The Fog of War

Often, bike racing is compared to war. And the similarities are real: In both, bodies become mangled, men and women lose all respect for health and decency, and one’s true character is revealed through the juxtaposition of misery and ecstasy. There is no hiding from yourself at the conclusion of a stage race in a foreign country. Similarly, there is no denying your identity after a tour of duty.

Sadly, the comparison has become cliched. As Orwell would say, it has lost its utility. Yes, we know bike racing is tough. But war, I would think, is far tougher. Between an IED and a pothole, I know of no one who would choose the latter.

Despite this, I could not help but thinking in terms of conflict as I lined up to start the Fat & Skinny Tire Festival Cat 3 RR (FS). When Will and I exchanged hugs and salutations on the start-line, I imagined myself being waved off, departing on some large ship for Europe or the East. I knew I had six laps (what, six months?) ahead of me. Oddly, I really didn’t care to win, but I didn’t really feel like losing. Vietnam War redux, anyone?

In all seriousness, USCF racing teaches the glory of collegiate racing. The rain soaked regionals at Purdue where I crashed and missed the break on alternating days was far more satisfying than my victory at the FS. Why?

Well, it all begins with the drive. Heading to a collegiate race begins with running late, stuffing far too many bodies and bikes into far too few cars; heading off with the music blasting and the camera’s flash firing (unless it’s my camera).

Then there’s the hotel–at which we arrive no earlier than 2 a.m. We sleep two or three to a bed. We have no Maginot Line, we have “protection pillows.” And we wake up at 5 a.m. Sleep—screw that.

As we eat the invariably shitty complimentary breakfast and watch both the rain and mercury fall, we laugh. Loading the cars, we scream and bicker—all in love.

And then the racing. Our D-Graders go first. And we cheer. But this isn’t the tame USCF “Go, Jared, go” cheering. This is Scott dressed in a frumpy one-piece swimsuit, wearing pink tights, jumping up and down, screaming “attack, Redbeard, attack,” thrashing his head and throwing objects into the field—in torrential downpour.

Following the D-Graders and the womens, we race. And As racing is what real racing should be. At it’s best, it’s fast, hard, and safe. There is no BS. Everyone knows each other and the pain flows as freely as the love. Watch Brandt bunny hop a mailbox, listen to the gravel as TK rides on the opposite lane's shoulder, see Spider Monkey attack through the ditch after missing his start... it’s all good.

After the race, some disaster warrants a WallMart run. But we procrastinate: Snack (at Panera), shower (all at once, naturally), eat dinner (at some crappy Italian place) and then head to the Arkansas cancer hub. Invariably, we’ll run into another team playing WallMart bingo. We’ll converse for a bit, buy our supplies and then head home to pow-wow and enjoy a few short hours of sweaty sleep.

When we wake, Saturday repeats itself—except in better dress and with far more insanity. Generally, we break into the Marian Bus (the Death Star), fraternize with the officials (we love you, Andrew) and pester the other riders. It’s all part of the grand plan. (This does not even include—for lack of space and out of deep respect—the drive home or interacting with Sinead.)

So compare this to USCF racing. You wake up—in your own bed. You drive to the race—all solemn and lonely. You cheer on your teammate—and get yelled at for actually showing emotion. The racing is boring—people obey the yellow line. You win (or lose). You drive home—usually richer, but depressed.

Is there any wonder that I’m crying to close the collegiate season?

Rosie

Searching for Indiana

At 2:30 PM today, Nate Harner and I (Joe Hooker) met at Kellogg to go on a ride together. Seeing as no one else came for our Ft. Sheridan ride, we decided whimsically to ride into Chicago via the Lakefront Trail. While we were headed south on Sheridan Road to get to the trail, a lady swings her car in front of us without looking. Nate confronts the lady at the next light, and she apologizes. Hopefully she'll be more cautious next time.

We get to the trail. 5 minute pulls each at a moderately brisk pace. The wind forces us into an echelon-esque formation as we traverse The Windy City. We arrive at the golf course south of the city - the very same place where we rode to and turned around a few weeks ago. This time, we decided to venture forth.

I asked a man approaching us on his bike if there is a good road to get to Indiana. He pointed to the road in front of us and said that it had a great bike lane and it led to a trail that goes to Indiana. The bike lane was lined with potholes, forcing us into the car lane, and the bike path was across an impassable drawbridge.

