It's been quite some time since I last reported on bike racing on this here bike racing blog. Life has been busy, but good.

This weekend I did what I've been doing for the past 5 years or so and raced the Memorial Day bike races out in IA. What a great series--a nice long Friday warm-up Burlington Road Race, Snake Alley, Melon City and Quad Cities "Cage Match" criteriums. This year was a different approach--going in I knew I was going to be a helper bee and not a winner bee (not that I've ever won any of these races, hah), and that helped me keep my head on straight when I finished near the bottom of the pack each day. In the past I'd have destroyed myself in an effort to finish top 20--if for nothing other than the decent payout at the end of the day. As a Cat 3 this was a well paying weekend...in the P/1/2 fields you have to be firing on all cylinders to pull a result, and that's with maybe a bit of good luck. That's what I love about these races, man. I get older, and they stay just as tough. (Insert Dazed and Confused reference here: "That's what I love about these high school girls, man. I get older, they stay the saaaaaaame age." )

Anyhow, here is how the weekend unfolded:

Friday started out as usual, fast, but easy. Getting sucked along during that road race by the draft means just about anyone who knows how to pedal and remembers to drink in the heat can be around for the finish. However, only 3 dudes were in contention for the vee at the end--and fortunately, my teammate Will "I can bridge a 3 minute gap in 3 minutes or less" Nowak got across to the winning break and nabbed 3rd. A super solid result. Back in the field was a dramatic implosion by the Roadhouse train trying to pull the break back, followed by the typical chaotic field sprint. I thought it was pretty funny just how chippy people were getting at the end of that race. We were bumping bars a solid 15 miles from the finish jockeying for position. It never stopped. I'm pretty sure one of the Kenda Pro riders who's name is near mine in the results could have benefited from a (large) dose of barbituates or quaaludes or benzos, or maybe he just wasn't hugged enough as a child--but what do I know. Anyhow, we kept Mike out of the wind and banged bars and elbows until about 1k to go when I got to the front WAY TOO EARLY and did a pretty crappy wind-up to catch an ISCorp rider just off the front. I made it another 200M after bringing him back to the fold before I blew and left Danny and Mike to finish the job. Mike definitely did finish the job and narrowly missed winning the field sprint by one spot. 3rd and 5th is a solid start!

Saturday: This race is crazy, and usually only 20-25 of the 100 starters finish. I knew I was not one of the 25 strongest guys in the midwest and refrained from racing. Instead, I sprayed the guys with water and watched the sufferfest. I saw guys going deep in the pain cave--and these were guys that definitely were in better shape than I was. Definitely a good decision not to duke it out. It was a tough race for all the guys--Will spent the better part of the Road Race in the break the day before and only had a 23 to race with, Mike didn't have his 202's, Ryan weighs approximately 350 lbs, and Danny and Waylon were doing the race for the first time. The hill was as steep as ever, and the clusterfsck at the base of the climb seemed as intense as ever. Still, a few money spots were nabbed, and despite the suffering, I think all souls involved will be back next year.


This is why I didn't race the snake.

Sunday was surprisingly easy--all the fastest dudes in the race, including heir Freund got in the break and rolled away midway through. It sounds like everyone in the break forgot that Marcotte won the last two, three, or six editions (I forget) of the race, and no one but Freund were willing to light it up and attack him at the end of the race. Guess who won? Marcotte. They probably just pre-write the winners check with his name on it. I was in the hunt for the last few money spots if things went right, but they didn't, and I ended up grabbing two fistfulls of brake in the bunch sprint when a leadout man went backwards in front of me. Despite someone running into me from behind I managed to a) avoid being sodomized, b) avoid eating poo, and c) not break anything on my bike. In my book, that is as good as the $50 I might have won anyways.


Heir 350lb Freund, and if you have good eyes, Danny and I.

Monday:
Ho geez, was it just me or did this race start fast? Normally I can move right up to the front at the beginning of races, pretend like I know what I'm doing, and then fade to the back as the real racing starts. But not here. Seemed like the dudes coming out of turn 6 were just THROTTTLING (yes, with three T's) the pace every time into that headwind. I did eventually see the front of the race by pulling a few Ryan "Cleaver" Knapp chops. Greg Christian made a move after the last sprint that was looking good, and Will and I were in it, but it was swallowed up in mighty short order when man #2 in line (Dahmoff?) didn't pull through. Not like I was going to be powering the poop out of that break anyways. Oh well. I never saw the front after that brief effort. 350 lb Freund made a brave move at the end but was sucked up by the train(s). Without a train like the other teams, Mike was left fighting for scraps in a tight and treacherous crit and finished in the money to win a few bucks with Freund.


