Goodbye Cat 4... Hello 3s

This week I officially got my Cat 3 road license.  It was a mixture of emotions for me because it was  really something I NEVER thought I would accomplish.  It makes me reflect on the past three years and all that has happened to get to this point.

I always tell people the best thing that can happen to a person is having their bike stolen!  I know, I know WHY, you may ask... Because it gives no better reason to get a new, BETTER bike.  Who would have thought that leaving a garage door open could change your life.  Well as it would happen when my bike was stolen I replaced it with a nice new Specialized mountain bike.  While working down in Louisville, KY on a project I began to take it out on the trails at night after work.  I rode more and more and eventually started taking it on the road doing longer and longer rides.  After a summer of riding I was falling in love with the sport and decided to get a real road bike.  When I brought that first road bike home it was like no other feeling.  I thought it was just about the coolest bike in the world. 


Early bike ride in the Daniel Boone Forest in Louisville, KY

 Ironically my first ride was on a set of rollers I had bought to train inside for the winter.  Note: my old mountain bike in the corer and hairy legs!  After a few months I thought I was in great shape and would try to enter my first race...  What an eye opening experience that would be.


One of the first times on my new road bike



It was early March and the race was on the south side of Chicago in Calumet Park on the shore of Lake Michigan.  The temperature was hovering around 50 degrees, it was misting rain and the wind was blowing 20+ mph in what seemed to be coming from every direction.  I had to ask someone to pin my race number on for me, not yet realizing to take my jersey off first.  Everything I did was a new experience.  At the start my heart was racing and I was so nervous I thought I was going to pass out.  At the gun I could not clip my shoe in and was at the back of the pack in the first 20 feet.  Within two laps I was off the back and riding into that headwind all alone in last place.  I was able to NOT get lapped for about 10 minutes but after that it was all over.  I was lapped at twice by the pack and as they flew by I thought to myself... "How could ANYONE go that fast"  Eventually I finished completly exhausted.  It was dark and I was cold and wet and tired.  My race stats were as follows.  Average 19.4 mph for 35 minutes.  Average heartrate 172 bpm.  But something in my head just said, "well you're just going to have to work harder."





Early Race in 2009 Before Joining XXX



It was much of the same for a long time.   Ride more, and try not to get dropped by the pack.  Then eventually it was try to finish WITH the pack.  My goals for this year were to finish on a podium and be ranked anywhere in the IL Cup series.  Meaning to score at least 1 point.  Achieving that first goal at Glencoe this year was an unbelievable feeling.  But how do you feel when you go so far beyond your goals.  For me winning a race was not even a goal this year because I didn't think it was even possible.  Don't get my wrong I dreamed about what it would feel like and thought about it all the time but it was never "real."   



To win not once but twice this year and upgrade to Cat 3 is hard to put into perspective.  Its a little scary to be moving into a class where the riders are so fast and the field of talent is so deep.  But in another way it makes me so proud to know that I accomplished that, and I am one of those riders now.  Its been a long year and 18 races is a lot for one season and it makes me think what more can I accomplish?

Fall riding is my favorite time of year and I'm going to spend it NOT thinking about racing but just enjoying being outside, catching up with friends, and riding for fun again.  But its also a time to reflect and think about what the goals might be for next year and just how far can you push yourself?  We'll certainlly see.

After the last race of 2011

Morton Cycling Classic 9/20

If you would have asked me at 3:00 on Saturday how I felt I would have told you “terrible.”  After my run in with the car Thursday and laying new sod in the front yard Friday night I was sore beyond belief.   At the start line my legs felt like Jello and it was 97 degrees with not a cloud in the sky.  I was sweating buckets already and my Garmin computer was broken.  Needless to say I wasn’t necessarily feeling “in tune” with things going into the race Saturday.  The course was a .8 mile rectangle with wide turns and almost no grade change defiantly not the most technical of the year.