So with the help of the iPhone, we improvised. Immediately, we decided I90 wasn't the best road to take. An apple and a Clif bar later, we decided on a road going in the same direction as the highway. After a few miles, we ended up on a mainstream road that ran below and to the side of I90. Ahead, we spotted a Welcome to Indiana side. We needed a picture (i.e. evidence of our trip), so we pulled into the parking lot of KFC.

Before going over to the sign, I went into KFC to fill up our water bottles. I open the door to laughter that awkwardly stops as soon as I step in. I guess a purple polka-dotted cycling kit is a little out of place in South Chicago... I fill the bottles up with ice and water and flaunted my school colors on the way out.

Nate and I make our way over to the Welcome to Indiana sign:

Standing in front of the sign was more than a photo op - we realized just how far away from campus we really were. We made it to another state. At this point, we talked about riding up to Wisconsin some day soon. After adequately relishing in the moment, we decided it was time to head back.

Following signs to the Lakefront Trail, we ended up on a rock trail lined with shattered glass and adjacent to train tracks. "Cyclocross practice," we thought aloud. The collective two tubes that we brought now didn't seem to be enough. Surely we would each get multiple flats on this surface. Somehow, our tires prevailed.

We got back onto the Lakefront Trail, where we again exchanged pulls, dodging all of the obstacles on the overcrowded trail: bikers, runners, rollerbladers, walkers, carriages, etc. At this point, we decided to stop at Navy Pier for some food. We both got tuna salad sandwiches from a Deli shop at the Navy Pier food court. Tasty and filling on the spot, but queasy and regretful for the remaining 12 miles of our ride.

We eventually got back to campus. 65 miles, 3 hours & 20 minutes, and a great ride.

Circuit of Sauk

Cross post from my xXx report:

4/5 racing may be the lowest category at most road races, but that by no means makes it easy. Going into the Circuit of Sauk, I’d been racing collegiate for 2 months and seen my form develop as I ascended from Cat C (4) to B (3/4) and finally the last four race weekends where I raced in the A category (1/2/3). I was one of only 2 Cat 4 riders in the A field, but managed to finish 18th-40th in fields of about 60. During the races I was able to mark attacks and get in breakaways and never felt in danger of being dropped. Naturally, mixing it up with the caliber of riders in the A fields gave me a tremendous amount of confidence going into my first USAC race of the season today.

xXx had a good contingent on the start line with Matt, Patrick and William, but we didn’t really talk about a team strategy for the day (it’s hard when you’re not sure how strong everyone is). Ultimately, the Circuit of Sauk is fairly straightforward. Don’t get dropped on the climb and protect yourself well in the crosswinds. You have to stay as far to the front as possible not to get caught behind fading riders. Just my luck, I see a neon jersey roll up right before the start. It’s Tony Damhoff, the other Cat 4 in collegiate A, and he’s stronger than I am on the hills (F!). We banter a bit before the neutral roll out and I introduce the field to his collegiate nickname, the swamp monster (he crashed into a mud pit and rode the remainder of the race covered in mud).

The race official explained that we’d be neutral until the first corner before the climb, but Tony apparently didn’t hear that and attacked the roll out. There was a lot of head scratching in the field and for some reason the pace car driver sped up to 35. I tried to yell at Tony, but he was too far away by that point, so I let the field know that I’d bridge and tell him to come back. I got within shouting distance a few hundred meters from the corner, so that was a nice waste of energy before the climb.

With the field together, I hit the first ascent second wheel but was quickly swarmed by Tony and a few remarkably strong riders. I battled to maintain contact over the top and thought to myself, “what is going on?!?”. Climbing isn’t really my thing, but I figured that I had most of the field out-gunned. At this point, I had to adjust my plan and opt for a more conservative race of marking wheels and staying out of the wind instead of attacking the second, smaller climb as I had planned (boring). As it turns out, there were some really good descenders in that field as well, so I bet on a bunch sprint at the end regardless.

True to form, about 1/3 of the original field came to the line together. I got boxed in for the start of the sprint by some questionable yellow line riding, but at 200m to go the road opened up and I started picking off riders. Damhoff led a train of people up the right side, but neither of his two followers could come around his sprint. I was closing hard on them, but ran out of space before I could throw the 3rd place guy on the line. If the swamp monster had stayed home, I think I might have taken the sprint, but that’s bike racing.

