Hills = good, pan flat = bad.

That semi-sentence could serve as a short but very accurate description of how my racing abilities pan out.

This past weekend, at Melon City, I was able to bring not one, not two, but three teammates from the back third of the field to the top 10-15 in one trip up the hill, in the last 10 laps of the race. The last time up, I was going so fast that I almost ran into the back of the new break that was forming, and had to hit the brakes to keep from running into the back of Rob or Ryan. I'll take that.

At Quad Cities, the furthest I moved up was roughly halfway through the field, only to get caught in a crash, bounce off the "cage", and barely make it back onto the tail end of the field.

I don't know what it is. I have the physical ability. I'm fast enough to move up and through the field. Hell, on a long enough straight (a couple blocks, really), I can just blow by half the field in one effort, even if we're going 30+. There's just some thing, probably a mental barrier, that prevents me from either seeing the gaps or taking them like some people I see, who move through the field with ease. Perhaps it's the two wicked crashes I've experienced in the last two years that have sent me to the hospital. Maybe I'm just not experienced enough yet. Whatever it is, though, I'm getting frustrated.

However, this weekend's courses, particularly Saturday's Twilight Criterium, will be good for me. The home crowd, familiar course, and the fact that it is a difficult course will hopefully help me break out of the funk I'm in at the moment.

Monsters and Madison

So the Monsters/Wheels on Willy Weekend started out well enough. John went from the gun, I covered 3 guys bridging and sat on it until we got to John, and then Josh did the same. Three guys out of 8 or 9, with one Josh Carter and one John Meyers, is like having twice that many guys, particularly in a local race like this. John can take it from a long way out, and Josh can smoke the field if it comes back together.

Well, as it turns out, people decided to stop working smoothly, efficiently, and most importantly, quickly when Josh arrived. Apparently nobody wants to drag him around, even if he's working. And, I can't say I blame them.Unless you manage to get away clean, odds are certainly against you beating him in a heads up sprint.

So, when people stopped cooperating, John, now semi-fresh, took off again, solo. Josh and I resumed our places at the rear of the chase group, although I was obligated to monitor the front to keep Clark Priebe from sneaking off with other would-be miscreants.

Eventually, we were caught by the chasing field, and it was time to block and chase. Brett, Josh, Rob and I did this well enough for John to not only stay away, but to keep pulling away for the duration of the race. Obviously John was the main factor in that, but we did a damn good job of preventing an organized chase from forming.

The last couple of laps were painful. Lots, and I mean many + Priebe, tried to take fliers. My race was effectively finished when Priebe launched a last ditch effort at the start of the last lap, and I not only caught him, but put a lot of other would-be attackers in the hurt box, simply by making them chase me down. Josh, Brett and Rob, meanwhile, were safe in the field, ready for the field sprint.

End results, John and Josh, 1st and 2nd, as Mr. Carter blew the doors off the field in the last 150m. I rolled it in for something in the mid-40s.

Madison didn't turn out so well for me. Technically, I ended up with a better result, but in terms of the work I was able to do for the team, it was a bad day. I lost a contact right when I was in a position to help, and as such, had to give ground through every corner, and fight my way back up, every time up the home stretch hill.

There were some wrecks I managed to dodge, and lap traffic (what were they still doing out there???) I was able to avoid, but otherwise, it was a pretty boring race for me. Pretty hard, but lacking in action. Sprinted home in a not-so-stellar 28th place.

John got 2nd out of the break, and Josh took 2nd in the sprint for 7th, a pretty good day. I opted out of the money, as my performance was both ineffective and not deserving of any reward. I quite literally did nothing but ride a bike in a rectangle for an hour.

Next up: Winfield Twilight. I'm going for the V in the Cat2/3 race, then working for the big boys in the Pro/1/2 race.

Damn you , tailwind.

Very, very rarely will you hear a cyclist complain about a tailwind. Matter of fact, I've never heard anyone complain about a tailwind, provided they don't ride back into a headwind.

Well, get ready for a shock, ladies and gents. History is being made as I write this.

As some of you know, I'm partial to doing group rides once or so a week, to get some sort of speed/intensity in my training. Tempo, recovery or 20min intervals can only be fun for so long, before I have to mix it up a bit. All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy; that sort of thing.

Today, I had pretty low expectations for anyone showing up to ride in a group of any sort. There was a pretty wicked looking storm rolling in from the southwest, and I can't say I blame anyone for trying to avoid that. If I had a life and something that might be more entertaining than riding my bike, I probably would have skipped it too.

But, I don't, so I didn't. I took off from Glen Ellyn at 5:20pm CST, heading in a westerly direction. Make it out of Glen Ellyn and Wheaton without swearing at a single automobile/driver. This odd twist should have told me something was amiss. I get to Winfield, aka The Hood, and stop by the house to grab a granola bar. My mom does her usual, "I think you should take the night off. It looks pretty bad out there." Which was in turn followed by my dad with, "Oh just leave him alone, Sharon."

So, I depart. Re-warm up heading out of the neighborhood, zip up the jacket due to a brisk breeze. Get to the Winfield Road/Geneva Road intersection, a T in which I can just roll right through on the sidewalk/shoulder. Strap the PT computer down, hit some buttons, and hit the gas. Felt good, felt smooth, felt fast. Get to the Prince Crossing intersection a bit...umm...ahead of schedule. Take the turn, and soon enough, I'm going 30mph...uphill. As stated previously, normally I appreciate a good hearty tailwind. Chicks dig speed and all that.

Unfortunately, there is only a certain amount of good, navigable, non-stop road around here. Usually around 18min worth. If one is doing a 20min effort, this means one would have to stop and turn around or find some other means of adding time onto the tail end. However, with a 20mph+ tailwind, your average speed rises...significantly. Particularly when you are on a personal best run (wattage-wise).

