It seems as though with every passing weekend I get a little darker. Soon I will walk into Prairie Path Cycles exclaiming happily (as I usually do), "Hi all!" and someone will be like, "Who’s that African American girl?"
But I digress. This past Saturday’s crit in Brown Deer Park proved to be the most aggressive race of the year yet. In fact the women were so aggressive that at first thought I was mistaken and had jumped into the pro men’s race. As I pulled up to the line I noticed that there were about 20 women altogether on the line, three of which were IS Corp ladies, seven (yes that’s not a typo) Kenda tire ladies and…let’s see…one…two ABD ladies (Susan and I).
This lonely dynamic ABD duo had come to this race with the full intention of being as aggressive as a hornet whose queen had just been threatened, and hoping to play our tactic cards right and get one of us in a break. But if any of you know a thing or two about cycling, you’ll also probably know that there isn’t much (tactic-wise) you can do in a race with only one other team mate except ride like a dog with rabies and hope your team mate will either slow down the field if you get in a break or counter attack after the field has caught you. This was precisely our game plan, but unfortunately it also seemed to be everyone else’s game plan as well because in all there was an average of about 2-3 attacks each lap. Susan and I had even come up with a secret code to signal when we were going to attack next: we would scratch our butts (preferably the right cheek). This didn’t seem to work well though when we weren’t directly behind each other due to the many butts in between us and d ue to the split second decisions that needed to be made if we were going to counter a move, so there wasn’t enough time for butt-scratching.
As the race came down to the end, none of the 50,000 breakaways had succeeded, so the eyes of the pack were peeled wide open for the crazy person who might decide to attack on the last lap. At about a half a lap to go the attack came, and it came strong because the field was strung out in an instant, with me about 6 or 7 riders back. We made the last turn (which was a tricky acute turn which forced us to slow down a lot) and the first three riders, which were (surprise, surprise!) Kenda Tire ladies, attacked really hard and shot away from the field, while Jessi "The Dumbo" Prinner was stuck chasing hard in the red zone, panicking with 1000 meters to go and the pack leering behind her. Even though I was far into my lactic threshold, VO2 threshold (and "everything else" threshold), I decided there was no stopping now, so I suffered my way to the finish line completely depleted and ready to pass out, yet miraculously grabbing 6th place. I think God just felt sorry for me . Oh well, I was still really happy with my first USCF race of the year.
I also must congratulate Susan who made up just about half the attacks in the race (and was super close to getting one to succeed) and made a strong pack finish in the end, and to Joel (Susan’s boyfriend) who probably would have won his race if it weren’t for the bone head who made him crash in the last turn.
And next week I look forward to Iowa city RR and crit…and I hope more than two ABDers show up as well so I can congratulate them…
-Jessi
4/26/2007
4/17/2007
Fred Yoder: John Fraser TT Report
John Fraser Memorial TT
Opening Rationalization
Just because we are intelligent and have years of experience doesn’t mean we always make the best decisions. Or perhaps after 60+ years of hyperactive brain activity, some of the neurotransmitters implode trying to cross the synaptic cleft? (http://www.ifisiol.unam.mx/Brain/synap.htm).
Day before the race
Twenty mph winds from SW are predicted for Maple Park on Sunday. To gain some advantage against the headwind in tomorrow’s race, I am going to take a calculated risk and mount the aero bars that have been hibernating in the closet for the past year. Not wanting to damage the upgraded carbon handlebars on my “good” ($800) racing bike, I mount the aero bars on my old Tirreno commuter bike. The SunTour barcon shift cable for the rear derailleur was never wrapped under the handlebar tape so it could be “easily” moved to the end of the aero bar some day. An hour or two later the aero bars are mounted and ready for a trial run on the indoor trainer. After working up a sweat reclining on the new bars, I decide to make a couple minor adjustments. I raise the seat post 1mm, move the seat forward 1cm and drop the saddle nose a scosh. Another 10 minutes on the trainer and I declare the setup “good to go”. Later, I clean and lube the chain and remove the oily limestone dust from the gears and pulleys. Then the light brackets are removed and Polar mounting bracket is attached cross-wise on the stem. I also remove the front down tube bottle cage to improve aerodynamics, but leave the seat tube bottle (having read somewhere that will actually improve aerodynamics). Swap wheels between bikes to replace the heavy wire bead commuter tires with my well worn 120 psi Contie Attack/Force tires and organize my gear to pack in the truck tomorrow morning.
What are you thinking:
This guy is asking for trouble. Everyone knows you don’t make modifications to your bike the day before the race or make position adjustment without significant road time to verify the changes are positive. Not a problem. This bike is ridden more than my race bike. This race isn’t the Prologue to le Tour. Fallback plan if aero bars don’t work is to go back to the drops. The physical change risk is minimal, and the mental advantage of driving my fists into the face of the diabolical headwinds is priceless.