4th place netted me my entry fee and it came with a big helping of knowledge. 4/5 racing is not much slower than 3 racing, which is not much slower than 1/2 racing. I’d been racing with 1’s and 2’s for a month, but still could not control the race. It’s never a good idea to roll up to a start thinking that you’re a sure thing because there will always be other sandbaggers out to eat your lunch. It’s unfortunate that it works like this because it creates a sizable barrier to overcome for newcomers to the sport. I’d imagine that almost every person in that field was seriously training 4-5 days/week. It might be worth making a cat 6 with races that are prize-less and cheaper to enter so that people don’t get discouraged by being destroyed in races like the one yesterday (you could also have a one-and-done, win=upgrade to 5 policy to ensure that everyone has a shot). I’m moving up to 3 after Snake Alley later this month, but hopefully I’ll be able to get a win before that happens.

Michigan Massacre Part D

With the season coming to an end the Michigan was the last chance to improve the team’s ranking before regionals. 11 points ahead of 6th and 44 points behind 4th meant it every race, every result, was going to matter.

Since my background is mountain biking I was excited to race on some dirt. Upon seeing it wasn’t single track, wasn’t a fire road, but a wide smooth road dashed by enthusiasm. I decided to stick to my standard habit and stick to the front, launch one attack to see how everyone attacks and see if I can cause pain. Nothing much seemed to be happening so I relaxed expecting a large field sprint. But as I relaxed going into the last lap, the pace picked up, I was gaped. Looking behind I realized there was no one. I hadn’t just been gaped but flat out dropped. It was time to dig deep and redeem myself. Gradually I brought myself forward, jumping from wheel to wheel as Tommy dropped them from his little group. It’s painful to see the peloton ahead and know that it’s just out of reach and then to see two more of your teammates fall off is heartbreaking. But you make the best of what you’re given. Tommy and I collected Nate and Taylor along with an IIT guy who was sticking with us. I tried to get an echelon going but IIT was refusing to work with it so I said screw it and jumped to try and drop him but sadly we only dropped Tommy. Taylor made sure I was awake as he nearly misses the last turn. IIT and I ride to the line together where I out “sprinted” him. Looking back, with 4 on 1, we should have just boxed him in at the line. My mental game is what I learned needed improvement.

My mental game was what I wanted to focus on Sunday at the crit but warming up it all felt wrong. The weather was cold, my legs were sore and the team needed every point I could earn. I decided to go for the prems and get as many points as I could before falling off the back. However something strange happened, after winning the first prem I felt great. I hadn’t felt so good in a race in a long time (never mind how long it had been since my last race). It was time to sit in and come up with a plan to win. Our team had 7 people in the race but there was no formal strategy, simply a goal to ride together. Going into the second to last lap 6 sets of polka dots appeared on the front. 6 teammates all together in total control. You could feel the panic from all the other schools stuck behind. I shouted for an attack and began a surge of my own. In front with Brad we built a small gap from the field as I pulled him through the lap. Unfortunately Brad didn’t have the strength to pull through the bell lap and we were caught but the rest of the team was still in good position. A counter attack saw a group of five get ahead, including Tommy. It was time for me to be defensive and just mark. A Serotta began to chase and I sat on his wheel. Looking up I could see Tommy sprinting, clearly winning, so it was time for me to sprint too and make up a few places. Surprise surprise 4th, and only about half a wheel from 3rd! Northwestern D men finished with 3 in the top 5, 5 in the 10 ten!

Best personal results of the season and best D team results of the season was the perfect way to cap off a fun weekend with 21 fantastic people. Setting up for a strong show at Purdue Regionals.

"It's not really a nice feeling..."

So, one might ask, what the hell happened to me?

First, for an appropriate analogy, more or less, watch this video:

http://www.cervelo.com/en_us/testteam/video-documentary/

Basically, I echo all of Haussler's sentiments.

For those unaware, I have injured my IT band and haven't been able to race since the DePauw race weekend four weeks ago. I originally agitated my leg at the Lindsey Wilson road race. Even though I was able to win the time trial; that effort, combined with nearly 80 miles in the hills, was simply more than my legs, being only accustomed to the flats of Evanston up to that point, could take. I made the break in the next day's crit, but my leg was already beginning to act up, even then. I tried to ride early in that week, but my knee hurt, so I rested and stretched, and assumed I would be good to go at the Depauw road race. I wasn't, and the 50 mile race in 40 degree rain really did my leg in, and I was in a lot of pain after the race. I skipped the next day's crit and took that week off the bike. In the meantime, I saw the doctor, who gave me some stretching and strengthening exercises.

The next week was our spring break trip, and I wasn't going to let anything stop me from riding. Sadly, I wasn't able to kill it with Scott and Ian, but instead was resigned to riding by myself or with Axie and Hannah, who were also injured at the time. When we returned to campus to start the spring term, my leg was better, but still not ready for any hard efforts, so I again took a whole week off. Since that time, I have been riding, but only as hard as my leg will allow. I was upset to have to miss Marian and then again miss racing at Hillsboro/ OSU this weekend.

