batting .750

I'm starting to find social media a little vainglorious, but I started this thing, and come this far, so I may as well celebrate on my little corner of the Internet: Last night in Kenosha, I won three straight races! Yeah, it's only an upgrade to cat 4, but I wasn't sandbagging, I promise! I asked about it last week and they said...we'll see.

Cat 5 500 M chariot: Pole spot, Al Urbanski as my holder, giving me advice. Wire to wire out front. This is not an event I ever expect to win in higher categories.

Masters' 4/5 Points race: A couple of stupid attacks, then a couple of better-timed attacks to get 2-3 of us on a break. I was tied with the stronger of two breakmates on points, and with under 3 to go, he finished his pull and I attacked, and stayed away for the win.

Cat 5 Points race: Kind of the same story. Two of us escaped, traded pulls, fairly even on points, so I took top points once and for good measure, escaped with a couple to go to take the final batch.

They called me over the loudspeaker to the table, and the field went "ooooo" like I was called to the Principal's office. I thought, uh was I a little squirelly in the sprinter's lane or something? but no, they informed me I'd just done my last race as a cat 5. First time I've been upgraded like that. Finished the night getting 3rd in the 4/5 scratch, and spent my winnings on a Washington Park Velodrome T-shirt and a cheeseburger. Good times in Wisco.

PRs for all

On a whim, I decided to race the 5k in the "Ricky Byrdsong Race Against Hate" up in Evanston. I was going to pace Ella but at the starting line, she hooked up with a friend from soccer and gave me the "please disappear" treatment. On Father's Day, no less!

So I decided to gun it and I was feeling pretty good somehow. I kept passing people and when I thought about settling in with a little pack, I thought, Jedi-style: "this is not my race, my race is up ahead." I hit the two mile mark at 14 minutes and I was pretty happy with that. I finally got passed by someone, a shirtless tri dude who looked legit. I drafted him into the final 1000 meters. Turned out he was running with two guys, one of whom he called "coach." Coach edged ahead and I jumped into his quoute/unquote draft, saving it for the sprint. Turns out I was running outside of my pace already, and this guy just started to build speed and I couldn't hang on. A third buddy of theirs took off with 500 to go, like I'd hoped to, but I was already on the edge. I held off tri guy though.

21:17! That's crazy! I've never really run that distance before and playing games with those guys gave me a 6:30 final mile. I ended up 5th in my age group, 56th/1294. I'll take it.

Ella and her friend got boxed into a crowd and never got out. They came in just under 27 minutes, two minutes off her PR, but I suspect that it might have done them a favor to pace them. It was funny to hear her afterward squawking about her eight and half minute pace, saying she hoped to hold seven and a half. She's ten. I still don't know how to figure out my pace until I look at the clock afterwards. Turns out she got 6th in U14. I smell the podium next year. An hour later she paced a 4th grader in the mile like it was nothing. What's up with these kids? I didn't have any sort of athletic achievements until I was in my 30s.

Lang also knocked two minutes off his PR, finishing the mile in just under ten minutes. He came up with his own little pacing strategy too. I've told him stopping is just bad news, but walking fast works. He'd run until he couldn't run anymore, then slow down to a fast walk, count out loud to five, then run again. Doing this three times got him through. It was pretty cool to see him figure that stuff out without me just telling him the whole time "keep it up, almost done, looking good..."

Good Times, Mediocre Times

There were a lot of racing options this weekend. Oddly, the weather looked like two of them would get rained out, but the OTHER one got dumped on. I think all velodromes should have a semi-permanent cyclocross course on hand, the first drop of rain and they shut it down, and your pre-race gameplan is all for nought.

Friday night racing at Northbrook: I'm still working on 10 starts for my upgrade, so I made it out for the first 'official' Friday night. Lightly attended with 14 elites and four juniors, but hey, it's still racing.

Five lap Tempo: I think I got top points three times, including the last lap, plus a second place and a prime. Win!

Unknown: Hassled the field with a solid tempo, attacked for a prime and stayed out for three laps around the 12 lap mark. Ring that bell! They didn't. I got caught. THEN they rang the bell. Salvaged it to come around to 3rd place.

20 lap points race: I took top points every time, and both primes. Game over.

I won the Omnium and walked away with $35. It's been a while since I've come out ahead at a race. It's also been a while since that cat 5 season when I came home with a prize for the kids almost every time, so it's nice to do that again.

Saturday, Ella opted out of Sherman Park and so did I. She wasn't at full energy, the weather was shaping up to be crap, and frankly, she wasn't really jazzed at the prospect of riding another TT as the only ten-year-old girl in the field, especially after they started a single 10-18s field at Monsters. Can't say I blame her. We'll find some appropriate competition for her one of these days.

Sunday was the Iowa Track State Championships (held in Kenosha, the closest track). I wasn't at full strength, but it was a solid day of firsts nonetheless. First flying 200: 13.62. First Kilo: 120:2. First 4k Pursuit: 5:38. First 'sanctioned' Match Sprint: 4th/8. First 'long' Points race: 60 laps! My times were thoroughly mediocre, but I finally got to clock some laps in the x-wing bars, a bit jarring on the fast bumpy track up there.

I won a solid match sprint, then went against Jeff, which was awesome, but I couldn't really imagine under what circumstances I could win. I attacked at the whistle...nope, he reeled me in. Thought about razoring, but he pushed me uptrack, bumping elbows at 20+ mph. I didn't really know what I was doing but I figured he was trying to school me on how the big boys do it, so I bumped back. Then he just ditched me with 200 m to go.

The points race was a bloodbath. 60 laps and maybe 7-8 riders. Lots of attacks, nowhere to hide. Technically it was a 3/4/5 race but Liam is practically a cat 2 in two disciplines and one of the racers was 50+, so there just wasn't anywhere to sit in, though Jeff hung back and helped me out for points when I lost the front of the race. I was hoping to just ride Liam's wheel for second, but this Iowa junior (and de facto State Champ) was sweeping up second place points. My attacks to drop him didn't pan out and I rode myself out of it. I finished third.

The junior, 50+, and organizer were the only Iowa residents so all three went home with medals. One little bonus: so many medals went unawarded, that two Silvers turned up laying around on the infield, so the kids did score a couple of souvenirs after all.

three-peat

One morning in May, in my head was a voice,
it seems that sometimes, I have no choice.

Stage Race? Masters? What road should I take?
Fool that I am, I hear the call of the Snake.

Once when I was young and a lot more lean
I could do this one handed, on fifty three sixteen.

Those days are gone, and hills I now lack,
my only altitude on the banks of a track.

If you can't be on top, best make it a game
and ride it again and again and again.

Saddle up with the 40s, and keep a smart pace
no chasing the pros, but find SOMEONE to race.

Eleven laps in the tank, and my day has begun
oh well: twenty-sixth of just thirty-one.

Juice up and hose down, swap numbers, stay clean
find my way to the back row, for laps twelve through eighteen.

Though picking up spots on the climbs and descents,
they whistled us off, "no more for you gents."

Re-pinned and re-juiced, on the line for thirty plus
Turning pedals in anger, finish *this* one I must.

Wheelie! They cried, and the crowd I obliged
but...Manual? Bunny Hop? Oh well, I tried.

At last I approached the line for my bell,
but behind me? The leaders, sprinting like hell!

I pulled up in a track stand off to the side
let them go through, and posted in stride.

But I felt a little cheap, just doing twenty seven
so I rode it once more, until twenty eleven.