No more alleycats.
It started as a crazy idea to race a crit on a single speed. But roadies are such dorks. LT, HRMs, watts, weight weenies, base miles, the kinds of things that can take the fun out of riding a bike...finish midpack, ok, I can do this. Maybe a time trial? I shaved my legs. I totally better back this shit up.
I need a road bike. Raid my 401(k), troll ebay, drive solo to Iowa for two races, come home with two medals. Sweet, I'm gonna tear it up.
Sadly, that turns out to be my best showing for most of the season. Join a kickass team. A little rough around the edges, brings it strong sometimes, and long on style. I'm not a bandwagon-jumping, rah-team type of guy, but they were the first team I've seen that made me think...yeah, THAT'S where I belong.
Little lessons, tiny mistakes, shine hard here and there, but when one small thing goes wrong...nothing. Excuses abound. No hill training, I neglect my bike, everybody gets stronger and my winter conditioning doesn't take me the distance anymore.
Whatever. It's fun. Lots of things go right. I took the penultimate turn at Downer's harder and faster than everyone in my heat. I absolutely threw my bike around the descent at Snake Alley. I stayed out of the red zone at Whitewater and saved it for the sprint. I took a few hard pulls out front that earned me the right to point at a spot at 5th wheel and say "coming in." I slipped off from the family just enough times to get my upgrade to cat 4.
So it is with some relief that I made it back to the podium this past weekend. ok, it was a beginners' heat. In ABR. In a time trial. (Technically, I've had less than 15 mass starts, so I can, in good conscience, race that division in ABR.)
But...it wasn't a gimme. There were some strong riders out there...some guys 15 years my junior, some with all the high end gear that can shave a minute or two off in the course of 9.8 miles. I dusted off the single speed and killed it in 22:56, for second place, averaging 25.6 mph. (It would have been good enough for 10th in cat 4, but I think I would have gotten over my laziness and set up and tested a proper TT config for cat 4.)
Our team aspirations of putting someone on the overall podium in the Fall Fling weren't panning out. Rather than show up for the final stage running low on money, time, and energy, I decided to go out on a high note.
and so. Adieu.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
quattro stagione: stages 1 and 2
I tried my hand at the ABR Fall Fling: A four stage road race, split over two weekends, so us working stiffs can live out our TdF dreams. Much like a ghetto credit card, I'll be paying back the time to my wife with lots of interest. Race reports will be suspended for some time, replaced by drywalling or some other jobs on my list. But anyway, I couldn't do this crap if it weren't for her holding down the spot at home, so I dedicate my, um, victory results to her.
Day 1: Cat 4 road race, 40 miles, narrow going, a mild roller or two.
I feel ok, but I haven't touched a road bike in a month. My front tire is played out, so despite being 30 psi below its rating, it blows at the start line. I run back towards the car (not really sure what I'm going to do, since I don't have a spare wheel cued up) and an awesome guy named Raymundo hands me a Campy tubular that's probably worth more than my bike. I make it back to the start with seconds to spare. (Note to self, bring extra wheels, even if there's no wheel pit.)
I stay near the front, I do a couple pulls to keep my account in good standing, I creep to the redline a few times, I back off a couple turns at the front, but then again so does most everyone else. The road was narrow, the centerline rule was keeping us three abreast and slow, and a combine thirty feet wide took up the entire road for a mile, keeping us all even slower.
I hit a bump with one lap to go, my speedometer sensor starts clipping the front wheel, and since it's not mine, I don't take any chances. I pull over and fix it, but lose 40 seconds on the pack, at the wrong time. I waved off Brean because it would have damaged both of our chances to finish well. So I practice my time trialing, come in 34th, and my hope for GC glory is dashed.
Brean gets 3rd, Mike gets 10th, Trey, a friend-of-team, cramps up before the sprint and gets 32nd. Nadia, a junior and a Track Cat in her first road race, spaces on her start group, has to make up 35 seconds to join her pack, does so, but finishes DFL. Due to the magic of categorization, she finishes second in "beginner women" and gets a medal anyway.
Day 2: Wood Dale Crit: fast, smooth, not-so-stressful corners, a little kicker before turn four.
