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

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

Freund San Dimas Race Report

Hey everyone,

So here is how the San Dimas Stage Race which included an uphill 3.8
mile TT on Friday, a road race Saturday and a Crit on sunday went from
my prospective.

Well the TT wasn't great. I had a good warm up, I felt pretty good,
and unlike Carter I don't mind TT's usually. However, I've never done
an uphill TT and to make things worse I went out a little too hard.
This is my biggest problem for TTs. I mean I tell myself to relax
don't go out too hard and I don't think that I went too hard from the
gun but it was after maybe 1/2 a K, when I got my 30 sec man in my
sites. Then I started to go too hard I caught and passed him probably
in the first K. I relized however I was going too hard too soon but I
could already see my 1 minute man and I kept the hammer down. I caught
and passed him probably around the 3K mark. So I still felt decent
for about another 20 seconds then I suffered the most just after half
way and before the last quarter of the race and it wasn't a good
suffer. It was the you have too much lactic in your legs and you will
slow down. This is not good because it is the section I should have
been going my hardest. So all in all I ended up with 15:26 in ninth
place. My first thought was "wow not good I hope Ebert doesn't kick
me off the team". Well maybe it wasn't that extreme but I was not
happy. Well it was on to the road race.

In the RR there were time bonuses available on lap 3,5,7 and also on
the finish. The race was very non-aggresive, barely any attacks and
the few that there were, were half hearted solo efforts which would
get chased down almost with easy. This is very different from the few
colligiate races that I've had this year which usually have relentless
attacks fro the gun. Everyone went hard on the climb but crawled over
the top taking time to recover. The pace was constantly up and down
but never that hard. So on the 3rd lap I attacked over the top of the
second climb about 3k's from the finish. I had a decent gap, however
I was caught on the long straight to the finish with about 150 meters
to go. So on lap 5 I took 3rd in the field sprint and then got myself
into the only break of the day that seemed like it might have a
chance. There was four of us and one of the guys was in the top ten
with me. I think we may have had 30 seconds or more at one point and
even put the two's field inbetween us and the main pack. We were
about to catch another large group of riders from another field but my
breakmates lost there legs. One dropped off the back while I tried to
power us over one of the climbs and the other 2 didn't want to pull
anymore. I tried to push the pace taking the lead for the entire
first climb but I could tell they were done. We ended up getting
caught just before the end of lap 7th however I took 4th in the field
sprint just out points/time bonus placing. So I sat in for the final
lap waiting for the field sprint. I ended up in eighth. Not very
good. However I learned some things from these field sprints which
prior to this I haven't had too much exspierence..
1. Enroll in Josh Carter Sprinting classes. 2. I was in too big of
gear for this sprint. 3. I was positioned too far up in the field
with a straight away that is 1k long. Lastly at the end of the sprint
I need to start looking for holes and the line rather than wheels. 4.
Enroll in advanced sprinting tactics with professor Carter.

Sunday the Crit. Well you could say I'm consistant because I took 4th
again in the time bonus sprint and eigth for the stage in another
field sprint. This race was another race which doesn't exactly suit
my tactics. It was decently fast with no real attacks and everything
getting chased down. It seemed as if everyone was content with a
sprint finish. I wanted to sit in and launch an attack with 2 laps to
go however someone stole my thunder and attacked with 3.5 laps to go
and I would have joined him but I was not in position. There was a
large team of Bishop guys there who had a couple guys in the top 5 and
they chased hard and kept the pace high. We caught the rider with
about 500 meters to go. I was a little spent for the sprint finish
because I kept following wheels that where going the wrong direction
so I had to keep excellerating to get myself in position (not making
any friends having to force my way back into line). Needless to say
the sprint was subpar. So a 8th place finish for the stage and 8th on
the GC.

All in all it was a great week in Cali. Great training and good
racing. Also good company, thanks again to Ebert and Rosa for putting
up with me for a week.

Ryan

Carter Report: Pace bend RR and Walburg RR

Hi ABD'ers

 

Thought I would drop a short recap of the races down here.  I will start with Valley of the Sun in Phoenix, AZ.  It was a 3 day stage race with a TT, RR, and Crit based on time.  Now, it is no seceret that I hate TT's, but I actually was ready to really try and do well at this one, full on areo set up.  5k into the 22k TT I managed to find the biggest nail on the rode that went clean through my wheel.  Two thoughts went through my head: 1st- I am so glad that I have a great excuse as to why I did not do well.  2nd- Oh crap I have to ride the next 17k on a flat wheel so I can start the next day, I hope somebody will be there to score me in a hour or so.  Lucky for me they had a sweeper to pick people up in my situation and they gave me 5 minutes slower than the slowest time of the day, so I could start the next day.  RR went well, the results show me as getting 2nd (and I still would have done well) but with 1k to go they neutralized our finish because of a crash at the finish line in the 3s race.  So it did not really count.  The Crit went well also, long story shot, a Rock Racing guy and Waste Management guy got off the front with 1 lap to go and I got 2nd in the field sprint for 4th.