Registration and Warm-up
Find plenty of parking south of the tracks and check in for my pre-registered starting position #12 at 10:06:00. It is now 9:00 and there is plenty of time for a nice slow warm up on the trainer (old folks need extra time to get limbered up). Decide to leave the car near registration, since I am schedule to help with registration after completing my race. The sun feels warm on my back but the wind is cool. The tights and light long-sleeved poly tee under my jersey should be perfect for this weather. The tights and tee are snug and will probably create less drag than my hairy arms and legs. My number is pinned at the corners through the paper (not the holes) to minimize the possibility of tearing and flapping in the wind. Work up to a good sweat on the trainer and take a final swig of Gatorade (advertising plug intended). It is now 9:40 and time to roll.
To the Starting Gate
There are no restrooms open near registration, so cross the RR tracks to the porta-potties by the park. Out on County Line road I am finally able to get the feel of using the aero bars on the open road. The gusty quartering tailwind makes it difficult to hold a straight line and after turning into the wind it seems worse. Checking my speed on the sideways Polar, I notice my speed is zero and realize the wheel magnet for the sensor needs to be adjusted. Since my heart rate sensor belt disappeared during a “senior moment” somewhere between Tracy, California and Winfield, I panic at the thought of not having HR or speed to monitor my pace. The time is now 9:50, so there is plenty of time to return to the truck, grab a dime from my jeans pocket and adjust the magnet. As the magnet slides down the spoke 5mm into alignment with the sensor, I hear a train whistle and my heart leaps into my throat. The train is coming from the east, but then another whistle sounds and a second train is coming from the west. Make a couple loops around town to stay warm. Finally the trains pass and I cross the tracks and roll to the start where #14 is waiting. “What do I do? I am #12.” and the official says “Just Go”.
Off to the Races
I stand on the pedals and quickly try to decide if I should continue or go back to registration and try to get another starting time. Since I’m scheduled to work registration and there is rain forecast for later, I keep going. First left turn is restricted to single lane, so slow down to make sure I don’t wipe the asphalt on the first corner of the first race of the season. The tailwind boosts my spirits and my speed reads 25 as I make the bend toward the East. Stay on the bars on the flats and downhills and sit up for the rollers to get more air to cool my burning lungs. Everything feels good and I try to hold perceived effort to about 95%, knowing it will need the extra 5% on the return. The straight-block freewheel and the barcon shifter allow me to easily change gears to keep a constant power output through the hills and wind shifts. Approaching the turn around, I bleed the speed more than necessary - better to lose a few seconds than wipe out. Out of the saddle into the wind, but quickly get down on the aero bars and focus on form. Keep the back straight and chin up. I’m encouraged to see the speed is holding at 18 although the wind is slightly more from the side than head on. The wind gusts are making it impossible to track a straight line, but never feel out of control. Turning into the South leg I get the full impact of the headwind. Into the shallow climb my speed drops below 16 for the first time since the turn-around.
Finish Strong
I push to regain my momentum, but nothing happens – the iron in my blood has turned to lead in my legs. Just gear down to maintain cadence and then see another rider ahead. The chase opportunity seems to automatically boost my speed and I pass the rider before turning west toward the finish line. On the slight downhill the speed hits 21 and I cross the anaerobic threshold (or whatever it is called these days) and consciously start blowing with each breath to make sure maximum air volume is brought into lungs. Yell “Number twelve” as I cross the finish and drop back to a very slow recovery pace. Rolling north on County Line the feeling is returning to my legs, and as I turn around to return to registration, I hear a train whistle……. Finish time 30:54.37 – good enough to move from 4th to 2nd in the men’s 60+ series standings.
Closing Rationalization
Not that we old timers are the only ones that have brain cramps (http://braincramp.comicgen.com). Some young man came to the registration table to ask if anyone had cleats he could borrow for the race. New items for Race Day Checklist:
Cleats attached to shoes
Cyclometer operational
Don’t allow railroad tracks come between you and the race.
Fred Yoder
Opening Rationalization
Just because we are intelligent and have years of experience doesn’t mean we always make the best decisions. Or perhaps after 60+ years of hyperactive brain activity, some of the neurotransmitters implode trying to cross the synaptic cleft? (http://www.ifisiol.unam.mx/Brain/synap.htm).