My leg is improving, but it is taking much longer than I would have liked. It is a pretty frustrating injury, on many levels. When I ride, I can spin lightly, but the pain starts up if I really try to hammer down with my left leg. I keep hoping that I will get on the bike and be able to ride as I usually would, pounding on the pedals and going (somewhat) fast, but this hasn't happened yet. In addition, after so much time off, even if I am able to come back, my goal of performing well at collegiate nationals has been derailed, as I don't think it is possible for me to regain nearly the form I would need by then. And lastly, as Heinrich says, "I miss being out there, with the guys..." It's not fun to miss racing with a team that I take ownership in, having seen almost all of our riders start out as complete beginners, and progress to the point that they are at now. I miss watching them race, and hanging out with everybody before and after the races. I also miss racing, and riding hard and fast, and just partaking in the friendly banter of the Men's A field.

I know when we are at races every weekend, we often wonder why we do it. When we wake up at 5 A.M. to go sit in the cold rain, we think, why don't we just stop racing, and just become normal? Sleep in on the weekends, and not punish ourselves with this crazy bike racing stuff?

Well, having done that for two weeks, I can safely say that I don't like the "normal life". When I woke up at 9 AM today and got a text telling me that Tommy won the Men's D race (!), I was super stoked for Tommy, and the team, and also extremely upset that I wasn't there to be a part of it.

Anyways, I hope to be back out racing as soon as possible, and I'm trying everything in my power to get better. If anyone has any tips or suggestions with how to deal with this injury, please let me know. After all of this time off, I just want to get healthy and fast again.

I will end with a Haussler quote:

"I just wanna come back next year and absolutely kill 'em, and that's what I'm gonna do."

My Season So Far, Part 1

Well, I figured I should post up some bloggification on my race season so far. I'll devide it into two parts, to make it easier to read.

Murray State, er, Hayward, WI

While most of the team traveled a long ways South to Kentucky, I instead held out for the last bits of winter, and headed North. Hayward, WI is home to the American Birkebeiner, the largest cross country ski race in North America with over 7,500 participants. I got up there midday Thursday, and had a couple of days to actually get back to the feel of skiing on snow before the race.

The race itself is a 50K, which is a bit more than a standard running marathon. With no ski specific training to speak of for two months leading up to the event, I was mainly hoping to finish coherent enough to enjoy some brats (the greatest part of Wisconsin) after the race.

Starting off flat, the race soon kicks uphill with a 5K climbing section known as The Powerlines. I was mainly trying not to blow up at this point, but in looking down at my watch at the 10K point, I saw I was on pace for 3 hours, which would be a great result. The next 30K were kind of a blur, and at 40K I was still roughly on pace. However, my legs decided to be a bit uncooperative, and the last 10K were a grind, with 7K of climbing (including an infamous hill full of hecklers) and 2K across a lake into a headwind.

The best part of the race is that it finishes on the streets of Downtown Hayward. Everyone comes out to cheer, and it really gives you a boost of energy (that, along with the shot of Jager I grabbed from a spectator at the beginning of the lake). I finished in a respectable time, got my stuff, and went to find some brats. Fortunately, an enterprising group had set up a brat stand directly across from the changing area, so I didn't have to wait long.

But I didn't forget about the team, and rocked the whole way in my purple polka dots:

I even got a few "Go Northwestern!"s, which I think was more due to my hat.

Lindsey Wilson

So after my journey to the Northwoods, I was excited to get back on my bike and actually get out bike racing. The next race was Lindsey Wilson, and with the Blue Raider Omnium competition, I was hoping for a good result.

Saturday started off with a 10K TT, which I was confident in. However, my race was basically over before it began, as I was unable to get my left foot clipped in at the start. Since I was fumbling with this, rather than making sure I was in the proper gear, I lost even more time trying to push a large gear from the start. I did get my right foot clipped in, but still couldn't get my left. Given a choice of spending a lot of time getting it in or continuing on without full use of my power, I opted for the later, hoping that the time penalties would be less severe.

Will and Scott, on there aero machines, eventually passed me, which was expected. At this point, I was cursing USAC for there incredibly stupid ban on aero equipment for non-A riders. At least let us have clip on aero bars! They are cheap, and make it a heck of a lot safer when trying to get into an aero position on a road bike [/rant].