Long story short, I end up with the most powerful 14.5min of my life, with a sub-par, in comparison, 5min tacked on to the back. I've always had a hard time getting back into rhythm, and today was no exception. I then turn around again, and head in the direction of Bartlett High School for the group ride. Which no one showed up for today.

And then, it started to rain. It was a long, lonely, cold and SLOW slog back to GE, with some laps around the Lake tacked on to meet the quota for the day.

I'm ready when you are, Bike Racing Season.

Just yesterday, the Winfield/Wheaton/Glen Ellyn area experienced its first 80 degree day of the year. I.e. bike racing weather. Sunburn weather. I-need-to-remember -to-drink weather. While this may seem unremarkable to some, I find it to be piss poor. For shame, climatologists, I thought we were experiencing an upswing in global average temperatures? (Yes, I realize I'm ignoring the fact that a rolling average can include some lower-than-average points yet still be indicative of an upward trend)

In all seriousness, though, I want to start racing my bike. I want to start sleeping in economy chain hotels, I want to eat McDonalds entirely too often, and I want to go 30mph for long stretches of time. I want to grind up mountains, bomb back down them, and see the destruction behind me.

I'm particularly enthused about the prospects of XC and marathon XC MTB racing. Forcing myself to produce high amounts of power for long periods of time can do nothing but help me become a more well rounded cyclist. I know of very few races that are determined purely by your 20min w/kg average, so I'd best adapt to the rigors of longer, harder races. What better way than what essentially becomes a 2-6hr TT? I'm looking forward to the challenge.

I'm also looking forward to riding/racing with some old friends, and making some new ones along the way. Among the dudes who taught me how to ride, mainly John Meyers, Adam and Dave Stone, and even Jamie Kimberley. My mom successfully stalked/tracked Jamie down (without my knowledge) and informed him that we'll be out in his new 'hood come September for my cousin's wedding. I'll probably just be peaking at that point (terrible at timing these things) so I'll be looking to beat down some East Coast kids and drag the old man along. I'm hoping that Le Stone will be bored enough with his internship to start riding his bike to entertain himself. I'm guessing that Le Elder Stone and TSK will put a major hurt on their respective fields this year, if early season results are any indicator.

In terms of meeting new people...well, I'm hoping I won't meet any more idiots in cars. I'm down with meeting hot girls in cars, or on bikes, or in general, provided none of them try to run me off the road. I've come to the realization that since leaving college, I have quite literally met no one new that I'd hang out with or go out with. Maybe college was too easy in that regard. Maybe meeting people through classes or out at the bars eroded what little social ability I possessed in high school. Sad, but true.

So, hopefully this bike racing thing will provide some interesting diversions, and perhaps, solutions, to the various "problems" I have. Quoted, to indicate that they aren't really problems. Just dilemmas.

Bikes, cars, and the idiots who pilot each.

First and foremost, I'd like to apologize to Paul. Paul Zelewsky was hit on Jewell Road about two weeks ago, while riding solo.

Tonight, he was hit while riding with me. Not knocked over, but clipped in a noticeable manner. Now, why would I apologize for something like this? Because my actions prevented him from giving two idiots what they rightly deserved: a visit from the DuPage County Sheriff and Wheaton P.D.

Paul and I were coming back from the group ride that meets up at Bartlett High School. We had just crossed Winfield Road, right next to CDH (Central DuPage Hospital) when a horn behind us started blaring, and someone started yelling out of a window. They then proceeded to buzz us, a bit too close for comfort. Paul and I answered this with the usual "Fuck yourself!". Usually some punk teenagers will laugh this off and keep driving.

Well, the two people in the white minivan apparently took offense to this, and did not see this as an eye for an eye sort of thing. Apparently my language in exchange for their driving was not a fair trade. The driver locked up the brakes, and started yelling. Paul and I yelled right back. We then passed him, and he accelerated right into Paul's path, clipping Paul's front wheel.

Most who know me know that I'm a pretty calm, laid back individual. A little animated at times, but nothing too over the top. Well, I lost it. Death threats, curses, and descriptions of sexual preferences I'm ashamed to have used in a derogatory manner flew out of my mouth like snot has been out of my nose for the last two weeks.

At the light at County Farm and Jewell, I demanded that they get out of the car. Normally I'm pretty rational and logical. They could very well have had a gun, knife, or tire iron in that minivan. None of this crossed my mind, sadly. I just wanted to teach some bastard a lesson. Primarily, that even though I'm dressed in lycra and riding a bike, that doesn't mean that you can ASSAULT someone and expect to get away with it. Particularly if you do it intentionally, with a deadly weapon.

Well, they denied my request. They did, however, stop about 200m down the road on Jewell, just east of County Farm Road. I proceeded to get off my bike, set it down in the grass on the side of the road, and scream/explain the rules of the road to these idiots. The driver, the more aggressive of the two, said that we didn't have any right to do what we were doing. I less-than-calmly explained that yes, we did in fact have the right to ride two abreast, and that he should have passed us like he would another slow moving vehicle. Would he do the same thing to a grandmother in her car going 25mph? Would he do the same thing to two grandmothers riding Schwinns carrying puppies on bar mounted baskets? No and no.

And now, for the bad part. Well, kind of bad. They left. Unfortunately, because of the death threats that I lobbed their way during my temporary bout of instability, both Paul and I didn't think that it would be wise to call the police and/or Sheriff. The worst part about it, though, is that there are now two idiots, if not more (idiots can get married, and reproduce) who now have a less than positive opinion of cyclists.

I hope that I don't put anyone in harm's way because of my actions. Really.