Day before the race
Twenty mph winds from SW are predicted for Maple Park on Sunday. To gain some advantage against the headwind in tomorrow’s race, I am going to take a calculated risk and mount the aero bars that have been hibernating in the closet for the past year. Not wanting to damage the upgraded carbon handlebars on my “good” ($800) racing bike, I mount the aero bars on my old Tirreno commuter bike. The SunTour barcon shift cable for the rear derailleur was never wrapped under the handlebar tape so it could be “easily” moved to the end of the aero bar some day. An hour or two later the aero bars are mounted and ready for a trial run on the indoor trainer. After working up a sweat reclining on the new bars, I decide to make a couple minor adjustments. I raise the seat post 1mm, move the seat forward 1cm and drop the saddle nose a scosh. Another 10 minutes on the trainer and I declare the setup “good to go”. Later, I clean and lube the chain and remove the oily limestone dust from the gears and pulleys. Then the light brackets are removed and Polar mounting bracket is attached cross-wise on the stem. I also remove the front down tube bottle cage to improve aerodynamics, but leave the seat tube bottle (having read somewhere that will actually improve aerodynamics). Swap wheels between bikes to replace the heavy wire bead commuter tires with my well worn 120 psi Contie Attack/Force tires and organize my gear to pack in the truck tomorrow morning.
What are you thinking:
This guy is asking for trouble. Everyone knows you don’t make modifications to your bike the day before the race or make position adjustment without significant road time to verify the changes are positive. Not a problem. This bike is ridden more than my race bike. This race isn’t the Prologue to le Tour. Fallback plan if aero bars don’t work is to go back to the drops. The physical change risk is minimal, and the mental advantage of driving my fists into the face of the diabolical headwinds is priceless.
Registration and Warm-up
Find plenty of parking south of the tracks and check in for my pre-registered starting position #12 at 10:06:00. It is now 9:00 and there is plenty of time for a nice slow warm up on the trainer (old folks need extra time to get limbered up). Decide to leave the car near registration, since I am schedule to help with registration after completing my race. The sun feels warm on my back but the wind is cool. The tights and light long-sleeved poly tee under my jersey should be perfect for this weather. The tights and tee are snug and will probably create less drag than my hairy arms and legs. My number is pinned at the corners through the paper (not the holes) to minimize the possibility of tearing and flapping in the wind. Work up to a good sweat on the trainer and take a final swig of Gatorade (advertising plug intended). It is now 9:40 and time to roll.
To the Starting Gate
There are no restrooms open near registration, so cross the RR tracks to the porta-potties by the park. Out on County Line road I am finally able to get the feel of using the aero bars on the open road. The gusty quartering tailwind makes it difficult to hold a straight line and after turning into the wind it seems worse. Checking my speed on the sideways Polar, I notice my speed is zero and realize the wheel magnet for the sensor needs to be adjusted. Since my heart rate sensor belt disappeared during a “senior moment” somewhere between Tracy, California and Winfield, I panic at the thought of not having HR or speed to monitor my pace. The time is now 9:50, so there is plenty of time to return to the truck, grab a dime from my jeans pocket and adjust the magnet. As the magnet slides down the spoke 5mm into alignment with the sensor, I hear a train whistle and my heart leaps into my throat. The train is coming from the east, but then another whistle sounds and a second train is coming from the west. Make a couple loops around town to stay warm. Finally the trains pass and I cross the tracks and roll to the start where #14 is waiting. “What do I do? I am #12.” and the official says “Just Go”.
Off to the Races
I stand on the pedals and quickly try to decide if I should continue or go back to registration and try to get another starting time. Since I’m scheduled to work registration and there is rain forecast for later, I keep going. First left turn is restricted to single lane, so slow down to make sure I don’t wipe the asphalt on the first corner of the first race of the season. The tailwind boosts my spirits and my speed reads 25 as I make the bend toward the East. Stay on the bars on the flats and downhills and sit up for the rollers to get more air to cool my burning lungs. Everything feels good and I try to hold perceived effort to about 95%, knowing it will need the extra 5% on the return. The straight-block freewheel and the barcon shifter allow me to easily change gears to keep a constant power output through the hills and wind shifts. Approaching the turn around, I bleed the speed more than necessary - better to lose a few seconds than wipe out. Out of the saddle into the wind, but quickly get down on the aero bars and focus on form. Keep the back straight and chin up. I’m encouraged to see the speed is holding at 18 although the wind is slightly more from the side than head on. The wind gusts are making it impossible to track a straight line, but never feel out of control. Turning into the South leg I get the full impact of the headwind. Into the shallow climb my speed drops below 16 for the first time since the turn-around.
Finish Strong
I push to regain my momentum, but nothing happens – the iron in my blood has turned to lead in my legs. Just gear down to maintain cadence and then see another rider ahead. The chase opportunity seems to automatically boost my speed and I pass the rider before turning west toward the finish line. On the slight downhill the speed hits 21 and I cross the anaerobic threshold (or whatever it is called these days) and consciously start blowing with each breath to make sure maximum air volume is brought into lungs. Yell “Number twelve” as I cross the finish and drop back to a very slow recovery pace. Rolling north on County Line the feeling is returning to my legs, and as I turn around to return to registration, I hear a train whistle……. Finish time 30:54.37 – good enough to move from 4th to 2nd in the men’s 60+ series standings.
