Whoa. I’m back.

In the past ten days or so, I’ve effectively doubled the amount of racing I’ve had all year. It’s pretty wild being able to say that at the end of July. Not racing collegiate and breaking a collarbone in June will do that to you. It’s interesting watching some guys start to fizzle just as I’m starting to get back into shape.

Stupor Week:
Speaking of getting back into shape: doing it at Superweek is rough. I usually show up to the collegiate scene in good but not great shape. At the collegiate scene I’d typically be near the top end of the field, and ride my way to fitness while putting others in the hurtbox. Showing up at Superweek without good fitness was a different story—it was an exercise in perseverance for sure. For “warmup” (and my first race back) I did the Bloomington crit (the Indiana State Championship, no less). I was able to ride my bike to the course as warm-up, and have a pint (or several) at the finish line pub post-race. Cool. The race was surprisingly hard, and the pace never let up for more than a ½ lap. Nuvo had a bajillion guys, and took the win. I was actually thinking about pulling the plug with 1 lap to go—didn’t want to get argy bargy in a bunch sprint—but I finished it out anyway. I was one bombed corner from the top ten, so I jumped in line and sprinted to 8th. For a local crit it’s nothing to brag about, but considering it was my first race back, I was OK with things. There are some pretty hilarious pictures of me from that race looking like I was suffering pretty badly. Based on the photos, you’d think I just rode Alpe D’Huez twelve times or some such. I won’t link to the specific ones as I can’t stand the shame and embarrassment . However, here is one from the start where I only look moderately wanktastic:


I love Isaac’s tongue. Hahaha.

Then I went up to race anonymously at Superweek. I spent very little time at the front. I quickly found that I didn’t quite have the fitness to be racing at the very very front, and the 20th-40th positions were dicey. Breaking my collarbone has turned me into a huge wusse. It’s pretty hilarious being at the back of these races. People are so chill. “Take the wheel, it’s all yours bro” If I heard that in the first 10% of the field, I’d probably be in bed… dreaming. Anyways, I raced Whitnall Park (fun, tough), Cedarburg (sketchy at beginning, tough), Racine (wicked tough), Kenosha (fun, rainy), and Downer Ave (mega-fun).

The only race where I really didn’t have the juice was Racine. Just felt like shite the whole race and got gapped off one too many times. I’d typically race until there were just a few laps left and then pull the plug—I’m not going to win a bunch kick at Superweek when I’m in good shape and I’m certainly not going to win one when I’m in poor shape. On top of that, the spot I’d be able to ride myself into (15th-30th wheel) is the most sketchtacular place to be. With not enough fitness to muscle my way further up I chose to save my collarbone for something else.

Downer Ave was crazy! I don’t usually dig the Garrison brothers’ work, but Downer was a different story. Freaking Blue Angel jets buzzing us mid-race? Wow, that was sweet. My whole chest reverberated with the noise. I couldn’t even hear the crowd anymore. Cool! I’m a pretty jaded crit rat, as I’ve been to a decent number of races, but I’ve never gotten the willies like I did at Downer Ave. Super Prime was a bust, but I wasn’t going to win that anyways.

So, all said and done, Superweek was a good way for me to get some racing in. The races had less attendance, but the fields had better riders. The races were generally better run, but the prizes were less and the entry fees were more (extra charge for writing a check? WTF?). Another few years and a healthy economy and perhaps the Garrisons will be able to get their shite together 100%.

Chicago Crit:
Not much to say about this other than the fact that Chris Horner probably was bored and scared out of his mind the whole race. It was easy, and slow. That meant that there were about 170 guys (of ~180 starters) who were fresh for the sprint. Yikes. I was glad to chill out, and avoid the last lap mayhem. Poor Adam Bergman looked like he ate it pretty hard on the last lap. Hope he’s OK. My teammate also had a date with the pavement, but turned out to be OK.

Great venue, but boring race.


A Rant:
Lastly:
I must say that this year my perspective on racing has changed a lot. The focus is no longer on being a P-R-O, it’s on having fun while racing my bike. Since, I’ve started to see a lot of things that I never noticed before about the typical ego-maniacal face-smashing Cat 1 bike-bum. The worst part about this perspective change is that I realized that I used to resemble some of what I’m about to describe. For all you face-smashers out there:

News Flash: If you are racing as an amateur in the US, you just aren’t that goddamn good. You are likely an order of magnitude shittier than a so-so Pro Tour rider. On top of that, our sport has almost no following in the U.S. In other words, unless you are Lance Armstrong, no one cares.