In other news: Verizon U25 P/B ABD is the best team I've ever ridden for. Great bunch of guys, and weekends are not only fun, but well organized. Shit gets done, bikes are raced, and we don't cry into our beer every day we don't win. Heck yea. All these years I spent being pissed off and angry after bike races when I should have been having fun. I thank everything holy that I kissed Ebert's ass enough last year that he kept me on the team and I didn't leave bike racing with a bitter taste in my mouth.

OK, that's all. Peace.

Normally I leave this blog to light hearted topics of bike racing and other silly bullshit. Today I had an experience at a clinic, and I want to vent about it. Luckily, I have this little outlet for just that.

Mental health is under represented in medical education. I watched two 4th year medical students and an MD "treat" a bipolar schizophrenic heroin addict looking for help with detox today. After worthless exhaustive interviewing, he realized that we could do nothing to help him, so he left, irritated. After he left, his irritation was written off as "paranoid/schizoid behavior".

I agreed with the poor man's stance: why should we (the doctor) get paid by the government (medicaid) to do nothing for him? Why was he not sent to the detox program from the beginning? Why did we bring up painful memories of the deaths of all of his loved ones so we could just send him on his merry way?

His view (and my accompanying view) was not popular in the clinic.

"There are procedures we have to follow"
-"Why"
"We don't want to be sued"

Do you really think this homeless heroin addict has a lawyer? Or, are you making sure you have enough shite in your notes to have a billable encounter?

Even more frustrating is the fact that I sat there watching it all, despite knowing immediately that we were not a facility for detox. While watching the man twitch and writhe in the misery of withdrawl ... I should have interjected and said, "We can not help, we are worthless medical students just hoping to hear S1 and S2 (Bike racers: S1/2 = heart sounds). Leave for the detox program now."

Frustrating. Just because some MD diagnosed him as schizophrenic, or because he uses heroin, does not mean we should just write him off. The man knew the year he first started smoking, the date he used heroin first, the names of and dosages of all the (medical) drugs he was on. Shit, if half the patients I interact with remember the names of ANY of their medications, I'm happy. Usually it's just "the purple one". He knew specifically what each of his parents died from. He was as intellectual (or more) than anyone I've ever interacted with, but because he had the title "schizophrenic heroin user" he was immediately written off.

It's these people that need the most help. If you can dramatically improve the lives of the very bottom of society, it has a greater effect than say, slightly improving the lives in the middle. If you help this man with his addiction--maybe he won't rob your Mom on the way to grocery store. Maybe he'll convince his buddy to get clean too.

I think this man's problems were more important than the man before him--who had acid reflux from eating like shit, and wanted a prescription for Cialis. And yet, the man before him got way better care.

WTF Mate?

Ok, done venting.

Hillsboro this weekend. 87 miles of pain.

Yessss....

First time I've ever seen a P/1/2 race fill up this early in the season. This usually only ever happens at big cash/prestige events--Elk Grove, Downers ProAm.

It's like that one time I sold tickets to my bedroom. 125 brazilian super-models lined up with their $50 in hand to get a piece of the prize. I made an exception and increased the field size though.

So, it's been a while. Medical School is fun, lots of work, but fun. Chicago is getting better, but the riding still sucks. I plan to do some research this summer to... FUND MY TRIP TO FRANCE IN JULY.

Only one thing going on in France in July that is worth sitting in an economy airline seat for hours and hours and hours... I'll let you all ponder what that could be. I will say, I already have at least one plan for getting my scrawny self on Versus. I'm going to try real hard to get on TV without being "That Guy". But if push comes to shove and I have to run across the Champs Elysee naked with yellow streamers in my hair and a picture of Lance tattooed on my ass.. I will do it.

Meanwhile, I'm sloooowly dragging myself back into shape. In two weeks I'll be in Bloomington. To all the people who I used to pummel at the early season races and rides: here is your chance. Pretty much everyone of you Cat 1/2 guys that I used to half wheel to death could drop me in my current form.

So, bring it. It's payback time...for you.

Attending medical school in Chicago sucks for bike riding. It ain't so good for my social life either.

That's all I have to say about that.

Word.