I'm working for Brean. Actually, they took away the double points for the road race, since a bunch of people crossed the centerline before the 200 M sprint marker, so they punish the top 20 equally. Which sucks, since Brean loses 18 free points on the deal, but Mike is now in the mix for overall classification, so I'm working for him too.
I decided to race Beginners/Cat 5 as well. Ten laps, and three in, Team Tati executed a move after the hill in turns 3/4, and came through with two hot riders. The second one sat up, and I was a couple spots back, and thought "No Fucking Way" and came around him. Unfortunately the guys in first and second either couldn't or wouldn't chase the guy off the front (Turns out it was Brian Hague, who did the same in the Beginners RR the day before). His 5 meter gap grew and long story short, that kid can TT, nobody would pull through, and we were all left fighting for second. Seven of us separated from the bunch to contest the sprint, and though I thought I'd saved enough through the last climb into the wind, everyone else did too. 8th place. BFD. I thought this Cat wouldn't be so tough, but a sprint is a sprint, and I didn't have it today.
The plan for the 4s race was for me to "get near the front" with 5 to go, my teammates to find me, and me to lead somebody out. I was not in the best form during this race, and was really worried I'd let them down, but I stayed up front, slipped back here and there, chased a break once or twice, worked a bit, backed off a bit, and decided to go for a prime even though the one guy chasing it was already 20 meters ahead when I decided (missed it by a wheel or so).
1/4 of the way throught the final lap, I managed to find myself in 4th, so THAT part of my mission was accomplished. A couple of strong guys from Mack were ahead of me, and two guys got separation while one Mack guy blocked me. I was determined not to let that happen again so I closed it up. I had no idea if either of my teammates were on my wheel, but I suspected I wouldn't make it to the lead out. Sure enough, I caught the leaders, but was swallowed with half a lap to go. Had one or both of them been on my wheel, it might have still kept them in the mix, but it didn't quite work out like that. Mike never made it up to me, Brean was close, but he had chased something down pretty hard with two to go and wasn't his usual sprinter's self. He came into turn three pretty hot and had to ease up, and got swept in too. He finished 24th, Mike at 30th, me at 32nd, and Trey (in his first crit) at 37th. Not exactly noteworthy, but Brean might still be one spot out of the money overall.
Nadia vindicated us all by grabbing another 2nd place in her Cat. She couldn't hang on to the pack at the gun, but linked up with another rider for some good pacing, sweeping up a couple dropped riders along the way. At least SOMEBODY around here is still on the podium.
Next week: goofy helmets and bars for the 10 mile TT, then one final crit.
Day 1: Cat 4 road race, 40 miles, narrow going, a mild roller or two.
I feel ok, but I haven't touched a road bike in a month. My front tire is played out, so despite being 30 psi below its rating, it blows at the start line. I run back towards the car (not really sure what I'm going to do, since I don't have a spare wheel cued up) and an awesome guy named Raymundo hands me a Campy tubular that's probably worth more than my bike. I make it back to the start with seconds to spare. (Note to self, bring extra wheels, even if there's no wheel pit.)
I stay near the front, I do a couple pulls to keep my account in good standing, I creep to the redline a few times, I back off a couple turns at the front, but then again so does most everyone else. The road was narrow, the centerline rule was keeping us three abreast and slow, and a combine thirty feet wide took up the entire road for a mile, keeping us all even slower.
I hit a bump with one lap to go, my speedometer sensor starts clipping the front wheel, and since it's not mine, I don't take any chances. I pull over and fix it, but lose 40 seconds on the pack, at the wrong time. I waved off Brean because it would have damaged both of our chances to finish well. So I practice my time trialing, come in 34th, and my hope for GC glory is dashed.
Brean gets 3rd, Mike gets 10th, Trey, a friend-of-team, cramps up before the sprint and gets 32nd. Nadia, a junior and a Track Cat in her first road race, spaces on her start group, has to make up 35 seconds to join her pack, does so, but finishes DFL. Due to the magic of categorization, she finishes second in "beginner women" and gets a medal anyway.
Day 2: Wood Dale Crit: fast, smooth, not-so-stressful corners, a little kicker before turn four.
