Carpentersville Cross

My legs had been flat all week but I showed up nonetheless to see what would happen.

The course, unfortunately, was my least favorite I've ridden this year.
- It was lumpy as hell with bumps long enough to jostle me throughout the race and cause my lower back serious angst.
- Points for trying something new, but the rhythm section just smacked of the course designers trying too hard.
- The second creek crossing had one line through it which was rideable. I missed that one tire width patch by about six inches once and kissed the dirt. This is me being nitpicky and bitter.



My head wasn't in this race, nor were my legs. Which precipitated the other is a chicken or egg mind game, but either way it didn't add up.

After a quintessentially okay sprint to the first turn where I lost the usual few spots, things were looking okay. The field was about 40 deep and I was well into the top half. Things never really improved from there. By the third lap, when I am normally digging into people ahead of me and making a push, the opposite was happening. I was going backwards. I know at least three people passed me, maybe more, and I finished 18th.

Not what I had wanted. My bike handling needs to improve: laying off the brakes, weight distribution, all of it.

Nice Face

Here's an excellent picture from Grafton.



Thanks to Ms. Chloe Ries for the picture.

Cyclocross Double

Grafton Pumpkin Cross - Saturday

What happens when you take two Floridians and a Californian, transplant them to the Midwest and they decide to race bikes in October? We complain about how effing cold it is. Granted, high 30s with wind is nothing unusual, but my panties were totally in a wad.

The course was excellent with a little of everything including a brief sandpit and a sledding hill. The long uphill that was just shallow enough to ride but really put the suffer on. I'd never raced through a sandpit before but after preriding the course a couple times I felt comfortable enough with it. The sand was loose, and I saw more than one person wash out and take in a mouthful, but if you chose the right line you could roll straight through without more than a couple pedal strokes.



I had an excellent spot right on the front line for the start, and I was eager for the race to begin because shivering just wasn't fun. The whistle blew and I was riding comfortably with the lead group through the first lap. The first two minutes of a 'cross race is where my game could use some serious improvement, I'm just not accustomed yet to the sprint like hell from the gun.
Going up the hill I was surprised at how well I was able to hang on, even make up some ground at times. Even better though was that I was recovering faster than the competition just after the hill and had enough in me to make up more ground or put more distance on someone.

Throughout the whole race the cheering up the hill was spectacular. While I was largely focused about a foot in front of my handlebars grinding away, the din of cowbells and screaming was awesome.



Through two laps the front of the race was still largely together and I was feeling great. The third lap though in one of the 180 turns before the hill I went over an exposed tree root and my front wheel washed out. I picked myself up as fast as I could, put my chain back on but spent much of the rest of the race chasing back the places I had lost.

I could see Henry and Cale just fifteen seconds ahead so I knew I was still in contention for a good placing and this helped keep me going. There was some snow midway through the race which was an added bit of atmosphere. I kept plugging away, fighting to eventually pass and hold off a trio of riders including a rider on a singlespeed Vanilla who absolutely schooled me at Sun Prairie.

Finished a very satisfying 8th out of about 40 something.

Photos by Katy of Team Pegasus

Dan Ryan Woods - Sunday

I want a mulligan for this race.

Another solid course with two punishing uphills and some ohmygod I'm gonna eatshitanddie downhills. During warmups I felt remarkably good considering I had a solid case of the pursuiter's cough after yesterday's beatdown.

I promptly squandered my second row starting position by putting a toe spike into my pedal instead of the cleat. Instant relegation to the cluster f of stop and go traffic near the back. The first corners at speed revealed my next error. I had gotten a little too fresh with my tire pressure, it was woefully deficient, and I was losing the back end through every corner and bump in the road. Good practice at controlled skidding if anything.

This hampered any effort at making up ground because every turn had to be taken extra slow and my exit lines were horrible. On the second to last lap I finally admitted defeat and stopped to put more air in. In hindsight I should have done this earlier. Lesson learned.

Finished 29th out of about 40 something.

Jackson Park Cyclocross

Cyclocross is hard work.

After the day before at the Ronald Reagan Crit I wasn't expecting much. Many people had been telling me I should try out 'cross so I finally threw down on a bike and decided to give it a shot for fun. The two phrases I've heard to describe 'cross that rang most true after the race were "Reverse Crit" and "Offroad Time Trial."

Reverse Crit - There's a reason people sprint from the gun. I was lined up at the back and nowhere near the top ten through the first turn. The first lap through the baseball diamond was a mess near the back where I was and after a super poor remount things weren't looking so hot.