 

This last weekend I went the suburbs of Austin, TX to the Walburg and Pace Bend RRs (two big TX races that everyone has been talking about).  Saturday was Walburg- it was a long hard day in the saddle.  We had cold, clouds, rain, sun, warm, and wind (a lot of wind).  It was so windy that for about 5 miles in the cross wind I was trying to control my deep carbon Bontrager wheels at an angle as if I where going through a corner (only I was going straight).  I could feel my bike sliding sideways on the wet road.  I missed the 3 man break.  In the last 10 miles a 4th guy got away and I won the sprint for 5th.  Sunday was Pace Bend, it was a very cool race.  A 6.2 mile fully enclosed wide road loop with rolling climbs and a lot of dudes (130+ starters)  I quickly figured out that this race was going to come to a field sprint, it was too easy to sit in and to many guys with fresh legs.  Now with that being said it made it very hard to position for the finish.  There was a corner 400 meters to the finish and it was all up hill (not exactly my cup of tea) but I was ready for the fight.  I got boxed in coming out of the corner and had to soft pedal to get an open lane with 200 meters to go.  I got boxed in again and soft pedaled to get the line.  By the time I hit the finish I had caught all but 1 guy, all I needed was 10 more meters, but that is bike racing.  I will take 2nd place anytime.  That is all the races I have to report for now!  I will be at it again this weekend at Lago Vista.  Wish me luck!

 

~Josh

 

The Nowak Ski Trail Report

Hey all ABD'ers, there are some AWESOME x-country skiing conditions in the area.  Here is my first hand update on the local and some not so local trails.

The DuPage Forest preserves are in pretty good shape.  I classic skied Herrick Lake on Monday and the tracks were very good (other than one area where an old lady was walking in them).  The skate area had a lot of walking traffic, but looked to be decent.  Also checked out Arrowhead Golf Course and there was a nice wide skate lane.  The tracks there were not as good as Herrick Lake.

Also checked out Blackwell FP and the conditions were similar to Herrick Lake.

My personal favorite, Deer Grove FP in Palatine has EXCELLENT conditions right now.  This is all self groomed by the skiers there (i.e. me and a few other guys).  There is an unused road that travels from the west-most parking lot off of Dundee Rd. east for about 5K that is in very good condition right now.  It is very firm and getting fast.  There are also a large network of skied-in tracks that are getting worn, but overall they are pretty good.

Also, Rockford has a nice system at Rock Cut St. Park.  Check out the link below for Northern IL Nordic.

For those of you looking for a bit more adventure and challenge, I highly recommend the South Kettle area by Eagle, WI.  The Nordic trail system is in excellent condition right now and the DNR of WI does an great job of grooming.  If you are looking for a more challenging and anaerobic workout the trails at McMiller are also excellent.  This is also a shooting range and during the weekends it can be a bit concerning hearing gun shots.  However, this is a World Cup level trail and will leave you gasping.

Here are a few links for more info if you are interested.

Ski Reports:
http://www.skinnyski.com/
http://www.laphampeakfriends.org/ViewSkireportsExpanded.php
http://ninordic.org

http://www.dnr.state.wi.us


Hope to see you out there.  Feel free to send any ski related questions, I'd be more than happy to answer them.

Jim

Paul Z's Prairie Path Update- 9/16/08

Thanks to all who replied about conditions on the paths and roads. I
went out this evening from Mile Marker Zero in Wheaton to Powis and Army
Trail. Despite Saturday's deluge and the remnants of Hurricane Ike, the
path is in pretty decent shape. However, there are a few sections that
were under water and will put you on your butt if you aren't careful.
The washouts left washboard sections that are guaranteed end-O's if you
hit them at speed on a skinny tire bike. The worst parts are near Prince
Crossing Road -- about one-quarter mile to the east and the other is
immediately after the IPP splits from the Great Western. Besides the
ruts and bumps, there's a dangerous mix of sand and loose gravel. Take
it slow and you'll be OK. Or set your front shock for full travel and
don't let go of the bars!

On the pavement, Powis will probably be open tomorrow. I rode north from
Army Trail to Stearns (in spite of the barricades and ROAD CLOSED sign),
and there's one small section with standing water near the recreation
area, just south of the railroad tracks. The water was no more than 2
inches deep on the crown of the road.

Munger is another story. While the water has receded quite a bit since
the weekend, it's hub-deep at the low spot, and about 70 meters are
submerged just north of the railroad tracks. There are a couple of wet
sections between Forest Preserve Drive on the north and Army Trail on
the south where you'll have to slow down.

Well, I have to go change the newspaper in my soggy cycling shoes...

Later,
.pcz
__._,_.___

Allison Moe Report: Wisconsin Triathlon

Race Report- Ironman Wisconsin 2008

What a journey!!! As I reflect on my first Ironman, there are so many thoughts that are going through my head. I am so fortunate to have the opportunity to do these types of things. Every starting line is a gift and every finish line is a reward. Doing the Ironman is simply amazing.

The Swim 1:20

Heading out to the swim was one of the coolest things that I have ever done. You have all these bobbing heads out there and you look back on shore and see thousands of spectators lining the Monona Terrace. There was so much energy coming from all the athletes, and at that point, it hit me that I was actually here doing this thing! I truly enjoyed the swim. It was what I expected. The "human washing machine" that everyone talks about was an experience. You expect to get kicked and hit, and the first turn around the buoy was pretty rough. But there was

an excitement to it that made the swim so much fun.  I thought the swim was so great, but then it got better. I loved having

the volunteers strip the wetsuit off. Every triathlon needs to offer that service. And the run up the helix, again, that was just another really cool aspect of IMW.  I loved seeing the MSM crowd about halfway up. 