I'm working for Brean. Actually, they took away the double points for the road race, since a bunch of people crossed the centerline before the 200 M sprint marker, so they punish the top 20 equally. Which sucks, since Brean loses 18 free points on the deal, but Mike is now in the mix for overall classification, so I'm working for him too.
I decided to race Beginners/Cat 5 as well. Ten laps, and three in, Team Tati executed a move after the hill in turns 3/4, and came through with two hot riders. The second one sat up, and I was a couple spots back, and thought "No Fucking Way" and came around him. Unfortunately the guys in first and second either couldn't or wouldn't chase the guy off the front (Turns out it was Brian Hague, who did the same in the Beginners RR the day before). His 5 meter gap grew and long story short, that kid can TT, nobody would pull through, and we were all left fighting for second. Seven of us separated from the bunch to contest the sprint, and though I thought I'd saved enough through the last climb into the wind, everyone else did too. 8th place. BFD. I thought this Cat wouldn't be so tough, but a sprint is a sprint, and I didn't have it today.
The plan for the 4s race was for me to "get near the front" with 5 to go, my teammates to find me, and me to lead somebody out. I was not in the best form during this race, and was really worried I'd let them down, but I stayed up front, slipped back here and there, chased a break once or twice, worked a bit, backed off a bit, and decided to go for a prime even though the one guy chasing it was already 20 meters ahead when I decided (missed it by a wheel or so).
1/4 of the way throught the final lap, I managed to find myself in 4th, so THAT part of my mission was accomplished. A couple of strong guys from Mack were ahead of me, and two guys got separation while one Mack guy blocked me. I was determined not to let that happen again so I closed it up. I had no idea if either of my teammates were on my wheel, but I suspected I wouldn't make it to the lead out. Sure enough, I caught the leaders, but was swallowed with half a lap to go. Had one or both of them been on my wheel, it might have still kept them in the mix, but it didn't quite work out like that. Mike never made it up to me, Brean was close, but he had chased something down pretty hard with two to go and wasn't his usual sprinter's self. He came into turn three pretty hot and had to ease up, and got swept in too. He finished 24th, Mike at 30th, me at 32nd, and Trey (in his first crit) at 37th. Not exactly noteworthy, but Brean might still be one spot out of the money overall.
Nadia vindicated us all by grabbing another 2nd place in her Cat. She couldn't hang on to the pack at the gun, but linked up with another rider for some good pacing, sweeping up a couple dropped riders along the way. At least SOMEBODY around here is still on the podium.
Next week: goofy helmets and bars for the 10 mile TT, then one final crit.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Let there be 'cross...
and there was, and it was good.
The Chicago Cyclocross Cup kicked off today, nearly doubling in size from recent incarnations, on a hot and muggy day in Hyde Park. I love the mud, love the heat, love racing in the city and LOVE getting to a race and back for pennies in gas. But mostly I love the abuse.
Unlike last year, when I ran about double the pressure I should've, this time I erred slightly in the other direction; my tires folded like a weak hand at a couple points in particular. Nothing major, though I can't wait for a couple of spectacular one-foot-off, rear-tire-sliding-out, odds-are-that-guy's-about-to-bite-it pics to show up on flickr. I managed to hit the one speck of pavement, but that was from pedal strike. I also tried to bunny hop a barrier in warmup. Unfortunately my low pressure soaked up my launching energy, I clipped the rear wheel, and hit the dirt. So I showed up at the line looking like I'd already done a heat....and skipped the bunny hop attempts during the race.
Cyclocross races are often little more than a hole shot plus a time trial, making for the dullest of race reports, and really, I'm starting to believe race reports are for an audience of one: me, for when I'm old(er) and so decrepit I can't recall the details. For the record: started stronger than my usual single speed spin, holding around 20th. Got passed by about five in the opening laps, but I was just off a group of a dozen and I knew if I could keep them in sight, I'd be able to pick them off. That part of the plan mostly worked. I felt a little sloppy on account of bending my tires on a few turns, strong in the small bumps, and fairly clean in the runups.
