we had plenty of time to stand freezing
in the pelting rain, and after about a third of the women's field left
to go home, the race officials finally decided to start the race again,
this time with only two laps to go. So we set off again into the harsh,
darkening clouds, like the lone survivors of a natural disaster. Not
more than two miles into the race, just as my legs were beginning to
warm up, I began to feel a distinguished bounciness with my bicycle that
makes every cycling veteran cringe, and knew I had a flat even before I
looked down to see my tire deflating like a sad balloon. So, for the
second time this year I got off my bike and stood by the side of the
road looking very much like a scrappy teenager, and weighing the option
of whether or not to knock on someone's door and ask to use their phone.
Luckily, a generous rider let me use his phone as he happened by so I
could call my dad and sadly abandon the race. And, to this day, I wond
er if some higher power such as God or Buddha was trying to send me a
message at the race, something like, "DON'T DO THE WISCONSIN STATE ROAD
RACE". I just wish they could have given me the flat in the first place
and saved me all the trouble.

The next weekend I showed up at the Carroll County Road Race with
brand-new, heavy-duty-thick, hard-case tires. Take THAT God/Buddha. I
wanna see you try to give me a flat NOW.

As we waited for the race to start at staging, the five other women and
me planned everything out. Since there was only one women in each
category, and we'd all technically won already, we decided we would stop
at Dairy Queen during the race, then perhaps go shopping a bit (maybe
get a new outfit), and then just before we reached the finish line we'd
pull over and apply our make-up so that we could look our best for the
finishing photo. That, of course, was all curbed when the race officials
decided to make us race with the 50+ men, because we all know that Jessi
Prinner switches into her beat-the-snot-out-of-everybody mode as soon as
any mention of competition arises. Not that I'm trying to demote the
women in any way, but racing really loses its competitive edge when
you've already won your category just by showing up.

The race started out fast and fierce with all the steep hills at the
beginning of the race, but it's exactly the kind of meat I feed on. The
50+ men's pack diminished quickly and all the other women but one soon
disappeared. The hills seemed to be the perfect spot for attacks, and
one break of two riders got away early on one of the climbs, leaving the
pack to be torn by several counterattacks that were all in attempt to
bridge the gap. One so rider who attacked about 45543214645646 times was
Richard Adamczckcksk (a Polish LOT rider who has one of those polish
last names that are impossible to spell, much less pronounce). In his
last attempt at a chase, he attacked again off the front, and because
everyone was so sick of chasing him down, they pretty much just let him
go. In seeing some potential at this break, I bridged up to
Adamczkzczszk, and our gap quickly grew from the field. Then, looking
back one more time to see how much ground we'd gained, I practically
fell off my sad dle at what I saw; the field was gone.

Now I know what you're all thinking, you're all asking, "How is it
possible to completely lose the field in just a matter of seconds?!?".
Well, it's actually quite simple. We missed a turn.

As soon as I noticed some stragglers off the back turning a few hundred
meters behind us I slammed on the breaks (cursing at such a misfortune)
and starting screaming at Adamzsckszszk to turn around. Later, as I
found out, there was actually no sign at the corner where we were
supposed to turn, and only the riders who had pre-driven the course knew
to turn there.

So by the time I got turned around and back on track I had already lost
sight of the pack, and soon lost Adamzcszkzk's wheel as he rode off like
a maniac determined to win the Tour de France. And so I pretty much rode
the last 40 miles by myself, battling mentally to keep going as I fought
with a fierce, relentless headwind. I could feel my
beat-the-snot-out-of-everyone mode quickly waning with every mile
because of the fact that there really wasn't anyone to beat the snot out
of. In one flat section near the end I was literally on the verge of
tears and was contemplating the option of pulling over and chucking my
bike in a ditch and calling for a ride. Frustrated and pissed off, I
screamed curses at the gusting winds as I inched along at 14 mph. The
end seemed impossibly far away as my legs and back cramped up to the
point where I could hardly shift in the saddle.

Finally, I rounded a turn and right smack dab before my eyes was the
finish line, sitting there so calm and intent as if it were just as
happy to greet me as I was to greet it. And better yet I didn't get a
flat tire. And it didn't thunderstorm. And I won my category and got
this super-cool looking trophy.

After I crossed the finish line I stopped and laid under a tree and
drooled all over the place like a scrappy teenager. Hey, not everything
in life is coated in gold.

'till next time,

-Jessi Prinner

LaRue Report: Carrol County

Hello, I was in the race with Steve and Theo far a few climbs. I got dropped on the last big climb. Sorry Steve and Theo I wanted to be there to help one of you win. After being dropped I waited for Mike Redlich and we started riding together. Some how we missed a turn. As did several other people. We found our way back on the course just in time for Mikes frame to snap in half. We stopped and looked at his bike in amassment. I got back on my bike and heading to the next stop to tell Nancy to go pick Mike up. I waited for the 4's to catch me so I could have a free ride back to the finish. When they caught me there were a couple of ABD riders in the pack of 12. I sat in the back for a while. I went back to the support vehicle and asked if I could work with this group. The answer was I guess! So, I chased a couple of breaks down. And tried to do some long pulls at the front so ABD didn't have to. I think Jason got 2nd or 3rd. I hope that it helped him out. I have the same feelings about this race as Steve. I will come back next year and try to hang with the 1-2-3's. This is the 2nd year I have been dropped on the climbs. It's personal know. I must come back until I have a good result. I thought after being in England and doing a lot of climbing I would have done much better than I did. Till next year.

David __,_._,___

Parrish Report: Carrol County Cat 3's

The past three years, Theo and I have finished 2nd twice, 3rd and 4th but never first. With 10 miles or so to go, this looked to be our year. The 3's were whittled down to four with Theo and myself in the group with some remnants of the Masters 30 and Masters 40 field. The other two 3's were on different teams, so Theo and I should have managed at least a first right? There was some confusion as to how far out we were from the finish, my computer read 55 and they had said that the distance would be 60 miles. I was running on fumes and I knew if we went too early I wouldn't make it. So we waited. As it turns out, we rotated off the front of the paceline right before the finish and were not in good position as the actual finish approached. Theo managed to jump, I managed to explode and we finished 3rd and 4th. Bridesmaids again. Despite my annual announcement that 'this is my last year at this race', we'll be back next year to try again. Maybe they'll have that gravel fixed by next year.

All of the fields were awash in ABD colors, so it would be great to hear some of the other results....