The Bike 7:01

I love to bike, and I was so happy to get to the bike. I was anxious to

head out to the hills as I knew that there would be roads lined with people. The entire bike felt good. The crowds were awesome. There were so many people from MSM out on the "second bitch." And I wasn't expecting to see a band with a trombone and tuba player, but then again,

there are a lot of crazy things happening out there. The ride into Verona was another high point with about a mile of roads line with spectators. And my mom was waiting at the end of the road. I was able to

wave so she knew I was coming, and she got some pictures. The second loop was much of the same, just with a little more wind in my face. But

the last 14 miles back into Madison had a tail wind so that was helpful.

At that point, I was really ready to get off the bike and looking forward to the marathon. The ride up the helix was great, and I pulled into transition to a loud reception from my cheering section. They were

all there waiting for me and as I headed into the building, they followed me in and surprised me again! That was a great feeling.

The Run 6:16

I had no idea how this was going to go. I was excited to run and my legs felt pretty good coming off the bike. Heading into downtown Madison

was a terrific feeling. The roads were packed, the atmosphere was loud.

I saw my coach Mike at the start and he gave me a few tips and sent me on my way. Around the corner, my cheering section was waiting for me again. I had forgotten that our race bibs had our names on it so at first, I was waving to everyone that yelled "Go Moe!" Pretty soon I

realized that they all really didn't know me, they just looked at my bib. It was great to hear people yell "Go Madness." It was so nice to have the jersey on and hear shouts of encouragement from the club members (athletes, volunteers, and margarita drinking spectators)! The first 13 miles felt pretty good, and the start of the second loop went well. After leaving Camp Randall Stadium for the second time, I started

to hit a major wall. I ended up walking most of miles 18-22. It was dark, there were many hills (how come no one seemed to warn me about Observatory Rd???), and my body was just tired. Luckily I met up with Donna who seemed to be in the same mode as me. So we walked and talked.

At one point, we even tried mental math. We were trying to figure out if

we maintained a 15 minute/mile walking pace, what time we would finish.

But mental math at that point in the day wasn't a good idea. So we just kept moving forward and celebrated every time we passed a mile marker. At about 9:00, it started to rain. Nothing bad, but it was just

enough to get us moving. We started to shuffle our way back in (there wasn't much running at this point, just shuffling). Coming into the last mile, I saw Coach Mike, and I knew that this was going to happen. I

couldn't muster up much speed at that point, but when I hit State St.

for the final time, the crowds were still loud and full of people (many

who had spent  a good chunk of time at the bars all day). At that point,

I started to get a little choked up but realized I wouldn't be able to

breathe if I kept that up. So I pulled it together and enjoyed rounding

the Capitol one last time. Making that final turn was the greatest feeling in the world. The lights were bright, the crowds were pumped, and the music was blaring. There was a party going on on that street! And then I entered the final stretch, and I let out a huge yell. As I began the run in, I heard Mike Reilly speak those precious words, "Allison Moe, you are an Ironman." And that was what I had waited to hear all day. It was the moment that I had imagined in my head every

day for the past year. It will be a moment that I will always remember and replay in my head for the rest of my life. I was able to yell a little more, pump my arms, and do a little jump  and moved on through the finisher's chute. And thank goodness Jaime was there to meet me right after I finished because all the energy just left my body. After a

few slices of pizza though, the energy was back. 

The End 14:58:21

After finishing, I was able to make my way back into the hotel lounge, and I thought I was still mentally a little shaky as I saw that the Bears were going to bet the Colts. But no, that was actually happening.

I showered and was going to head into bed, but there was still a party going on outside of the hotel and all I could hear was Mike Reilly's voice. So at about 11:15, my mom and I went down to watch the final finishers. That was the best part of the day. To walk down there and see

others finish, it made me so happy to be able to cheer for the others and see their excitement as they finished. The final woman came in at 16:59:56, and I imagine that she felt just as good as the first place finisher. 

Thanks

There are so many people that were a part of the Ironman journey. 

Bethann- we made it a point to do this with smiles and that we did!! Thank you for doing this entire thing with me from start to finish. 

Coach Mike- you are a man of your word. You told me you would get me to

the starting line healthy. And when I got injured back in March and had

those 6 weeks on crutches, you brought me back slowly, and you got me stronger that I had been pre-injury. On that note, my doctor and PT were

awesome and understood that my recovery needed to involve training for the Ironman.

My family and friends- anytime you asked about training or about triathlons, you allowed me to talk about what I love to do. Thanks to everyone who supported me throughout the training, came to watch, tracked online, or simply wished me luck. Boot Campers rock!

Mom- you were a trooper getting up at 4:30, taking pictures and running

around all day, and even watched the last racers! You are an Ironfan!

September 13, 2009- Ironman Wisconsin, I can't wait to do this again!

Allison Moe

Assistant Principal and Athletic Director moea@ccsd93.com

Jay Stream Middle School

283 El Paso Ln.

Carol Stream, IL 60188

P-(630)462-8949

Fax (630)462-9224

Prinner's Junior Nationals report (finally!)