Due to the fact that no one cares, the sport is propped up by a variety of wealthy people with interest in the sport. When the economy turns sour, those people just can’t support every D-Bag Cat 1 bike-bum.

Seriously. You don’t “deserve” to have your entry fee, gas, hotel, clothes, and bike paid for just because you win 3 races a year that no one pays attention to. If you are lucky enough to be on a team that supports you at all, be appreciative. Lose the ego. I hear amateurs complaining about how they can’t make any money racing their bike because their winnings go back to paying their next entry fee. *Ring Ring* Clue Phone: You are an amateur. There are “Professionals” in this sport that don’t even get paid. Show some damn appreciation. You just aren’t that good.

There are less and less people able to prop up this sport every day. I bet if they heard the sense of entitlement that I hear, they’d leave the sport in a heartbeat.

Bike-Bums Everywhere: Thank your sponsors. Ditch the entitlement. Accept what is given to you with grace and appreciation. That is all.

Ah yes... So what is going on with John Meyers?

He never updates his blog, hasn't been seen at the bike races, and is whispered to have gone insane--apparently he only talks in third person now. Perhaps he has gone the way of Tommy "Blow" Boonen, or worse... Marco "Elefantino" Pantani. He's probably laying dead at the Muscatine Motel 6 after snorting one-too-many-lines off a wrinkly hookers bosom. Poor John "Pinnochio" Meyers, that big shnoz of his was inevitably his undoing... so sad. Tragic really.

...


Alas, if only my recent life could be storied with escapades of bosoms and blow. Let's face the truth. No one has a bike racing blog where they get excited about posting about how slow they've been riding, how little they've been racing, and how many bones they've broken recently. That's fscking depressing.

To sum things up where I left off: I raced Joe Martin. Got a 6th and a 10th in the 1/2's road races (which were more like Cat 3 races because any real firepower raced with P/1's). Then, a few days after feeling and riding like trash at the Memorial Day Races, I broke my collarbone on a group training "race". A week later, I went ahead with the surgery, a la Mr. Armstrong. The cool pictures:

Exhibit A: Broken Stuff


Exhibit B: Titanium Stuff


I've been relatively lucky to not have broken any bones prior to this, and frankly, I think the experience was a good one for someone who has interest in becoming an orthopedic surgeon. However, life is all about timing. I broke my collarbone two days before my final day at work--I had put in my two weeks so I could...race my bike all summer long.

Too bad, so sad.

The good news is that I've been able to ride (Indoors in 5 days, outdoors in 10 after surgery), and despite what my doctor told me to do, I even raced this weekend...at a time trial. Don't look for results, I went slow. That's all that needs to be said.

Anyhow, in about 3 weeks I should be able to take part in a mass start race, and life will be grand.

That's all for now.

Tour of St. Louis:
I'll tell ya, I really like these little races that make you feel like "the real deal". Tour of St. Louis had a Crit, Time trial, and Circuit race. The TT (and corresponding omnium prizes) really makes the weekend a bit more fun and helps to add another element to the racing. The weekend went something like this:

Crit:
This was an oddly tactical race. We were never really going that hard, but groups started to go up the road, have a decent gap, and stay out there. Most races it seems that everyone has to have half a lung spasming on their top tube before the break finally goes. Not here; Jeff went up the road with 5 others in a strange, not-that-fast move. Soon after, I bridged to a not-that-fast chase group and sat on. I kept getting yelled at for not working, but hey: I have faith in Jeff being able to win out of the move up the road. Dragging up 6 more dudes doesn't help our situation.

Due to the general slowness of the field, Jeff's move lapped the field. My chase group got tired of me sitting on, and went slower and slower until the field caught us. Groupo compacto. Now it is time to make sure Jeff can win.

Sidenote: It's also really freaking hot. At one point I turned around and saw only 20 dudes left. We started with twice that.

Anyhow, we make it to the last lap, and Mercy puts a couple dudes on the front to try and bring their up-a-lap man to the finish. It's Mercy, Mercy, Mercy, Me, Jeff, and everyone else. With 1/4 lap to go, I jump the Mercy train with Jeff in tow. Just enough room for Jeff in the gutter--the crosswind is strong. I drill it, take the corner hard, hear Jeff scream "Go outside" and as I'm packing up, Jeff flies around me with 150m to go for the Vee. Nice. I look back and the pack is splintered. I get back on the gas, and ended up in the top non-lapping spot in the field as well. A good start to the omnium.