Even at the start I seemed "off".  I had trouble clipping in and by the first corner found myself at the back of the pack chasing.  However, within a couple laps I seemed to find my rhythm and moved up easily in the group and sat in.  From the start the pace seemed slow and without my computer I didn’t know exactly how fast we were going.  A few riders tried to go off the front one by one but the attacks were lazy and half hearted and the pack was able to bring them back easily.

Sitting in early in the race

The race almost seemed boring at times during the midst of it.  There were no attacks or team tactics of any kind.  A few primes spiced things up but I was not interested in those.  It wasn't until about 10 laps to go that the pace started to pick up and riders began trying to position themselves for what was sure to be a sprint finish.  I continued to ride second wheel from this point on hopping from each leaders wheel as they rode on the front conserving my energy for the sprint finish.  As the laps continued to count down I was in perfect position to mark any moves that were made.  Sure enough with 5 to go a guy attacked from just behind me.  In perfect position to respond I jumped with him and followed his wheel off the front.

Sitting second wheel with less than 10 to go

I rode his wheel as he attacked and we formed what was probably a 15 second gap.  Suddenly as I was pulling up alongside him to discuss teaming up he faded and dropped back telling me afterword he pulled a muscle in his leg.  So there I was 15 seconds up the road with no one to work with.  Decision time… do I put the hammer down and try to go solo for the remaining 4 laps?  Or drop back into the field and wait for the field sprint.  I told myself “lets see whats behind door number 1.”

I looked back and saw the field far off the distance and put the hammer down.  I rode hard but not all out.  As I came around the finish line with 3 to go I was in my own world of pain.  I did not see the fans or hear the announcer.  I made each lap its own mini race to stay away… telling myself at every lap, “on more”  when I finally reached the bell lap the gap was starting to come down.  When I looked back I could see the peloton catching me.  I told myself to hang on for one more mile.  As I made the last three corners going into the final stretch I could see the peloton rounding the last corner just seconds behind me.  It had all come down to this final sprint. 

With 30 guys trying to chase me down I sprinted with every ounce of energy I had left.  The line never seemed to get any closer…  Finally my vision sharpened up and I could see and hear everything.  I took one final look behind me and knew that I had it.  I sat up and raised my hands up for a victory salute.  However the pack wasn’t quite done sprinting yet and the line was still a few feet away. 

The field never caught me although the finish was closer than what I had expected.  As I crossed the line in first I let out the loudest shout you’ve ever heard.  The feeling was indescribable.  My break away had succeeded!!  The field had failed to get organized enough to chase me down and I had done it.  So many thoughts flooded my mind as I shifted down and did a short recovery lap.  As I came back around the fans started clapping for me and as I pulled off the course Heather came up and gave me a hug and kiss.  It felt great.  Many people at the finish had never seen a bike race before and asked questions like, “how fast do you go?” and “doesn’t your butt hurt?”.  It was so fun to answer questions and be the total center of attention for a little while.  The Peoria Journal came up and asked me some questions for the paper and even posted a picture of me online.

It was the most satisfying ride I’d ever done.  Everything Tactics, fitness and luck all combined together to give me this moment.  There is no better way to cap of the season and upgrade to Cat 3 than this.  I’m already looking forward to next year.  But first I’m going to take a little time off.

I want to give a special thanks to Corey Lyons who took all the pictures you see above.  He is clearly a very talented photographer as anyone who has ever tried to photograph a cycling event knows.  Thanks again Corey!

Anatomy of a crash

So this morning marks the second time I've been struck by a car.  Ironically this time wasn't an Asian driver but a middle aged white guy in a huge Ford F150.  I was almost to work minding my own business riding in the bike lane on Roosevelt Rd.  Today I was deep in thought about my gears... considering whether I should change my back 11/25 cassette to a 12/26.  I'm sure something many people think about on a daily basis.  As I went down the hill of the viaduct and through the green light I saw the black truck ahead.  I slowed down as I approached but at the last minute he made a sudden right turn into the bike lane turning into a repair shop that was on my right.