Hello ABD,

There is no doubt that this year's Junior National Championships hosted some of the most exciting and challenging races, not to mention being located in sunny California, which tied together a fun vacation and a memorable experience.  Nomatter how many pages I cover this story in, it will still never include the entirely of the trip, so I figure I'll just pick out the highlights and not bore my readers with the nitty gritty facts.

                Never before had I ridden a bicycle in California, or been to Los Angeles, so that in itself proved to be an adventure.  Road Nationals were first on the agenda, so we stayed in a leaky hotel in Anaheim, within walking distance from Disneyland, where our podium presentations were to be held.  From the outside, our hotel looked like the face of luxury, but after just two days there, we realized it was literally falling apart from within.  It was everything from beaten in drawers, to broken toilets, to leaking air conditioners that made us wonder what bigger problems the place might be hiding.  Luckily, though, with my honed survival skills, I was able to make do with what we had (bed pans aren't out of style yet, are they? Just kidding.)

My first event was to be the individual time trial, which, luckily, I had my "super tripped out TT bike" for.  If there was a TV show called "Pimp my bicycle", my TT bike would definitely not be on it.  In fact, my TT bike was really an imposter, because it was, in fact, just my road bike with a cheap pair of TT bars clamped on it.  Fortunately, I happen to be a top-notch bike expert, and that imposter TT bike didn't fool me for a second, because as soon as I lifted my bike up I realized it weighed about 70 pounds extra due to the cheap TT bars.  If I ever buy my own boat, I will use those TT bars as my anchor (when I'm not using them for my "TT bike" of course).

                The course itself consisted of long, gradual hills that made it feel as though my wheel was super-glued to the pavement, and the blazing hot sun did nothing to improve the scene.  After a hard effort I rode into 3^rd place, just day one of a long two weeks of racing.

                The next day I arrived at the criterium course, which was literally located in the Angels Stadium parking lot.  The course wasn't much better than any other National crit course I've ever experienced, which means that it was pretty pitiful.  It pretty much looked like a giant blob with a loop at one end, and was fenced off with the usual iron gates used for a crit.  The day was about as hot as the previous day, and my wheels were practically melted to the pavement by the time the ref blew the whistle, where Coryn (the girl who won the TT) literally attacked as soon as she clipped in.  After looking around and decidin g that nobody else was going to chase (it was the first lap for Christ's sake!) I took the lead and quickly closed the gap before the end of the first lap.  The race continued as attack after attack was launched, and despite all my crafty sly moves, I didn't succeed in making a break for the larger part of the race.  Then, just about the time the sun and attacks were starting to wear everyone down, a solo move got away, and gained a quick lead as nobody attempted to chase right away.  As soon as everyone realized that the gap was 30 seconds and getting larger, it was too late, and scattered attacks and failed attempts to work together only added to our demise.  I did virtually no work in the chase, and made a flyer on the final lap of the race, managing to slide into second place.

The next day hosted the junior women's RR, which, was dishearteningly flat considering we were in California.  This race would soon turn out to be perhaps one of the most disappointing races of my young cycling career.  That very day happened to be one of those rare days where a rider hops on their bicycle only to feel like they're lugging a 20 ton load of potatoes.  This tends not to bode well in a National Event.  The combination of national event stress (which was pretty high at the time) and empty legs only furthered my discouragement, and just several laps into the race (personally I think road races should not be allowed to have laps), I made possibly the worst choice I have ever made in a bike race.  Despite my constant efforts at a chase, my legs were just not up to par and I could not make any moves that occurred early on in the race.  I soon ended up in the third chase group, and barely hanging on at that.  When it got to the point that my frustration and disappointment became overwhelming, I dejectedly slammed on the brakes and pulled out of the race.  Now, looking back on my impulsive choice, I only feel regret and remorse, and quickly learned that nomatter what plays out in a bike race, to never just throw in the towel when it seems as though all hope is lost, because giving up is the greatest form of failure.   Sometimes, as I have learned, you have to experience things the hard way to truly learn from them, and now that I see the mistake in my choice, I'm determine d to never let negativity or frustration get in the way of a race, or any other aspect of my life for that matter, again.

Just a week passed after road nationals before track nationals began, and we packed up all 80 tons of equiptment into our rental mini van and headed for long beach, where the events were to be held on the ADT event center track in Carson.  This track was a unique sort in the fact that it was a wooden track composed of Siberian Pine, is one of the only indoor tracks in the U.S., and being just 250 meters in length, it had roughly 46 degrees in banking.  All I can say is that it's definitely quite a bit steeper than Northbrook, my native track.  In fact, the straightaways on the ADT velodrome are indeed steeper than the steepest turn on the Northbrook velodrome.   

I was just a slight bit apprehensive about racing on this track because it was very much unlike any track I had ever ridden before.  It is certainly at a rider's advantage to ride on their home track because a true track racer knows all the kit and caboodle about their own track from the scantiest bumps to the feel of the surface and the pull of the banking.  I virtually knew nothing of these properties at the ADT velodrome.  To prove this statement, one must simply know of my very first experience on this track. 