My plan only seriously failed in one regard. I don't know if I was getting stronger as the race went on, or everyone else was just getting weaker, but I was able to pick off spots pretty easily late in the game, meaning I didn't get caught up spending half a lap attacking and defending each one. In the paved straightaway coming into the s/f area at the beginning of the final lap, I saw that I had 4-5 guys behind me. I was extremely surprised no one successfully attacked me there, as my lack of gearing put me at a slight disadvantage. But as I held everyone off through the technical parts of the final lap, I felt like I could keep position if I just stayed calm.
The one truly ugly part of the course was a 180 turn in the middle of a downhill. Nobody took it well with any speed, and lots of people slid out. I knew I just had to take it conservatively there, but...whoops. I went down. I might have been ok, as nobody had a decent line to get around me, but I'd dropped my chain (yeah yeah, it's a single speed, don't ask why it happened, crappy chainline, a million miles on the drivetrain, yadda yadda). I could not get it back on, and a well-meaning spectator was actually not assisting as well as he thought. Anyway, I lost 5 spots, and got one back to finish 17th (out of how many? 70-90 or so? christ this sport is blowing up).
Despite the single-digit placing I'd hoped for, I'm pretty happy with it on several accounts. I recognized some names in my neighborhood of the results, and they are some guys who are at least 2 Categories above me on the road and track. Back when they had a singlespeed division, I got schooled by one guy who never finished worse than second, and I passed him a couple laps in. Most of all, I did it on a bike that, in its best day was worth about $600 - and that was about five years ago. There were some spare wheelsets in the pit that easily beat that. It's fun to beat people on a singlespeed, but it's even more fun when they are riding $2-4k bikes.
EDIT: I realized that I overlooked what's really the best part of cyclocross: the crowd, the vibe, the fact that people I hardly know are screaming bloody murder for me, the fact that people I don't know at all are calling me singlespeed badass, having my team screaming my name when I clean another racer in the double corkscrew, the bus (with a couch to bring right up alongside the course)...and of course, Luke yelling for everybody because he knows everyone in Lycra within a hundred mile radius. (Sorry man, I didn't recognize you with the beard!)
EDIT #2: It seems USAC has me listed in 11th place after all. Hm. No arguments here.
Despite being off to a blistering start, I have to take a small hiatus from 'cross. My frame is going back to my man Spicer to repair a couple of cracks, and besides...the next two weekends are reserved for my first stage race, the ABR Fall Fling. Woohoo!
The Chicago Cyclocross Cup kicked off today, nearly doubling in size from recent incarnations, on a hot and muggy day in Hyde Park. I love the mud, love the heat, love racing in the city and LOVE getting to a race and back for pennies in gas. But mostly I love the abuse.
Unlike last year, when I ran about double the pressure I should've, this time I erred slightly in the other direction; my tires folded like a weak hand at a couple points in particular. Nothing major, though I can't wait for a couple of spectacular one-foot-off, rear-tire-sliding-out, odds-are-that-guy's-about-to-bite-it pics to show up on flickr. I managed to hit the one speck of pavement, but that was from pedal strike. I also tried to bunny hop a barrier in warmup. Unfortunately my low pressure soaked up my launching energy, I clipped the rear wheel, and hit the dirt. So I showed up at the line looking like I'd already done a heat....and skipped the bunny hop attempts during the race.
Cyclocross races are often little more than a hole shot plus a time trial, making for the dullest of race reports, and really, I'm starting to believe race reports are for an audience of one: me, for when I'm old(er) and so decrepit I can't recall the details. For the record: started stronger than my usual single speed spin, holding around 20th. Got passed by about five in the opening laps, but I was just off a group of a dozen and I knew if I could keep them in sight, I'd be able to pick them off. That part of the plan mostly worked. I felt a little sloppy on account of bending my tires on a few turns, strong in the small bumps, and fairly clean in the runups.
My plan only seriously failed in one regard. I don't know if I was getting stronger as the race went on, or everyone else was just getting weaker, but I was able to pick off spots pretty easily late in the game, meaning I didn't get caught up spending half a lap attacking and defending each one. In the paved straightaway coming into the s/f area at the beginning of the final lap, I saw that I had 4-5 guys behind me. I was extremely surprised no one successfully attacked me there, as my lack of gearing put me at a slight disadvantage. But as I held everyone off through the technical parts of the final lap, I felt like I could keep position if I just stayed calm.