I wound up 10/18, which I was upset with. Upset mainly at myself, for not properly lubing my Speedplay cleats and causing myself to lose time. Let that be a lesson kids: Always do the routine bike maintenance!

The road race was next, and cautious of another cleat episode, I made sure I was clipped on on the left well before the start. However, as overzealous as the D's pack was to get going, we nearly forgot to let the Women's A follow car through. This resulted in my being towards the back of the pack at the start, definitely not a good place to be. I had to wait until the first big climb to work my way to the main pack, which I was only able to catch the back of thanks to the yellow line rule. Fortunately, the pack wasn't accelerating too much, so I didn't have to do a lot of needless yo-yoing.

Things were looking good, until a small rise before the final climb. In a moment of inattentiveness, I came off the back of the pack, and watched as a 5m gap turned into 10m, which turned into 20. I knew my chances of winning were done, but I still wanted to do a good final climb, which I managed to, even passing the Women's A follow car ahead of me. At the top of the climb, I saw what I thought were two NU riders just ahead of me (it turned out to be Taylor and a Butler rider), and I went into attack mode to try and catch them before the line.

Ka-chunk!

Rats, my gears jammed up upon doing this. Fortunately, I was able to right my wrong before anyone else caught me, but I ended up having to solo in to the finish.

Now throughly out of the omnium, I wanted to use the Sunday crit as a training ride, mainly since I hate crits. The course suited me fairly well, with its one short steep climb. However, I didn't quite have the gusto to stay with the main group, but Red Beard and I got together just behind them, eating up anyone shot out of the back of the pack like a pair of hungry alligators. I would pass RB on the climb, and lead through the next 2 corners, where he would take over on the backstretch. I thought I had him in the final sprint, until I looked and saw him on my wheel. I let up, letting him place ahead of me due to all the hard work he had done.

Overall, a good weekend was had at the Dreamland Motel. I think I'm finally over the incredible smallness of the rooms.

Look for Part 2 coming soon!

Southern Illinois University Team Time Trial

We had fun. Bottom line. Will was happy that his dream for the past four years was finally coming true. He wanted to have a big team with dedicated riders who were putting team aspirations over personal priorities. He wanted a team of good friends who had fun. We had fun making ourselves look funny, and not taking anything too seriously. I wanted to wear my KONA jersey for the TTT, but I had to take it off, and deal with just riding on my mountain bike.

Wait, mountain bike?! TTT? What was I thinking?! Lets backtrack a little. Last Tuesday on spring break, before our morning ride, Nick noticed a crack in my seat stay on my road bike. A crack, that upon further examination, enlarged when flexed. I decided that even though I had probably ridden it for at least the day before, I didn't want to ride it that day. Just the day before, I had put my mountain bike together, enhancing the flat pedals with some longer 2mm pegs for better traction, and a new super heavy-duty rear tire. So, I decided to put the road bike away, and ride the mountain bike. I put in 45 miles on the mountain bike that day, keeping pace with some of my teammates. I rode Wednesday and Thursday on my mountain bike as well, and then we got some slicks to put on for the races on the weekend. But I put my bike on the back of a car with hot unfiltered exhaust, and the front tire had a melted hole straight through the tire and tube when we pulled into the hotel on Friday night. I had to throw out the melted front tire, and then swap out the rear slick to the front wheel, and then mount up my least knobby mountain bike tire for the rear. UGH.

So, Saturday morning, I was riding around on my mountain bike, with my Carhartts and Kona jersey on, looking like I was just having fun, but really getting used to the new feel of my mountain bike. When we lined up for the TTT, people asked us if I was really riding it in the race. I was. We weren't going for the win. We were going for fun, and for points.

Will, Tommy and I lined up for the start, and watched our other A team and our Womens A ride off. A Lindenwood team rode off, we waited a minute, and then rolled out slowly. Will led us most of the way for our 14 mile time trial, and the team behind us didn't catch us til a mile and half. The Marian team caught us a little later. We had a nice time, going along around 15mph or so, went up the long hill, and then around the turn around, where we noticed another Lindenwood A team on our tail. They passed us at the top of the hill, but we kept pace with them on the downhill and the flat following the bottom of the hill. I was spinning really fast, with my 44:12 gearing. According to Tommmy, we hit 36.5; much faster than I expected. We had some nice conversation on the return trip, slowed for a flatted-out Lindenwood rider, who was fine, and kept on for the finish. We rode across the finish three abreast, which was fun, and although we were last, it had only been about 45 mins, which was faster than we had thought it might have been.

"That was what I wanted us to be like. And thats what we were like. It was awesome. " ~ Will Nowak, President