Closing Rationalization
Not that we old timers are the only ones that have brain cramps (http://braincramp.comicgen.com). Some young man came to the registration table to ask if anyone had cleats he could borrow for the race. New items for Race Day Checklist:
Cleats attached to shoes
Cyclometer operational
Don’t allow railroad tracks come between you and the race.
Fred Yoder
3/26/2007
Crashzalot's Report on Everything & Everyone at Parkside!!!
Since spring break was this week and I could sleep in to my heart's
desire, I made the resolution to ride my brains out and leave
everything on the roads of Parkside this last Sunday.
Even though the variables of the Women's open race were very
different from those of last week, the outcome was very much the
same. The field grew both in numbers and in strength, and I couldn't
use any masters this time, so achieving my plan of a breakaway would
take a lot more thought and concentration. Oh, yeah, and did I
mention that it was about 281 degrees warmer than last week? Yes, it
would certainly be hard getting used to the feeling of -20 pounds
worth of layers, in fact, I think I was levitating for a good portion
of the race
Several attacks issued right from the gun, but none
prevailed. Compared to last week, this was an attack-a-thon, leaving
everyone with their eyes peeled at all times like a freshly-peeled,
juicy Florida grapefruit. Despite the fact that everyone wanted
their slice of the attack pie, I only focused on the few women I knew
had a chance of staying away. For the first half of the race I sat
near the front, pouncing only on the stronger attackers' wheels,
leaving the rest to eventually be swallowed whole by the pack much
like how a python swallows a tiny, helpless mouse without a second
thought. Only in the latter part of the race did I spend any energy
on attacking, but each time I would glace behind me only to see the
entire pack hungrily sapping at my wheel.
Then, believe it or not, the Masterly Men actually passed us,
making us look like a bunch of little pansies going out for a nice
morning ride. Then, a woman with many brain cells in her head went
for the attack, flying past the Masterly Men at the most opportune
time before they swarmed the road, blocking the women off from the
break. As the pack struggled to find a way around the Masterly Men,
I pushed it into full throttle and slipped through a gap in theirfield and chased in pursuit of the XXX lady who had gotten away.
Catching her, we worked together until she, too, disappeared from my
wheel and I ended up finishing to a solo first place just like last
week.
Four hours later I found myself again racing with the cat. 3
men, who, thankfully, didn't seem to panic at the sight of me (I must
have left a good impression last week). This race occurred quite the
same as the former cat. 3 race except for four small differences: 1)
The race was blistering fast (and hot), which shed men like a python
(mentioned earlier) sheds it's skin, 2) I found myself to be far more
comfortable this time, even daring to move up several times and
actually look fast, 3) I didn't lose a contact, and 4) I got the
chance to practice avoiding a close crash at 3 laps to go, but
unfortunately lost the pack, and was forced to drill it to the finish
in 39th place, beating 10 guys. I came, I saw, I kicked cat. 3
arse. Mission accomplished.
Congrats also to: Sue Semaszczuk with a 5th in the women's 4
and Gina Kenny who made a pack finish in the same category, Bill
Kallas and Jan Wierzbicki who annihilated the men's 60+ with a 3rd
and 5th, Pat Murphy who swept his field for 1st. Some strong pack
finishes were Steve Middaugh in the 40+, Don Jones, Pat Murphy, and
Ken Fry in the 50+, Scott and Alex Boden, Paul Zelewski, and Ben
Demong braving the cat 4s, and also congrats to Ryan Cooper who
crushed the 4s with 4th and Sam Brower who placed well with 16th in
the cat. 3s. Last, but not least, the cat. 1/2s did their usual
awesome job as Ebert took 2rd, Rob Jungles took 7th and Alex Sharren
worked his bum off to help his teammates but ended with a strong pack
finish.
I feel like I'm taking Ebert's job…
-Crashzalot
desire, I made the resolution to ride my brains out and leave
everything on the roads of Parkside this last Sunday.
Even though the variables of the Women's open race were very
different from those of last week, the outcome was very much the
same. The field grew both in numbers and in strength, and I couldn't
use any masters this time, so achieving my plan of a breakaway would
take a lot more thought and concentration. Oh, yeah, and did I
mention that it was about 281 degrees warmer than last week? Yes, it
would certainly be hard getting used to the feeling of -20 pounds
worth of layers, in fact, I think I was levitating for a good portion
of the race
Several attacks issued right from the gun, but none
prevailed. Compared to last week, this was an attack-a-thon, leaving
everyone with their eyes peeled at all times like a freshly-peeled,
juicy Florida grapefruit. Despite the fact that everyone wanted
their slice of the attack pie, I only focused on the few women I knew
had a chance of staying away. For the first half of the race I sat
near the front, pouncing only on the stronger attackers' wheels,
leaving the rest to eventually be swallowed whole by the pack much
like how a python swallows a tiny, helpless mouse without a second
thought. Only in the latter part of the race did I spend any energy
on attacking, but each time I would glace behind me only to see the
entire pack hungrily sapping at my wheel.