Before being allowed to just ride the velodrome, a rider has to first get certified to make sure they know how to stay upright on this scary-looking structure.  I began by riding around on the apron, which, in track jargon, is the innermost surface of the track and is completely flat.  After several laps I gained enough courage to leap up onto the real track itself and begin my adventure in track riding.  All was great, and I felt exhilarated at the exotic feel of the smooth wood under my tire as I chugged along on the first straightaway of the loop.  Everything so far was going wonderfully, and for about 50 feet I got to feel the satisfaction of staying up right on the daunting  ADT velodrome.  Then, unfortunately, I hit the first turn and realized that it was very, very steep, and even worse, that I really wasn't going all that fast.  It didn't take long for Gravity to put two in two together and come to the conclusion that me staying upright around that turn at that velocity would pretty much defy all the laws of physics.  And so my 50 feet of exhilarating ADT experience came to a quick and jarring halt as my tires slid out from under me, sending me sprawling down the track.  Perhaps the only good thing about falling off a 46 degree angle is that by the time you hit the bottom you literally off the track, and therefore can no longer get in anyone's way, like, say a paceline of 20 riders flying thr ough at 30 mph.

So with several days of practice under my belt, I felt a bit more confident for my first event: the sprint competition.  This event tends to be pretty complex with more rules than any one person can handle, but the basic idea is that riders are matched in pairs and have just three laps to figure out how to outsprint the other one.   The winner moves on to the next round where they go head to head with another qualifier, and so on and so forth until the final round where the two final contestants race for the gold. 

                Well, I happened to be matched with a newbie in the first round who was really quite as lost in as I was about how to race a match sprint.  Now you may think that this is a good thing, but let me assure you, it's not.  There's nothing scarier than having two novices out on the track trying to race a world class event.  Exactly how those world class people do it, I don't know, because as soon as we hit turn one after just one lap on the track, I realized for the second time that week that gravity was not so forgiving.  It didn't help much, either, that we were at the very top of the track.   My competitor was the first to go, and as soon as she hit the track I made the mistake of looking down, because when I did, I realized it was a long, long way down.  So what did I do?   I went down after her.  Is anyone actually surprised?

                Just a little bit of rug burn on my arm and leg and I was livid.  We started the round over (both of us kept a pretty good pace through turn one I must say) and I outsprinted her in the final stretch to move on to the next round. 

                My victories were short lived, though, because I lost the second round to take 7^th place.

The next day wasn't much better either.  I've never had a very good history of 500 meter TTs, and that day proved it because I took 14^th place after a shaky start and slow run.

After that came the scratch race, the first mass start race and my best opportunity for a good place.  The race was splintered with a series of attacks, none of which got away, and the race was neutralized by a crash with just 6 laps to go.  The field became desperate as the laps counted down, but every move never made it far, and it was sure to be a field sprint.  I learned quite a harsh lesson on the ADT about field sprints on a 250 meter velodrome: everyone pretty much finishes in whatever place they're in on the last lap of the race.  It really isn't much of a field sprint at all.  Seeing as though I was in roughly 5^th position on the final lap, that's exactly where I ended up finishin g.   5^th place wasn't so bad considering it was my first mass start on the track, but still just a tiny bit disappointing considering my past results.

Finally, the last day in my track competition arrived, and I was ready to take on the points race seeing as though it was probably my best of all the races.  The race started out calm for the first 9 laps, just a pack of cyclists riding in circles, until the first bell rang to signify a points sprint.  From then on the field was just a shattered remnant of a peloton, because four girls made it off the front to eventually lap the field, and I happened to be one of them.  In a points race, when a rider laps the field, they achieve 20 points, so by doing so the four of us pretty much secured out top four places in the race.  Sadly, though, I was unable to make podium because I missed out on third by one point, taking fourth place. 

In an accumulation of points I took 7^th overall, no doubt so low because of my low placings in the sprint and TT competitions, but still decent for such a tough week of racing. 

Overall I'm pretty satisfied with my Nationals results, but most importantly, I learned a lot about my strengths and weaknesses, and know what to improve for next year.  Going to California and racing on such an extreme track as the ADT was a great experience, not to mention I really enjoyed riding and racing on it, and sometimes struggling on a difficult new discipline is better than breezing through something you know really well.  The quick, harsh lessons I learned on the Carson velodrome will certainly aid me in years to come, because next time I race a 250 meter track I'll at least have some experience it won't take me by surprise like it did this year.

And that concludes California.

Till next year…

-Jessi

__,_._,___

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....

Spencer Report: Tour de Winghaven

Winghaven Race Report:

The team headed down to just west of St. Louis to do the Tour of Winghaven this past weekend. This is a large payout and the team was keen to do well. Rob White and I drove down on Sunday morning as the challenges of balancing family, work and racing can prove tough at times. We decided to compromise by being gone all day on Sunday. I think it is fair to say that both of us married VERY understanding women who clearly don't know how much better they could have had it. But, I digress...

While the sun appears to be in the sky each day, it actually lives just west of St. Louis and our race was held on it. It was roughly 100 degrees at the start, but at least it was crazy windy. We were to do 75 miles over 25 laps at a 2:30pm start. The scheduling of this event is interesting in that it is held the same day as Philly, so with one exception there were zero pros in attendance. This is good and bad. Good because we stand a nice chance to make some money, bad because we are good and marked accordingly. Essentially, this is a regional race with a huge prize list and extra motivation to make a little money.