The one truly ugly part of the course was a 180 turn in the middle of a downhill. Nobody took it well with any speed, and lots of people slid out. I knew I just had to take it conservatively there, but...whoops. I went down. I might have been ok, as nobody had a decent line to get around me, but I'd dropped my chain (yeah yeah, it's a single speed, don't ask why it happened, crappy chainline, a million miles on the drivetrain, yadda yadda). I could not get it back on, and a well-meaning spectator was actually not assisting as well as he thought. Anyway, I lost 5 spots, and got one back to finish 17th (out of how many? 70-90 or so? christ this sport is blowing up).
Despite the single-digit placing I'd hoped for, I'm pretty happy with it on several accounts. I recognized some names in my neighborhood of the results, and they are some guys who are at least 2 Categories above me on the road and track. Back when they had a singlespeed division, I got schooled by one guy who never finished worse than second, and I passed him a couple laps in. Most of all, I did it on a bike that, in its best day was worth about $600 - and that was about five years ago. There were some spare wheelsets in the pit that easily beat that. It's fun to beat people on a singlespeed, but it's even more fun when they are riding $2-4k bikes.
EDIT: I realized that I overlooked what's really the best part of cyclocross: the crowd, the vibe, the fact that people I hardly know are screaming bloody murder for me, the fact that people I don't know at all are calling me singlespeed badass, having my team screaming my name when I clean another racer in the double corkscrew, the bus (with a couch to bring right up alongside the course)...and of course, Luke yelling for everybody because he knows everyone in Lycra within a hundred mile radius. (Sorry man, I didn't recognize you with the beard!)
EDIT #2: It seems USAC has me listed in 11th place after all. Hm. No arguments here.
Despite being off to a blistering start, I have to take a small hiatus from 'cross. My frame is going back to my man Spicer to repair a couple of cracks, and besides...the next two weekends are reserved for my first stage race, the ABR Fall Fling. Woohoo!
Monday, September 08, 2008
off the front! yay! off the course...waah.
Palos Meltdown, Beginner. I'm absurdly early but it's a good thing because the last 18 spots were gone 15 minutes before registration opened. Everybody's got front suspension mountain bikes. I've got a single speed 'cross bike. And a road kit. And stubble on my legs. Yeah, I'm that guy. 'sup?
A handful of other 'cross racers show up, mostly from Half Acre. Whew, at least I won't be the only goofball out here.
Race bell + 1 minute: in first place.
+ 2 minutes: off with a gap.
+ 4 minutes: off course.
I was operating under the instructions at the start: "At every intersection, there will be a marshal pointing the right way to go." Turns out I was on a fast dirt road trailing off to the right, with a not-very-clearly-marked entry to the woods on the left. No caution tape across the natural line, nothing. Whatever.
Grrr. At least my teammate Max took the win, introducing the full-suspension crowd to our little friend Eddy Merckx. We had a sneaking suspicion we were sandbagging, but standing around at the finish, seeing 8 year olds coming in DFL...um, that pretty much confirmed it. (In our defense, it was his first mountain bike race, and my 3rd, with the first two being in 1995.) The top 5 spots were 'cross racers, and half the race was plain old dirt road giving us a significant advantage...but anyway. It was a race; consider it reported.
Interesting notes:
1. Mountain bike races and their crowds are still a million times cooler than road races. At the start line, guys were like "Hey, howya doin? Nice bike!" - except for a few spandex crossovers bringing the roadie ice. Free PB&Js at the start/finish? Rock on! It seemed like there was a raffle prize for every two racers at the finish. I won a saddlebag. Presumably to hold my sand next time.
2. Trophies! (AND an age group medal) Holy crap, can you imagine getting a trophy two feet tall for winning a Cat 5 road race? Awesome! I plan on gazing at my trophy longingly for many years to come...on the mantle at Max's house.
3. I would have loved to hit Sport (225 racers...uh, wtf? though they seemed to stagger it out well by age) or better yet, Expert, at 32 miles for a killer pre-'cross training circuit. I suspect my head tube would've split asunder in a real 2-hour technical mtb race though.