Then, believe it or not, the Masterly Men actually passed us,
making us look like a bunch of little pansies going out for a nice
morning ride. Then, a woman with many brain cells in her head went
for the attack, flying past the Masterly Men at the most opportune
time before they swarmed the road, blocking the women off from the
break. As the pack struggled to find a way around the Masterly Men,
I pushed it into full throttle and slipped through a gap in theirfield and chased in pursuit of the XXX lady who had gotten away.
Catching her, we worked together until she, too, disappeared from my
wheel and I ended up finishing to a solo first place just like last
week.
Four hours later I found myself again racing with the cat. 3
men, who, thankfully, didn't seem to panic at the sight of me (I must
have left a good impression last week). This race occurred quite the
same as the former cat. 3 race except for four small differences: 1)
The race was blistering fast (and hot), which shed men like a python
(mentioned earlier) sheds it's skin, 2) I found myself to be far more
comfortable this time, even daring to move up several times and
actually look fast, 3) I didn't lose a contact, and 4) I got the
chance to practice avoiding a close crash at 3 laps to go, but
unfortunately lost the pack, and was forced to drill it to the finish
in 39th place, beating 10 guys. I came, I saw, I kicked cat. 3
arse. Mission accomplished.
Congrats also to: Sue Semaszczuk with a 5th in the women's 4
and Gina Kenny who made a pack finish in the same category, Bill
Kallas and Jan Wierzbicki who annihilated the men's 60+ with a 3rd
and 5th, Pat Murphy who swept his field for 1st. Some strong pack
finishes were Steve Middaugh in the 40+, Don Jones, Pat Murphy, and
Ken Fry in the 50+, Scott and Alex Boden, Paul Zelewski, and Ben
Demong braving the cat 4s, and also congrats to Ryan Cooper who
crushed the 4s with 4th and Sam Brower who placed well with 16th in
the cat. 3s. Last, but not least, the cat. 1/2s did their usual
awesome job as Ebert took 2rd, Rob Jungles took 7th and Alex Sharren
worked his bum off to help his teammates but ended with a strong pack
finish.
I feel like I'm taking Ebert's job…
-Crashzalot
No Racing in March=Racing Parkside #3 March 25th
There are many things that can cause us to come into the racing season lacking the proper amount of training. Some of these include;
1. Extremely cold temperatures that make you wonder daily if you will have an extremities left on your body come summer racing.
2. Spending too much time at work, working a job that exhausts you before you can ever work out.
3. As well as various other things as well...but I'm sure you all want to hear about the racing.
So after vowing to myself to not race the early season prep races of March so I could put on more base miles, I found myself getting a day off of work so that I could make the 3.5 hour trek to Parkside for a little competition.
I really was not expecting good weather (never at parkside), or good results considering my lack of riding. However, this week saw temperatures reaching 76 degrees and I found myself heating up very quickly. By 1/2 way thru the race I was feeling very warm & flushed but I rode on!
The race itself was a decent speed, although not superfast (it is march), but also not slow (maybe the good weather?). I found myself feeling surprisingly good as kept myself right near the front of the pack for the majority of the race watching what was going on but hiding from the wind.
In the finish the pack did split, most likely due to differences in fitness among all of the different riders. A group of 6 pulled off the front in the last 2 laps to contest the win while the pack strung out and began to splinter like crazy! The next and only main group to come across the line was only 10 riders going for spots 7-16. I crossed the line to find that I was the final rider to latch onto the back of the group for 16th place. After that group of 10 it was completely split up. I'm not really sure how many raced or finished, but I was reasonable happy with my result...I felt great until I hit the last corner & realize I had no kick at all. But since I wasn't going to race all month, and the goal was to finish with the pack I accomplished what I wanted!
So the lesson learned?
1. If you are not going to be putting on a lot of miles in the winter.....8.5 minute crazed rides on a fixed gear, trying not to be late to work and almost puking when you get there as you struggle to breath & live......well these help your fitness out
2. Even if you dont have enough base & say your not going to race for an extra month....well sometimes a little competition is good for you.
Until next time,
Sam
1. Extremely cold temperatures that make you wonder daily if you will have an extremities left on your body come summer racing.
2. Spending too much time at work, working a job that exhausts you before you can ever work out.
3. As well as various other things as well...but I'm sure you all want to hear about the racing.
So after vowing to myself to not race the early season prep races of March so I could put on more base miles, I found myself getting a day off of work so that I could make the 3.5 hour trek to Parkside for a little competition.