TT:
A TT is usually just a TT. Go hard. Suffer. Feel ill. Hate life. The usual. This TT wasn't too different except for the ENORMOUS cross tailwind on the way out, and corresponding headwind on the way in. I spent some legit time in the 55 x 11, smashing it, just flying. Course was perfectly flat, smooth, awesome. Nice turnaround too. We had a cul-de-sac, not a knocked over cone.

I grabbed the vee there, and Jeff got 3rd. Good shape for the omnium. Oh, and I got $110 for winning the TT. That's probably the biggest pay-out for a Time Trial in the history of American bike racing.

Circuit Race:
Jeff once again proved that being able to read races is just as important as having the legs to win them. Jeff was in the hotseat, 1st in the omnium. I was in second. The plan was that I would not work any moves without Jeff. Each move I got in ended up dying--the unfortunate psychology of bike racing. It didn't matter though, Jeff bridged to two, I played shut 'er down, and he ended up with the vee, again. I got in a last lap move and took the "field sprint" for fourth. Not bad.

So, all said and done, ABD went 1-2 in the omnium, and won every event.

Sweet.

I'll be back next year.


Vernon Hills GP:
I also did a little race up in Chicago-land. It went something like this:

Follow a move, watch one committed fellow take a half decent pull. 2nd in line takes two pedal strokes, and then wildly flicks his elbow. Third in line, the same. Then everyone looks at the ABD rider (me, or my teammates) to drag the break around. To all the Chicagoans: We don't need to drag you around to get in moves. If you want to be in a break, don't expect a) someone else to do the work for you and b) it to not hurt. That’s how breakaways work: they hurt.

Anyhow, the plan for the day was for Ryan to win anyways, and since every time I so much as let out a toot, everyone wanted a whiff of it... Ryan ended up the road with Brian Dziewa. I followed the chase groups as they formed, but it seemed everyone expected me to chase down my own guy. Not going to happen.

After covering Scott Pearson's 3rd attack I decided that I wouldn't cover the next one. Ebert was on him like white on rice, and thus the remainder of the money spots were up the road.

Ryan smoked Dziewa and took the Vee. Ebert nabbed fourth, and I won the field sprint after watching some dudes get argy-bargy and try and kill Seth Meyer. Seth wisely took the straight line through the turn and watched Mr. argy-bargy eat shit. Seth has broken enough ribs this year, he need not break more.

Now off to Joe Martin. My fitness isn't where I'd like it to be, but that's OK. Joe Martin will serve as a springboard for the rest of the year: about to quit my job and play bike racer. One last hurrah before med school. I'm excited.

See y’all at dem bike races.

First person to figure out and show me how to fix that <ul> on the right so it is aligned slightly more to the left gets a cookie.

I fussed with it for 5 minutes, and have decided I am much too lazy.

Team training camp was pretty cool. Did a solid 5.5 hour ride with Mr. Ryan Freund. About to go out for a sloppy ride in the wet weather too.

Joe Martin is coming up. Time to start getting my plans all set. Exciting.

Hillsboro Roubaix '09:

First two laps were uneventful with very few moments of real excitement. Closest thing to excitement was when a break of 7 or 8 was up the road, and Texas Roadhouse put 5-6 guys on the front to bring it back.

Beginning of lap 3, I decided to take off for a short lived move with Chad Hartley and Will Nowak. When it came back I flatted. I waited, and waited, and waited. About 4-5 minutes passed before I got my wheel change, and I said screw it. The pack was gone, way gone.

As it turns out, (right as I flatted) Puffer meandered away from the field, and several bridged to form the winning move. That was all she wrote. Jeff Schroetlin made the break and pulled out a 4th. Jensen won.

At one point I thought my epoxy-repaired wheel was on the verge of imploding, but I realized that was not the case--it was just the road making a somewhat rhythmic thump-thump-thump-thump. When I flatted though, I pretty much ended any life left in that fixed up rim. Oh well. The front is still going strong.

That about covers it. Don't think I'm going to race in Indy today. Radar looks like a shit storm will hit right at showtime. Looks like I should have stayed in St. Louis. Damnit.