Unfortunately, even the promise of a life-sized trophy won't be enough to get me in a beginner's race again. I'd have to crawl under a rock if I did that. Maybe I'll see how the bike holds up in Sport class...though I suspect in Wisco, it's a whole different game.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
insert your favorite tri pun here
As much as I love a good road race, I had to skip the State Championships today, even though it could have been my last race as a 5. Instead...I played support crew to Ella in the (kids') Chicago Triathlon.
Technically, this was her third one, but since the lake was creeping with microscopic bugs last year, it became a duathlon, and her other event at Oswegoland was kind of a "Are you ok after the swim? Here, take a rest and when you're ready, you can do the bike" kind of kids' event. (For the record, she got second in that one to a kid named Julia who's also been spotted at Northbrook.)
She was pumped. One kid was crying, many were nervous, but she was digging in the sand or rocking out to thumpy disco on the PA. In the early heats, we noticed a number of older kids pulling repeated butterfly dives off the bottom of the lake when the water was too deep to run in, and she was practicing those in the interminable standing around period. They helped quite a bit, both starting and finishing the swim.
If you don't get in early, you end up kind of walking through the water in a pack while a half dozen swimmers open a gap, so she got a great spot at the rope and protected it, even joking around with another racer, making fun of the big stupid clown at the start. She got in the water pretty well, and she was 11th coming out. She picked off a few spots to get into 8th before reaching transition.
We'd walked through transition earlier, and despite picking out some landmarks (at this garbage can, look for the American flag and the big tree) she lost a bit of time because there were two garbage cans, a bunch of flags, and a few trees. Oops. Next time we really should buy a silly balloon. Still, she found her bike pretty quickly, and thanks to mom's number belt and her awesome "tri-suit" (actually a bathing suit for four-year-olds) she didn't have to put on a shirt. She also skipped the socks, and it paid off big. She was in third coming out of T1!
The girls ahead of her also had "proper" road bikes, so she wasn't getting free Huffy time, she had to reel them in honestly. She was pretty solid in the bike, and other than one punk ass little shit who blocked her a bunch of times, saying "that's racing," thankfully that leg was uneventful. In the future she has permission to call kids like that Big Fat Losers and point out that they started four minutes ahead of her.
She came in to T2 in second place, and held it starting the run. I saw the leader and fed Ella her time gap, 20 seconds. A cranky woman with sharpie-numbered arms and skin like beef jerky scowled and said "You shouldn't tell her that." I laughed it off because the funny thing is, you might think that we're typical uber-parents who are overgrooming their kids for sports (er, um, guilty as charged on that, these kids have a frickin' stable of bikes), and that we're just pouring on the pressure, but she's so much more suited for this crap than I ever was. I remember wanting to barf before C-league baseball games, and she's lining up with 40 bigger girls, trading elbows, about to tear off into a scrum in Lake Michigan, and she's digging it.I laughed even harder when I found out that my wife was 50 meters away, and she fed Ella the same time info! I guess we're both a little uber...but hey, some kids are out here to finish...so what if she's out here to win? It's a race, for chrissakes!
In the end, she gained about half the time back to finish her heat in second place, as it turns out, to the same girl who beat her in Oswegoland last year. Her age group had one other heat, and after they sorted the times, she finished 4th of 83! Holy Shit! Not bad for her first "real" triathlon. The best part was that all day she kept talking how much fun it was.
As a footnote, I have to add that I generally find triathletes wound a little too tight. I won't go into the whole Tri experience, the dorky Tri jokes on everyone's shirts, the Expo, the carbon-fiber shoelace aglets that everyone has to have, the conversation I overheard from a racer who made a spreadsheet of the magnesium/sodium levels of 20 sports drinks because he was suffering from cramps...you get the picture (for the record, a number of roadies fit that mold as well, and I've been known to geek out on training, but not like that). Then you have to factor in that parents with our socioeconomic status are often prepared to fight to the bloody death over a bad call on the soccer field...But the one thing that really bothered me was the fact that many, many of the parents were simply not cheering for anyone but their own kids. I had a clown horn, a rattling noisemaker, a cowbell, a camera, a 6-year-old, a wife out there somewhere texting me every two minutes, and an eye out for a kid in a day-glo orange suit, and I still yelled for every racer that went by. A disturbing number of people just stood there, clapped for their own kid, and then watched wave after wave of kids suffering just roll by. It makes me want to show up next year looking like Mysterio:
Sunday, August 17, 2008
spend it if you got it
...isn't a great policy for winning races, especially if you don't have a whole lot to spare.