I really was not expecting good weather (never at parkside), or good results considering my lack of riding. However, this week saw temperatures reaching 76 degrees and I found myself heating up very quickly. By 1/2 way thru the race I was feeling very warm & flushed but I rode on!
The race itself was a decent speed, although not superfast (it is march), but also not slow (maybe the good weather?). I found myself feeling surprisingly good as kept myself right near the front of the pack for the majority of the race watching what was going on but hiding from the wind.
In the finish the pack did split, most likely due to differences in fitness among all of the different riders. A group of 6 pulled off the front in the last 2 laps to contest the win while the pack strung out and began to splinter like crazy! The next and only main group to come across the line was only 10 riders going for spots 7-16. I crossed the line to find that I was the final rider to latch onto the back of the group for 16th place. After that group of 10 it was completely split up. I'm not really sure how many raced or finished, but I was reasonable happy with my result...I felt great until I hit the last corner & realize I had no kick at all. But since I wasn't going to race all month, and the goal was to finish with the pack I accomplished what I wanted!
So the lesson learned?
1. If you are not going to be putting on a lot of miles in the winter.....8.5 minute crazed rides on a fixed gear, trying not to be late to work and almost puking when you get there as you struggle to breath & live......well these help your fitness out
2. Even if you dont have enough base & say your not going to race for an extra month....well sometimes a little competition is good for you.
Until next time,
Sam
Cat. 4 "Demolition" at Parkside
Has any one seen those exhibitionist stock car races called the
demolition derby because I think they should rename them as the Cat 4
race (at least at Parkside). It was interesting and I like
bunny-hopping heads, as much as the next guy but yeah not so fun if
you get caught buy one, luckily I did not. Racing with ABD was a
pleasure today and applying some of the good knowledge of the Cycling
College the day previous made racing very enjoyable i.e. watching wind
to determine bike positioning. I made sure to be blocked out of the
wind as much as possible going from inside to outside of the field at
opposites side of the course. It was great hearing "Coop" going into
turn 2 on the last lap about 4 bikes from the front catching the wheel
of Ben and Alex as they came around and the ABD train was smoking.
Ben really barreled up th hill directly into the head wind through
turn 2 and partly down the hill. Ben peeled off and Alex kicked it
up flying down the hill and we went around turn 3 where I took off
from behind him, too soon, but not wanting others to come around us
because it was just off a downhill. I took off solo and was hoping I
had no one sucking my wheel. I went around turn 4 and up the hill
sprinting for the finish that seemed so far away, unfortunately I was
passed by 3 dudes and finished 4th. So it is my turn to be lead out
man to redeem myself and honor the team. I am looking forward to the
racing coming up and I know we will have a successful season.
Ryan
demolition derby because I think they should rename them as the Cat 4
race (at least at Parkside). It was interesting and I like
bunny-hopping heads, as much as the next guy but yeah not so fun if
you get caught buy one, luckily I did not. Racing with ABD was a
pleasure today and applying some of the good knowledge of the Cycling
College the day previous made racing very enjoyable i.e. watching wind
to determine bike positioning. I made sure to be blocked out of the
wind as much as possible going from inside to outside of the field at
opposites side of the course. It was great hearing "Coop" going into
turn 2 on the last lap about 4 bikes from the front catching the wheel
of Ben and Alex as they came around and the ABD train was smoking.
Ben really barreled up th hill directly into the head wind through
turn 2 and partly down the hill. Ben peeled off and Alex kicked it
up flying down the hill and we went around turn 3 where I took off
from behind him, too soon, but not wanting others to come around us
because it was just off a downhill. I took off solo and was hoping I
had no one sucking my wheel. I went around turn 4 and up the hill
sprinting for the finish that seemed so far away, unfortunately I was
passed by 3 dudes and finished 4th. So it is my turn to be lead out
man to redeem myself and honor the team. I am looking forward to the
racing coming up and I know we will have a successful season.
Ryan
3/20/2007
Crashzalot from Parkisde #2
I have just realized the one and only reason why anybody ever shows
up to race at Parkside; the ABR officials know all of us cycling die-
hards are absolutely quivering with competitiveness after a long,
docile winter in the trainer. In fact, we are quivering so much
with competitiveness, we have resorted, in a last act of
desperation, to racing in a few layers skimpy spandex in
temperatures unfit even for the Iditarod. That's why we don't bring
our dogs to pull our bikes along (due to frozen legs), because the
dogs would either 1) keel over dead on the spot, or 2) viciously
attack the ABR officials for their warm coats/shelters/coffees, and
then we would be DQ'ed on the spot.
