and on Monday god created racing

...and with it, senseless blogging from an overcaffeinated cat 4:

The fine folks at Half Acre have started up their training crit series, and as usual, it's loads of fun. Thinner fields this year, and some outtatown pro cross racer slash sandbagger killing everyone about half the time. Only our fearless USCF technical director would disapprove an upgrade request for a guy who's hit the podium eight times in four days, lapping the field half the time. (Really Fowkes? Really? You still think this guy is cat 5? Get over yourself.)

Soooo...Tuesday. Lined up with Jeff, Max, and Mike, and judging by the numbers, we should have been able to make something happen. The first three races had seemed, if not slow, a little measured and unbalanced with new 5s, with immediate splits in the field leading to "packs" of 15.

Unfortunately our race was the one to break that trend, it started fast and stayed relentless. A leadout train was expectable, but we'd been talking about sending me off on a flyer. With three to go, I tried to beg off, but Jeff talked me into it. We went with two to go, way early, but I had a feeling it wasn't going to have the desired effect, so I didn't argue. Jeff ramped it up nice and smooth to well over 30something, pulled off and I tried to 'jump.' haha, turns out I was hurtling for a corner and the same old line wasn't gonna cut it. I iced it a bit but hammered out of the corner. A couple of us had a gap, but not enough. The pace stayed hot which only guaranteed I couldn't recover in time for the sprint. Jeff was up there but he probably doesn't sprint for 6th. Mike was our top finisher in 7th.

Thursday: Me, Mike, and Max. 25 mph winds off the lakefront and cold. THIS is my kind of racing. The first race had this Toftoy dude going solo ten seconds into the race, and lapping the field. In our heat, I lined up behind him and held on. Thirty seconds in, and we had a huge gap! I thought, "this isn't too bad, I can keep this up for 30 minutes." We turned into the wind and I was still on, but a little zig and suddenly there's no quarter. He's in the gutter, I'm on his wheel, but I'm left hanging. I tried to hold on until the zag would open up a pocket of quieter air, but it never came. Maybe I made it a lap with him. I slip off.

I'm joined by a guy and I think, ok, let's do this, trade pulls to guarantee a podium. Next lap, first turn into the wind, he does about 5 seconds of work and motions for me to go ahead. I put in a solid, perhaps too solid, pull because I wanted to set the bar. His turn, and maybe he was saving something, but it was less than two laps in, and I just don't think he could really do it. Suddenly a third guy shows up and says "I'm here to work! Let's go." The two of them ride off. Great.

Drift back to the pack and I decide to do what I love best: attack. Get caught, recover, attack, get caught. The two pursuers ahead of us crack. I keep it up. Max and Mike sit in. Right when I start to think I'd better cool it, and start to think I might get dropped, I decided to try an experiment, at least to take a few people with me. I let a gap open up ahead of me, with about 3 guys on my wheel. By the time they realize I'm not dragging them back on, they go for it and can't make it back. The 21 starters have dwindled to about 14.

I attack to rejoin the pack...but can't catch them either. blah. I TT for 4-5 laps, getting a bit closer, but the leader laps us all and gets in with them and the pace lifts. Crap. One, another, another fall off and I pass them by, but still 10 seconds off the pack.

Mike and Max unfortunately BOTH continued the attacking ways, along with a couple others, but maybe one of them should have sat in. The "field" did get decimated down to 7, so I guess they all added up, but it would have been nice for one of us to have fresh legs for the end. Max and Mike got 5th and 7th.

One lap to go, a Loren from Tati and Adrian from Half Acre are out ahead of me. I didn't think I could catch them, as they were fighting oddly hard for two guys about to sprint each other. I just barely caught them and thought they might have more in the tank than me. I jumped while they were caught looking at one another, and I wound up a fine little sprint, if I say so myself. By the time they saw me, I was cruising and they both were yelling and laughing "WHAT? Where did you come from!" 9th for me, first spot after the pack.

And so, it's back on. The season that makes life worth living again.