1/2, 3, Go

Photo by John Glass

9.26/9.27.09 Fall Fling Criterium and Road Race (ABR)
Cat. 3 / 8th and 6th, respectively (if not respectably)

Criterium:
Smaller fields meant that Categories 1, 2, and 3 would be combined, which in turn meant that I was hoping no 1's and 2's would show up. No such luck. Rolling up to the start line next to guys I've been watching in awe for the past couple years was a bit surreal and slightly intimidating. Nevertheless, while I can't hold a candle to them, I have to admit it felt pretty cool lining up with some of the All-Stars from Geargrinder and ABD (you know, the guys whose names appear in bold print on Chicago Bike Racing all season long). I wonder if it's poor form to ask for autographs in the middle of a race? I relished the moment because I was confident (and quickly proven correct) that I would not be racing with some of them for very long. The race itself wasn't overly compelling, especially for me. I sat in and did my best to go as fast as everyone around me, knowing full well that any time spent chasing or attempting breakaways might result in me going down in a blaze of glory (or a pathetic fizzle, depending on how dramatically you like to consider such things). So I conserved as much energy as possible for the sprint, hoping that would finally be my time to shine. It wasn't. I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure you're supposed to go faster during the sprint - not the other way around. I wish I had a better excuse than just sheer mediocrity to account for my average finish, but I can't think of a good one.

Road Race:
The State Road Race Championship a couple weeks ago was 50 miles and it nearly killed me. This one was 60 miles with another combined 1/2 and 3 field, so it wasn't at all difficult hiding my excitement. After the first few laps I had the conscious thought that 'if this pace continues, there is no possible chance I am going to be finishing this race.' Fortunately, after the breaks were established and gone, our group (3rd group/14 or so riders) settled into a more agreeable (and perhaps even sustainable?) pace. Predictably, right around the 50 mile point my legs started wanting to cramp, adding a touch of agony to an already grueling day. My thought at that point, however, was 'well at least I'll only have a few miles to ride by myself when these guys start winding things up for the last lap,' recognizing that I had little left except the simple determination to finish. Thankfully, I was able to fend off cramps and survive to the end with the group, which had slowly dwindled to 6 or 7. I couldn't help but wonder if the unusually slow and cordial finish was a show of camaraderie or simply a display of pure exhaustion. Judging by appearances afterward, it was a tough day for most.

Side Note:
Throwing my empty water bottle was a trivial but meaningful highlight of the road race. I mean, really, is there anything more PRO than tossing an empty bottle to the side of the road? Again, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure there is some sort of transcendent transformation that takes place once you've done this - an arrival of sorts as a true bike racer. The only difference, I suppose, is that when pros do it they probably aren't thinking, "Man I hope nobody walks off with that bottle, I really need that back..."