But that's beside the point of this rider report. I am
supposed to be writing about my racing experiences in the blustery
arctic land of Parkside. Hence, "rider report". So after warming
up (ha ha, very funny) and correcting a mistake for the ABR
registration volunteers (which involved including the cat. 3 women
with the cat. 4 women) I rolled up to the start line absolutely
quivering with competitiveness. The whistle blew and off we were
into the deep tundra of Parkside. Now I must pause here for a
moment to apologize for the extreme exaggeration of Parkside's
weather. It was actually quite a lovely day for Parkside; it was
only –50 degrees out. What cold there was didn't deter me, though,
for I made sure to stay in the top five riders, poised and ready to
pounce at the first sight of opportunity. The field of roughly 15-
20 women shattered in just the first few laps of the race, leaving
masters (who also raced at the same time) and women sprinkled across
the course, much like multi-colored sprinkles that are decoratively
scattered on a delicious-looking cupcake.
For about half the race I sat in, lazily sucking wind from
the lady who was working her bum off for most of the race. Then,
just when I was sure I couldn't contain my quiveryness anymore, a
master attacked and I jumped with him, and sat on his wheel for
several hundred feet before coming around and offering help to work
together. He didn't say anything, but obviously refused to draft me
as he persistently kept coming around me again and again. Then,
just as I was about convinced that this guy was a total doochbag,
Bob Lundburg loudly informed me that women weren't supposed to draft
masters. And just when I thought I had made practically made all
the mistakes I could possibly make, I was shown that there are
plenty more mistakes I still have to make before I can actually seem
like I know what I'm doing. So I continued my solo escapade to a
sure first place out of sight of the pack.
Several hours after my women's race I rolled up to the line
yet again, this time amidst riders with super expensive looking
bikes and even nicer looking calves. Yes, folks, I was racing with
the cat. 3 men…and yes, folks, I know that I'm crazy, you don't have
to remind me.
I hung at the back of the group of 30 or so riders because I
didn't want to get in anyone's way or end up sending someone over a
curb or something. Let's put it this way, I wanted to leave with a
good impression on the cat. 3s and not jump in the 3s later in the
year with the reputation of a psycho women bent on seeing how many
3s she can flip in the course of one race. About half the race went
smoothly with me on the inside at the back, somewhat easily cruising
along practically waving to all the people at start finish as I flew
by. That is of course until my contact came out and quickly turned
my joy ride into a freakish experience. I guess if anyone asked me
I could say it got a little blurry at that point. It was that
hellish contact that caused me to slam on my brakes, leap off my
bike, have my mom attempt to stick it back in after dousing it with
sports drink and having it fall on the ground several times, sail
into the restroom, and charge back into the race with only having
lost two laps in the mean time. It was then I finished the race
having the bragging rights that I "placed with the cat. 3s", but
have still yet to find out whether they actually included my name in
the results (I'll take last, thank you very much).
Even though there weren't very many ABDers at Parkside,
there were still some notable results: Mike Redlich (jr) finished
strong in the top rankings with the juniors, Rob Jungles (15th) and
Ron Cook (11th) also ranked well in the 30+ men's category, all
alone with no place to take except a fantastic 3rd, Ryan Cooper
really displayed ABD's colors well in the cat. 4 race, and the other
lonely women (besides me) was Gina Kenny who rode valiantly to a
women's cat. 4 pack finish.
Till next time…
-Crashzalot
up to race at Parkside; the ABR officials know all of us cycling die-
hards are absolutely quivering with competitiveness after a long,
docile winter in the trainer. In fact, we are quivering so much
with competitiveness, we have resorted, in a last act of
desperation, to racing in a few layers skimpy spandex in
temperatures unfit even for the Iditarod. That's why we don't bring
our dogs to pull our bikes along (due to frozen legs), because the
dogs would either 1) keel over dead on the spot, or 2) viciously
attack the ABR officials for their warm coats/shelters/coffees, and
then we would be DQ'ed on the spot.
But that's beside the point of this rider report. I am
supposed to be writing about my racing experiences in the blustery
arctic land of Parkside. Hence, "rider report". So after warming
up (ha ha, very funny) and correcting a mistake for the ABR
registration volunteers (which involved including the cat. 3 women
with the cat. 4 women) I rolled up to the start line absolutely
quivering with competitiveness. The whistle blew and off we were
into the deep tundra of Parkside. Now I must pause here for a
moment to apologize for the extreme exaggeration of Parkside's
weather. It was actually quite a lovely day for Parkside; it was
only –50 degrees out. What cold there was didn't deter me, though,
for I made sure to stay in the top five riders, poised and ready to
pounce at the first sight of opportunity. The field of roughly 15-
20 women shattered in just the first few laps of the race, leaving
masters (who also raced at the same time) and women sprinkled across
the course, much like multi-colored sprinkles that are decoratively
scattered on a delicious-looking cupcake.