Downer's Grove Cat 5, Heat two
Got into top five after a couple and mostly stayed there. Seemed to be able to attack at will on the hill and the s/f, feeling it out. Not a lot of cornering skills on display in my heat, but nothing too sketchy as the course was plenty wide.
No major splits but the field seemed to be snapping back a little less each time. With three to go, one kid talked of making a break, but it turned out he was all talk. Four of us had a bit of a gap after the turn four climb, but only two of us put anything into it. I poured it on and tried to keep it on, but didn't get much help, at least not when it could've counted.
When I saw that no one was really up for it, I backed off and tried to recover, but the bell lap set everyone off, and I got a little swarmed. I should've taken my chances in the bunch sprint, as most everyone faded with 50 to go. 13th. whatever. I don't think of myself as a sprinter, but then I see how the other Cat 5s finish and realize that I should just go for it.
To add to my frustration, I wasn't allowed to sign up for heat three, as they were "trying to give everyone a chance to race." Turns out both heats were only 2/3rds full, but they still wouldn't let me jump in. grrr. I realize that's what pre-registration is for, but there were 17 open spots in heat three!
Downer's Grove Cat 5, Heat two
Got into top five after a couple and mostly stayed there. Seemed to be able to attack at will on the hill and the s/f, feeling it out. Not a lot of cornering skills on display in my heat, but nothing too sketchy as the course was plenty wide.
No major splits but the field seemed to be snapping back a little less each time. With three to go, one kid talked of making a break, but it turned out he was all talk. Four of us had a bit of a gap after the turn four climb, but only two of us put anything into it. I poured it on and tried to keep it on, but didn't get much help, at least not when it could've counted.
When I saw that no one was really up for it, I backed off and tried to recover, but the bell lap set everyone off, and I got a little swarmed. I should've taken my chances in the bunch sprint, as most everyone faded with 50 to go. 13th. whatever. I don't think of myself as a sprinter, but then I see how the other Cat 5s finish and realize that I should just go for it.
To add to my frustration, I wasn't allowed to sign up for heat three, as they were "trying to give everyone a chance to race." Turns out both heats were only 2/3rds full, but they still wouldn't let me jump in. grrr. I realize that's what pre-registration is for, but there were 17 open spots in heat three!
Monday, August 11, 2008
final four, a long overdue (alleycat) race report
The Bicycle Film Festival just pulled through Chicago. A citywide scavenger hunt, a Blues Brothers-themed alleycat, loads of short films, and a block party were all on the agenda.
Tacked on to the tail end of it all was a sprints and skids competition benefiting the largest and most utilitarian member of our team, the Cuttin' Cruiser. The fixed gear gang were doing backward loops, barspins, one-foot-through-the-frame skids, 180s and whatnot, but to be honest, they were kind of a sideshow compared to the flatland bmx-ers leftover from the earlier comp.
I sat out the IRO sprints, mostly on account of the fact that it seems like the kind of thing you do in a wintertime bar. For me the main event was the sprint comp. Two blocks long, one-on-one. Fairly small turnout at 30-something contestants, but nonetheless fun.
I'm not particularly experienced at these, but it seems like there's not a lot of strategy: just go for 30 seconds. It's a little longer than a simple sprint, but not long enough that there are any options for drafting or playing scratch games. I wasn't sure if I was in the right gear, wasn't sure I could get to speed quick enough, wasn't sure if I could spin out if someone in a steeper gear was reeling me in late. It's amazing how such a short event could still break down to a beginning, middle, and end.
My plan was to start hard-ish, and keep an eye on the other guy, and stay just ahead of him while conserving my energy for the later rounds. First round was harder than I expected, nerves and adrenaline pushing me to a 1-2 length win.
Second round I had the benefit of racing a guy who popped his chain. One less trip to the red zone.
Third round I raced my teammate Daryl. He was one of the guys I'd hoped not to race, but it was impossible to avoid those guys in the later rounds. I held him off, but I was helped by the fact that he spent his morning finishing 6th at Glencoe.