Jeff S. got into an early move of 6 which proved the winner. The heat and wind helped temper the chase a bit and they rolled on and on to get a good gap. Unfortunately a second group noodled away with no ABD/Geargrinder representation. I will say however, that there were a couple of other teams that put nobody in either move which meant they were now racing for 12th at best. Again, maybe the heat and wind played a factor, but I was quite surprised by the lack of cohesive response. I asked one leader of these teams what gives and was told where I could go and how I could go there. While I don't think it is physically possible to do the things he suggested, I understood this to mean he was disappointed in the proceedings. Jeff's group and the second group rolled away quite quickly never to be seen again.

The remainder of the field beat up on each other for what seemed like two days and finally we got some guys into some field splits. Fortunately for everyone the laps were dwindling. Jeff S. and his group actually caught my pitiful little band and we were given a reprimand by the officials that we could not help our teammates and to stay out of the mix. This was disappointing because at that point, it was the sole reason I was still pedaling around this crazy course and no one else in my group had a rider in Jeff's group. While I am not sure this is an accurate ruling, I was not in a position to argue and/or ignore it and hope we were not disqualified. So, we stayed out of the way and I pulled out with 2 to go.

I find that Karma has a way of being kind sometimes. As a team, we respect our competitors and all associated with any event we attend. We have had a couple instances this year where the result may have suffered, but the team felt we did things the right way. It is my feeling that this paid huge dividends as with 1.5 laps to go Jeff crashed. John Meyers happened to be right by him and was able to give his wheel to Jeff to prevent what could have been a disaster (Reason one why I am not convinced on the above ruling). Amazingly, Jeff was able to catch his group and still beat two of the guys in it. I am quite certain that had Jeff not crashed, he would have pummelled the lot for the win. The only pro in the field won the race and the subsequent large check while Jeff ended 4th. Rob and Ryan rounded out the placings for cash and that was that.

Overall I think the team is coming together nicely. We have a good balance between young (John, Brett and Andy), mid (Josh, Rob, Ryan and Jeff) and old (me). Thanks goes especially to Julie Carter who fed the whole bunch of us all by herself in addition to "communicating" (read: yelling) at us over the radio. I think she likes bossing us around, but she did not have to provide such diligent feeds when we missed that second group.

Thanks for reading.

Steve

ABD Shines at the Batavia Triathlon & Duathlon

ABD Multisport shined in Batavia despite overcast skies, oppressive
humidity, wind, and wet roads.
*
Kim Malmquist* was the first female duathlete across the line,
triathlete *Rob Fortelka* flew on the bike at 23 mph, the second fastest
ride of the day, and triathlete *Gretchen DeMong* smoked the run at a
blistering pace of 6:22 per mile!

ABD put 3 in the top 12 overall in the Duathlon with Kim in 8th, *Scott
Pahl* in 10th, and *Keith Borkowicz* in 12th. Rob, Keith and *Cathy
Webb* all snagged 4th in very competitive age groups, Gretchen finished
2nd in her class, and Scott grabbed 1st in the over-50 field.

Congratulations to all!

Prinner Report: Joe Martin Stage Race

Hi y'all,

Yeah, I know the Joe Martin was, like, so four weeks ago, but due to
excessive homework and bicycle riding I was unable to write it
earlier. I definitely feel, though, that I absolutely must write this
report because I need to pay Sue S. some tribute for driving me down.
By the way, Sue is not a Susan, she is a Suzanna.

After 10ish hours of driving on the interstate, Sue and I were tired
and hungry as we finally arrived at our destination. If the drive had
been only an hour or so longer, I probably would have had to resort to
killing and eating my travel companion, but luckily we pulled into
Fayetteville, Arkansas just in time. Knowing that the combination of
road race and time trial would be hard the next day, we decided to eat
at a cozy little hole in the wall Italian restaurant. We plunged into
our food like rabid hungry wolves and not 30 minutes later, we were
practically passed out on the table in our empty dishes.

The next day we made sure to show up bright and early to the first
event of the weekend; the road race. The start and finish of this 34-
mile road race were 11 miles apart, so Sue and I blithely decided to
park at the start line and just ride the 11 miles back after we
finished. After completing a good warm-up, I sat down in some weeds to
stretch and not 2 minutes later I looked down only to find a giant red
tick marching up my arm. I screamed, swatted the tick away, and bolted
out of the grass. God, I never knew pavement could be so comforting.

As the road race started off, I felt antsy and ready to charge up the
first hill I could find. As soon as the grade rose, I was at the front
pushing the pace, and doing a great job of burning myself out. I only
expected for there to be one or two hills to start, but the hills kept
coming and the grade got steeper and steeper and I eventually
regretted going so soon because my legs were starting to die. Then,
just as I had feared, an attack struck and shattered the field
instantly. I was left struggling to chase the front group that quickly
pulled away, but I soon realized my effort was meaningless, and waited
up to jump in the second chase group of 7 or so riders. We pacelined
for most of the race until the main field caught us at the end, but
lucky for me another lady attacked and we formed a smaller group of
five and managed to stay away to the finish, where I placed 13th. The
front breakaway had obtained over 5 minutes on us, and I knew by then
that my conquest for victory would be fruitless. Then again, the
possibility of pulling a "Landis" was always a chance as well, and
then I could be cycing's newest scandal.