For about half the race I sat in, lazily sucking wind from
the lady who was working her bum off for most of the race. Then,
just when I was sure I couldn't contain my quiveryness anymore, a
master attacked and I jumped with him, and sat on his wheel for
several hundred feet before coming around and offering help to work
together. He didn't say anything, but obviously refused to draft me
as he persistently kept coming around me again and again. Then,
just as I was about convinced that this guy was a total doochbag,
Bob Lundburg loudly informed me that women weren't supposed to draft
masters. And just when I thought I had made practically made all
the mistakes I could possibly make, I was shown that there are
plenty more mistakes I still have to make before I can actually seem
like I know what I'm doing. So I continued my solo escapade to a
sure first place out of sight of the pack.
Several hours after my women's race I rolled up to the line
yet again, this time amidst riders with super expensive looking
bikes and even nicer looking calves. Yes, folks, I was racing with
the cat. 3 men…and yes, folks, I know that I'm crazy, you don't have
to remind me.
I hung at the back of the group of 30 or so riders because I
didn't want to get in anyone's way or end up sending someone over a
curb or something. Let's put it this way, I wanted to leave with a
good impression on the cat. 3s and not jump in the 3s later in the
year with the reputation of a psycho women bent on seeing how many
3s she can flip in the course of one race. About half the race went
smoothly with me on the inside at the back, somewhat easily cruising
along practically waving to all the people at start finish as I flew
by. That is of course until my contact came out and quickly turned
my joy ride into a freakish experience. I guess if anyone asked me
I could say it got a little blurry at that point. It was that
hellish contact that caused me to slam on my brakes, leap off my
bike, have my mom attempt to stick it back in after dousing it with
sports drink and having it fall on the ground several times, sail
into the restroom, and charge back into the race with only having
lost two laps in the mean time. It was then I finished the race
having the bragging rights that I "placed with the cat. 3s", but
have still yet to find out whether they actually included my name in
the results (I'll take last, thank you very much).
Even though there weren't very many ABDers at Parkside,
there were still some notable results: Mike Redlich (jr) finished
strong in the top rankings with the juniors, Rob Jungles (15th) and
Ron Cook (11th) also ranked well in the 30+ men's category, all
alone with no place to take except a fantastic 3rd, Ryan Cooper
really displayed ABD's colors well in the cat. 4 race, and the other
lonely women (besides me) was Gina Kenny who rode valiantly to a
women's cat. 4 pack finish.
Till next time…
-Crashzalot
A Cat. 4 Report from Parkside
Hello,
This last weekend was a little more chilly than the first but after a good warm up of stomps, sprints and tempo the temperature didn't seem so bad. My plan for this race was to sit in and hope it comes down to a field sprint. Because I use these as training and there is no real importance to them, I go about training during the week like I should be. The day before I had a nice 75 mile aerobic ride, thus explaining why I wanted to sit in. So I did what I set out to do but I kept drifting back do accident land and I knew I had to cruise up to the front and adjust fire. Early on in the race there was an ambiguous 2 man break that the field did not bother to catch, so I attempted. Only I attempted half cocked and I pulled the field. I realized what I did and got off the front and took a small breather. As soon as I saw some one go for it I blasted up the gutter and grabbed his wheel along with a Lot guy. So the three of us were attempting to bridge. We got the gap down to 3 sec, but at this time Lot was pooped and the 2 man started to work together. At this point I was set on third place because I was not determined enough to leave my small break away group to catch the other two. We worked together towards the end never catching the 2 guys but staying ahead of the field. Going around turn 4 I sprinted out from the middle slicing up the final straight to capture 3 place. Those bumps make the road quite interesting to sprint up it seemed like half of the I was in the air. I am looking forward to this weekend to race again, but instead of a break with two guys on different teams I want it to be all ABD.
Ryan
This last weekend was a little more chilly than the first but after a good warm up of stomps, sprints and tempo the temperature didn't seem so bad. My plan for this race was to sit in and hope it comes down to a field sprint. Because I use these as training and there is no real importance to them, I go about training during the week like I should be. The day before I had a nice 75 mile aerobic ride, thus explaining why I wanted to sit in. So I did what I set out to do but I kept drifting back do accident land and I knew I had to cruise up to the front and adjust fire. Early on in the race there was an ambiguous 2 man break that the field did not bother to catch, so I attempted. Only I attempted half cocked and I pulled the field. I realized what I did and got off the front and took a small breather. As soon as I saw some one go for it I blasted up the gutter and grabbed his wheel along with a Lot guy. So the three of us were attempting to bridge. We got the gap down to 3 sec, but at this time Lot was pooped and the 2 man started to work together. At this point I was set on third place because I was not determined enough to leave my small break away group to catch the other two. We worked together towards the end never catching the 2 guys but staying ahead of the field. Going around turn 4 I sprinted out from the middle slicing up the final straight to capture 3 place. Those bumps make the road quite interesting to sprint up it seemed like half of the I was in the air. I am looking forward to this weekend to race again, but instead of a break with two guys on different teams I want it to be all ABD.
Ryan
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