Anticipation

Photo by Luke Seemann

The first race of the season is only a couple days away. I can't wait. But I'll miss the off-season, at least briefly.

I suppose the beauty of the off-season lies in its limitless potential. Hope and aspiration are unburdened by the weight of reality. The anxiety and anticipation build until that first race. So many unknowns. 'Have I trained hard enough?' 'Will I be better than last year?' 'Will I win?' 'Will I get dropped?' 'Will I be overgeared in my first bunch sprint?'

On Saturday the questions will be answered. Expectations will be realigned with reality, whatever it may be. As racing season gets into full swing, fate will sort us into a natural order - most of us falling into the taller portions of the bell-shaped curve.

Come Saturday it is fully possible I will be as average as ever. And it won't matter even a little bit. Because we'll be racing - and regardless of the outcome it just doesn't get much better than that.

Hit 'n Run

Anyone who spends any time riding suburban Chicago roads can tell you that drivers are not always thrilled to see us on them. Inexplicably, it enrages some drivers to the point of violence. The other day, two friends and I were riding on Army Trail Road near St. Charles when we were nearly killed by one of these:


If it were simply negligence I wouldn't have thought much of it, as I've had near misses with careless drivers on numerous occasions (just today somebody pulled out in front of me and I had to hit the brakes hard to avoid a collision). No, this was something uglier and scarier. This was intentional.

We were hugging the side of the road and riding single-file as a car approached us from behind and honked several times. Figuring he was just announcing his presence I didn't think much of it...until he nearly clipped me as he passed - maybe 3 or 4 inches off my elbow - probably doing 40 or 50 miles-per-hour. Andy, who was riding on the front, wasn't as lucky. The SUV's side-view mirror caught him in the back and sent him sprawling, with the second rider in line quickly crashing over top of him. I veered around the chaos and skid to a stop, reeling from what had just happened. I strained in vain to make out anything of the SUV's license plate as he sped away like nothing had happened.

Thankfully, and somewhat miraculously, nobody was seriously injured. Just plenty of bumps, bruises, and the always pleasant road rash. A 911 call, fire truck, ambulance, several police cars and an hour later, we were able to finish what was left of our ride (the latter half was much less eventful). As I shared this story with a friend later that day, he relayed that he had ridden also and had been passed by a motorist giving him the finger and screaming obscenities at him - all because he was riding his bike on the road.

If I am ever killed riding my bike, please know that I died happy...but I'd still rather not.

Share the road.