After the race, Sue and I, both delirious, began our long ride back to
the car. As soon as we hit the first hill Sue and I decided that since
our coach wasn't there we would get off and just walk the hill. And,
as if that didn't make us look unprofessional enough, at that very
moment it started to rain. I guess one lady in her car took one look
at us and felt sorry for the poor buffoons walking up the hill in the
rain and decided to stop and give one of us a ride. Her car was jammed
with bikes and people, so she agreed to drive Sue back the 11 miles to
her car while I stood there and held the bikes waiting. Well, at least
she gave me her rain jacket, which happened to be bright red; very
unnoticeable. So they drove away and I walked on until I found a mail
box to prop the bikes up against, and then, looking for a place to sit
away from the road and the grass, I finally resorted to sitting on the
mail box to avoid the ticks, which I'm sure were eyeing me in my
bright red raincoat . And so I sat there, not for the first time in my
life, on a mail box in lycra and a bright red raincoat in a
thunderstorm looking very much like a scrappy teenager. Yes, folks, I
said thunderstorm, because not long after planting my behind on that
mailbox a bright golden flash crashed across the sky and happened to
catch my attention. Just when I was pondering whether it was such a
good idea to be sitting on a mailbox as it was lightening, a small,
sporty red car pulled up and a nice looking lady asked if I wanted to
sit in her car until Sue returned. Normally, I might be a tad bit
cautious of this situation, but considering the circumstances at the
moment I figured, "Well, at least she didn't offer me candy" and
hopped into her small, sporty red car. As thunder crashed outside, I
found out that this lady was quite old and was the wife of one of the
race organizers, so I figured she must be going through a mid-life
crisis with her small, sporty red car. A few minutes later Sue ar
rived and I thankfully waved that small, sporty red car away and
proceeded to chuck our bicycles haphazardly into the Jeep as it
monsooned on us. And just as I hopped into the passenger seat of the
car it started to hail, and I'm not talkin' about little ice chips of
hail, I'm talkin' about marble sized chunks of hail. "Was the perfect
timing pure luck?", you ask. Naw, we're just that good. And we happily
floated our jeep back to the hotel on a river that was once a road
only to find that there was a severe tornado warning in effect.

Now cycling is quite a unique sport in that it will continue in pretty
much all conditions. Despite the fact that there had been a severe
tornado warning just and hour or two ago, the time trial still went on
as schedule just a few hours after the road race had ended. The entire
geography of the course was really quite interesting; the whole TT was
2.5 mile uphill climb out of a valley with an average grade of 6.8%
and steep switchbacks with a plunging drop on one side. And the name
of the park it was in was just as fitting: Devil's Den State Park. And
the ironic part of it all was that I used to go climbing in Devil's
Den when we vacationed to Arkansas many years ago. Little did I know
of how I would painfully suffer my way up that same climb years later.

So after changing in the woods (yeah, that was pretty cool) I hopped
on my bike and began my long spin to warm up my sore legs. Then I
trekked up to the start line just in time to be let off and begin my
long, tedious climb up to Devil's Den. During the whole ordeal I
passed two riders and ended up in 4th place.

The next day Sue and I were forced to wake up early to make it to the
final stage of the day: the criterium. The course proved to be very
tricky, with two quick downhill turns and a super steep uphill finish,
not to mention that it was absolutely freezing out and I was wearing
just about every article of clothing I owned at the start line. Of
course, from the gun there was an attack that split the field almost
instantly and I managed to cling on for dear life long enough to catch
my breath as soon as they slowed down. I guess due to the fact that it
was a women's race, it was only 25 minutes long because USCF officials
apparently think that we'll all fall over dead or something if we have
to ride farther than 12 miles. It was for this reason that the main
field remained at about 20-30 riders for the finishing sprint. I
finally felt blessed that it was an uphill finish, because that's just
about all I can do in my junior gears, so I happily managed to take
3rd and grab a time bonus to slide into 10th place overall.

And with all that being done and accomplished Sue and I, both tired
and gleeful, sailed our way home to Illinois. Sure, I know my weekend
in Arkansas wasn't anything like stage racing in Tokyo or France, but
it sure was a heck of a lot of fun, and besides, I gotta start
somewhere, don't I?

-Jessi Prinner

Prinner Report: Joe Martin Stage Race

Hi y'all,

Yeah, I know the Joe Martin was, like, so four weeks ago, but due to
excessive homework and bicycle riding I was unable to write it
earlier. I definitely feel, though, that I absolutely must write this
report because I need to pay Sue S. some tribute for driving me down.
By the way, Sue is not a Susan, she is a Suzanna.

After 10ish hours of driving on the interstate, Sue and I were tired
and hungry as we finally arrived at our destination. If the drive had
been only an hour or so longer, I probably would have had to resort to
killing and eating my travel companion, but luckily we pulled into
Fayetteville, Arkansas just in time. Knowing that the combination of
road race and time trial would be hard the next day, we decided to eat
at a cozy little hole in the wall Italian restaurant. We plunged into
our food like rabid hungry wolves and not 30 minutes later, we were
practically passed out on the table in our empty dishes.

The next day we made sure to show up bright and early to the first
event of the weekend; the road race. The start and finish of this 34-
mile road race were 11 miles apart, so Sue and I blithely decided to
park at the start line and just ride the 11 miles back after we
finished. After completing a good warm-up, I sat down in some weeds to
stretch and not 2 minutes later I looked down only to find a giant red
tick marching up my arm. I screamed, swatted the tick away, and bolted
out of the grass. God, I never knew pavement could be so comforting.