This is my garmin GPS data from this morning overlayed on Bing Maps

 I shouted but he did not hear me until it was to late.  I locked up my breaks and as my back tire fishtailed I turned right to try and avoid a head on collision.  I couldn't avoid him and my left side hit his truck and bounced off.  My momentum propelled me forward and I continued off to the right and into the open door of the mechanics garage.  They all jumped when I cam flying in yelling.  I came to a stop about 10' inside the building.  Amazingly still upright!!

The guy stopped his truck jumped out and ran around to inspect the potential damage to his truck.  The mechanics came up and asked if I was OK.  After determining there was minimal damage he came over to me to yell at me about how I should "watch where I'm going" and to "pay attention".  I courteously told him that it was a bike lane, and he turned without looking or signaling.  He claimed that he indeed DID signal.  So I looked over to his truck still half way through the turn and asked why it wasn't on now?  He said that it WAS on at the time.  OK good glad we got that sorted out.

Then he said that I shouldn't be riding with my headphones in.  Two points here... I always turn them off when I'm in traffic but keep them in my ears.  Second I could hear the radio blaring from his truck.  I pointed that out to him but his final comment was "F- You" before getting back into his truck and continuing into the garage. 

Its just like that Seinfeld when George thinks of the good comeback after the meeting is over.  Only after I rode off in rage did I realize what I should have done.  Just said hey lets let the cops figure it out.  DONE.  Have them come over and tell them what happened.  As I limped on towards work I daydreamed of how if I was bigger I would have pushed the guy and pummeled him to the ground.  Or fallen to the ground faining extreme neck pain.  Finally I settled on "Hey the jerk store called their running out of you!"  That's Gold.  Lets all just pretend that's what happened.

East Village Criterium 8/13



With a Cat 3 upgrade in sight I was hoping the East Village Criterium would be my last as a 4.  Boy was I wrong!  Going into the race I knew it was going to be tough.  The race was a .7 mile circuit with a 100' climb built in, not leaving much time or distance to recover.  During my warmup laps I realized the wind was coming head on directly into the downhill portion of the course.  I noted that it would make the short recovery period even shorter but I had no idea just how decisive that downhill portion would be.



At the starting line my whole family was there to cheer me on.  My little niece kept saying “on your marks, get set, GO!” it was so cute.  At the gun I had a great start and settled into third wheel easily.  Right away a rider went up the road solo. I had him marked thanks to a helpful tip from a friend, and since no one else wanted to do any work I chased him down (photo).  It took three laps or so for the field to come back together and I was tired after the effort.  I settled into 10th wheel or so to recover.  This turned out to the be the decisive mistake of the race.  A few laps later on the downhill the pace picked up.  In front of me a group of about 12 riders developed a gap.  The riders in front of me failed to close it and a 6 second gap formed.  Shortly later the gap grew to 10 seconds.  By the time I realized what was happening it was to late.  I tried to make the bridge but the group was working really well together and riding fast.  After bringing the gap down to about half I looked to the rider on my left and asked him to finish it off.  He said no and dropped back onto my wheel. 

No one was willing to do any work.  I chased solo with the whole peloton in tow for the remaining 10 laps.  The gap stayed about the same but with about 3 laps remaining they pulled away and I was exhausted.  At the end a few of the riders who had been on my wheel the whole race started to attack me.  No way I said to myself.  On the final climb towards the finish I hit the gas and accelerated.  I didn’t even get out of the saddle and rode them off my wheel.  Coming down the final straight I glanced back and saw no one there.  It was satisfying to know I finished strong even though I was hugely disappointed. 

Chasing down the solo breakaway

It was great to see my whole family afterwords and be talk about the race.  I was disappointed in the result but hardly disappointed in my performance.  It was a good ride and defiantly a challenge.  I look forward to coming back and doing it again next year.