That put me in the final four. Somehow one of the bracket winners (Simon?) had been accidentally set aside, and so when he surfaced, he was thrown in for a three-man heat. I wasn't thrilled about it, as it gave me another pair of wheels to watch, but what can you do. Simon took it, and tying for third won me a pint of Ole Grand Dad, a fitting and useful prize (and apparently a third place tradition for Chicago alleycats).
In retrospect, as tricked out as my bike is, the low-spoke-count wheels were a little heavy off the line, but mostly I should've just hammered harder off the line and not bothered eyeballing the two other guys. There's also a distinct possibility that I'm just not as fast as the guy that beat me.
If there's some silver lining, it's that my teammate Stanley beat the guy that beat me, to take home the win. I jokingly harassed him that we had unfinished business at the end of the day, but as he won the Blues Brothers alleycat the day before and finished fourth at Glencoe that morning, he had good reason not to take me up on it...not that I really wanted to.
Actually, the highlight of the day was that my family finally came out to see me race, and they got to meet the team, watch some tricks, check out the chifg scene, and learn how to evade masked strangers that want to shake your hand. One thing I found particularly funny: my kids were starving, but we couldn't go eat dinner until the sprints were done, so every time I won a heat, they were totally disappointed: "Not again!" Gotta love your fans.
Tacked on to the tail end of it all was a sprints and skids competition benefiting the largest and most utilitarian member of our team, the Cuttin' Cruiser. The fixed gear gang were doing backward loops, barspins, one-foot-through-the-frame skids, 180s and whatnot, but to be honest, they were kind of a sideshow compared to the flatland bmx-ers leftover from the earlier comp.
I sat out the IRO sprints, mostly on account of the fact that it seems like the kind of thing you do in a wintertime bar. For me the main event was the sprint comp. Two blocks long, one-on-one. Fairly small turnout at 30-something contestants, but nonetheless fun.
I'm not particularly experienced at these, but it seems like there's not a lot of strategy: just go for 30 seconds. It's a little longer than a simple sprint, but not long enough that there are any options for drafting or playing scratch games. I wasn't sure if I was in the right gear, wasn't sure I could get to speed quick enough, wasn't sure if I could spin out if someone in a steeper gear was reeling me in late. It's amazing how such a short event could still break down to a beginning, middle, and end.
My plan was to start hard-ish, and keep an eye on the other guy, and stay just ahead of him while conserving my energy for the later rounds. First round was harder than I expected, nerves and adrenaline pushing me to a 1-2 length win.
Second round I had the benefit of racing a guy who popped his chain. One less trip to the red zone.
Third round I raced my teammate Daryl. He was one of the guys I'd hoped not to race, but it was impossible to avoid those guys in the later rounds. I held him off, but I was helped by the fact that he spent his morning finishing 6th at Glencoe.
That put me in the final four. Somehow one of the bracket winners (Simon?) had been accidentally set aside, and so when he surfaced, he was thrown in for a three-man heat. I wasn't thrilled about it, as it gave me another pair of wheels to watch, but what can you do. Simon took it, and tying for third won me a pint of Ole Grand Dad, a fitting and useful prize (and apparently a third place tradition for Chicago alleycats).
In retrospect, as tricked out as my bike is, the low-spoke-count wheels were a little heavy off the line, but mostly I should've just hammered harder off the line and not bothered eyeballing the two other guys. There's also a distinct possibility that I'm just not as fast as the guy that beat me.
If there's some silver lining, it's that my teammate Stanley beat the guy that beat me, to take home the win. I jokingly harassed him that we had unfinished business at the end of the day, but as he won the Blues Brothers alleycat the day before and finished fourth at Glencoe that morning, he had good reason not to take me up on it...not that I really wanted to.
Actually, the highlight of the day was that my family finally came out to see me race, and they got to meet the team, watch some tricks, check out the chifg scene, and learn how to evade masked strangers that want to shake your hand. One thing I found particularly funny: my kids were starving, but we couldn't go eat dinner until the sprints were done, so every time I won a heat, they were totally disappointed: "Not again!" Gotta love your fans.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)