As the road race started off, I felt antsy and ready to charge up the
first hill I could find. As soon as the grade rose, I was at the front
pushing the pace, and doing a great job of burning myself out. I only
expected for there to be one or two hills to start, but the hills kept
coming and the grade got steeper and steeper and I eventually
regretted going so soon because my legs were starting to die. Then,
just as I had feared, an attack struck and shattered the field
instantly. I was left struggling to chase the front group that quickly
pulled away, but I soon realized my effort was meaningless, and waited
up to jump in the second chase group of 7 or so riders. We pacelined
for most of the race until the main field caught us at the end, but
lucky for me another lady attacked and we formed a smaller group of
five and managed to stay away to the finish, where I placed 13th. The
front breakaway had obtained over 5 minutes on us, and I knew by then
that my conquest for victory would be fruitless. Then again, the
possibility of pulling a "Landis" was always a chance as well, and
then I could be cycing's newest scandal.

After the race, Sue and I, both delirious, began our long ride back to
the car. As soon as we hit the first hill Sue and I decided that since
our coach wasn't there we would get off and just walk the hill. And,
as if that didn't make us look unprofessional enough, at that very
moment it started to rain. I guess one lady in her car took one look
at us and felt sorry for the poor buffoons walking up the hill in the
rain and decided to stop and give one of us a ride. Her car was jammed
with bikes and people, so she agreed to drive Sue back the 11 miles to
her car while I stood there and held the bikes waiting. Well, at least
she gave me her rain jacket, which happened to be bright red; very
unnoticeable. So they drove away and I walked on until I found a mail
box to prop the bikes up against, and then, looking for a place to sit
away from the road and the grass, I finally resorted to sitting on the
mail box to avoid the ticks, which I'm sure were eyeing me in my
bright red raincoat . And so I sat there, not for the first time in my
life, on a mail box in lycra and a bright red raincoat in a
thunderstorm looking very much like a scrappy teenager. Yes, folks, I
said thunderstorm, because not long after planting my behind on that
mailbox a bright golden flash crashed across the sky and happened to
catch my attention. Just when I was pondering whether it was such a
good idea to be sitting on a mailbox as it was lightening, a small,
sporty red car pulled up and a nice looking lady asked if I wanted to
sit in her car until Sue returned. Normally, I might be a tad bit
cautious of this situation, but considering the circumstances at the
moment I figured, "Well, at least she didn't offer me candy" and
hopped into her small, sporty red car. As thunder crashed outside, I
found out that this lady was quite old and was the wife of one of the
race organizers, so I figured she must be going through a mid-life
crisis with her small, sporty red car. A few minutes later Sue ar
rived and I thankfully waved that small, sporty red car away and
proceeded to chuck our bicycles haphazardly into the Jeep as it
monsooned on us. And just as I hopped into the passenger seat of the
car it started to hail, and I'm not talkin' about little ice chips of
hail, I'm talkin' about marble sized chunks of hail. "Was the perfect
timing pure luck?", you ask. Naw, we're just that good. And we happily
floated our jeep back to the hotel on a river that was once a road
only to find that there was a severe tornado warning in effect.

Now cycling is quite a unique sport in that it will continue in pretty
much all conditions. Despite the fact that there had been a severe
tornado warning just and hour or two ago, the time trial still went on
as schedule just a few hours after the road race had ended. The entire
geography of the course was really quite interesting; the whole TT was
2.5 mile uphill climb out of a valley with an average grade of 6.8%
and steep switchbacks with a plunging drop on one side. And the name
of the park it was in was just as fitting: Devil's Den State Park. And
the ironic part of it all was that I used to go climbing in Devil's
Den when we vacationed to Arkansas many years ago. Little did I know
of how I would painfully suffer my way up that same climb years later.

So after changing in the woods (yeah, that was pretty cool) I hopped
on my bike and began my long spin to warm up my sore legs. Then I
trekked up to the start line just in time to be let off and begin my
long, tedious climb up to Devil's Den. During the whole ordeal I
passed two riders and ended up in 4th place.

The next day Sue and I were forced to wake up early to make it to the
final stage of the day: the criterium. The course proved to be very
tricky, with two quick downhill turns and a super steep uphill finish,
not to mention that it was absolutely freezing out and I was wearing
just about every article of clothing I owned at the start line. Of
course, from the gun there was an attack that split the field almost
instantly and I managed to cling on for dear life long enough to catch
my breath as soon as they slowed down. I guess due to the fact that it
was a women's race, it was only 25 minutes long because USCF officials
apparently think that we'll all fall over dead or something if we have
to ride farther than 12 miles. It was for this reason that the main
field remained at about 20-30 riders for the finishing sprint. I
finally felt blessed that it was an uphill finish, because that's just
about all I can do in my junior gears, so I happily managed to take
3rd and grab a time bonus to slide into 10th place overall.

And with all that being done and accomplished Sue and I, both tired
and gleeful, sailed our way home to Illinois. Sure, I know my weekend
in Arkansas wasn't anything like stage racing in Tokyo or France, but
it sure was a heck of a lot of fun, and besides, I gotta start
somewhere, don't I?

-Jessi Prinner