Dad and Lemmy (Kara on the right)

Superweek 2011 Wrap-Up Part 3

Not knowing how long it would take me to get to the race venue I left quite early in the morning to get to the south side in time.  Arriving 2 hours early I was able to drive most of the course prior to the race and linger around talking to other riders about what was to come.  During this down time I got to talking with a pro rider about the course.  He gave me some advice about how to tackle the hilltop finish and encouraged me on getting my first win.  He laughed when I told him about my recent third and fourth place finishes, and said “oh yeah that first place... it’s elusive.”  I put those thoughts aside and went over and over in my mind how the final climb would go.

The course was a 3 mile circuit through a forest preserve with a large climb just before the finish line.  The climb goes in three sections each with varying degrees of length and grade.  At the top there is a short 50m flat before the finish line.  The course was perfect for my riding style and I knew it.  I surveyed the riders at the start line and identified those to mark from the previous two races.



The race started neutral because the start line was in a different place from the finish.  We rode neutral, climbed the large hill and rode over the finish line to officially start the race.  Right from the start the pace was blistering.  We flew down the backstretch of 95th st and the slight undulations before descending into the river bottom of Archer Ave. where we flew along the flat for about a mile before hitting the climb just after the start line.  We would do this circuit only 4 times due to the shorted race schedule because of the previous crash.  Riders were making aggressive moves off the front and a few fliers went off but nothing stuck.  The peloton was moving much to fast. 



Putting on the winners jersey



With one lap to go and my heart rate soaring we flew along the flat moving closer towards the final decisive climb.  At the base riders attacked from all sides.  I stayed in the saddle and followed their wheels up the first section. Here many started fading and I was able to power my way forward in the peloton to the second section.  The top riders pace quickened as they desperately tried to get to the front.  Taking the pros advice I waited patiently and stayed to the far left of the road.  Rounding the final corner the third section is a massive wall staring straight at you.  Here all the riders attacked.  But I didn’t...  I kept to the left and followed wheels until half way up the climb.  That's where I made my move.  I jumped out of the saddle and uncorked every bit of power I had left.  I flew by the fading riders like they were standing still.  Just before the top of the hill I passed the second place rider and could see the leader in my peripheral on the right.  I kept sprinting and as he dropped back out of sight one thought clearly ran through my head.  “oh my gosh I’m in first” 

Doesn't get any better than this!

I remember seeing clear road in front of me which was weird because there is almost always someone in front of you in a race.  On the short flat section just before the finish I could see a guy gaining a little ground and I dug deeper with everything I had to maintain the lead.  In what seemed like only a split second the line appeared and was gone.  I did it, I had won!!  In my mind I couldn’t really believe what just happened.  There was no post up or celebration and all the images I had of what it would be like to win were completely gone.  The only thing I felt was complete and utter exhaustion.  I shifted into my lowest gear and looked down at my heart rate...  194.  My head instantly exploded with the worst headache I have ever had and I struggled to stay upright and bring my body back into reality.  Finally after about 5 minutes of soft pedaling I rounded the corner and arrived back at the start.  The pro rider was there and he was asked me how I did.  I held up one finger and smiled.  He gave me a huge high five and congratulated me.  The full race data can be found here.

Final Results

I sat around and chatted with the other riders about the race.  They all wanted to know who won because I had snuck up on the left and blew by them so quick that not many had seen me.  After soaking in the congratulations for what seemed like an hour.  I went back to the car and changed out of my shoes and went up for the podium presentation.  Unfortunately there was no podium but that made no difference to me.  All I wanted was to put on that winners jersey.  When the sponsor came up and announced my name and put on the winners jersey he whispered that it was a size extra-small.  Really!?  But there was no way I wasn't putting it on.  I zipped it up and held my hands up high.   It was the most rewarding moment in my life.  I picked up my check and headed for home.  In the car on the way out I let out a yell and pounded my fists on the steering wheel.  For the next three days I slept with that jersey by my bed.