Offroad Time Trial - After the first lap, people were largely strung out across the course, it became less about dodging riders and more about suffering and offroad bike handling. I'm good at one of those things. The numerous tight turns cut down on my ability to make up ground on the people ahead of me. By the end of the day I finished mid 30s, which I'm okay with. I'll definitely be back for more.



Photos courtesy of Gavin Gould.

Ronald Reagan Criterium

Looking at the prereg list I wasn't expecting too much from this race. With the road season just about over, Pat and I have already transitioned my training, very broadly, away from a focus on intensity and more towards volume. Putting these two together I decided to do an hour of tempo in the morning for that extra TSS.

That extra work quickly turned around on me to not be the greatest idea ever. As I was getting my bike ready I saw Chad Hartley and Rob White of Gear Grinder rolling around. Oooooh, now it's gonna be on. Then I heard the announcer, "And local pro Bryce Mead of Jelly Belly will be making an appearance today in our last race of the day." OOooooooh, now it's really gonna be on. So much for an “easy” race.

The first two laps were nothing special as I made my way to the front, then it was open warfare on the road and this is where my memory becomes fuzzy. A break of seven started to form and I saw all of the big names there: Hartley, White, Mead, Erik Tomlinson (Mercy-Specialized?) and Alex Bowden (Team Type 1).



I joined them, but apparently Hartley and White (hereafter H & W) weren't happy with the size of the break because they continued to attack. Within another lap or two it was down to just H&W, Mead and myself. Hey, now this is cool. This break definitely wasn't for want of firepower.



We worked together well and our gap on the field continued to grow. When it became apparent we were about to lap the field, H & W brought the attacks again to get at least one of them back into the field for an easy ride home. Mead and myself covered the first few with the field at a max of 20 seconds ahead of us. I was caught out on another attack and couldn't close the gap. The other two came around me and I was gapped in no man's land.




With all of our attacks we were almost on top of the field and the trio easily rejoined the field to lap them.

At this point, joining the pack I knew I only had a few laps to try and do the same before they got to the front to attack again which would drive up the pace and distance me even further. Unfortunately, I was hurting badly by this point, only 25 minutes into the 70 minute race and I wasn't able to make up the 10 to 15 second gap to the field. Very frustrating and very painful. I took down a gel and it almost came right back up as I dry heaved a couple times.

I was in fourth place and I knew that if I wanted to hold on to that spot I just needed to hold off the field for the remaining 40 minutes and three laps in change. With a 1:30 lead on the field, this was very doable, so I settled in to solo time trial mode. With the figure eight course I could judge approximately how much of my lead was left because the field was coming through turn five towards me as I was heading through turn one. My lead was fluctuating with very little variation. Nice.

After about twenty five minutes of being solo I legitimately starting to get bored. No one to yell at, no group dynamics, no musical distraction like when I am training, just the unyielding hate from my body. I was smiling though; I had to laugh as I yelled to some random person at a corner, "This isn't what I signed up for!"

Hartley, White and Mead continued to terrorize the field and went off the front again, bringing a Team Big Shark rider from the field with them. They caught me and sitting in a draft again was a beautiful thing, even if it meant my outside shot at a podium was really dead. Now I had to try and fight for my fourth place position. More attacking before I was even half recovered with H & W going off, Mead unable to cover them and I unable to cover the Team Big Shark rider who they were taking for a ride. Bummer.

Mead and I worked together for the remainder of the race, picking up some more lapped riders along the way who stayed out of our way and enjoyed the generous draft.



So, in the end, it was one of the hardest fifth place finishes I ever worked for. When the announcer called me up for the post-race interview I could barely put two words together, totally blanked on names and sputtered out generalities. Fun times.


All photos courtesy of Nikki Cyp, thanks!

Willow Springs - IL State Road Race Championships

I made the eventual winning break but had a mechanical at the same moment I knew it was going to stay away. Bummer.

Racine Criterium - Superweek

After Schlitz park my next Superweek race was the Racine Criterium. The course was a figure eight, think Proctor but shorter, with a little downhill/uphill between turns four and eight. The weather was sunny and warm to start for the thirty five of us in the Cat3. Going into the race I was hopeful that a break could stay away but wasn't going to be surprised if it came down to a bunch sprint. My plan was to sit tight until about twenty to go and then get serious about initiating some moves.

The race was fast from the gun and I wasn't on top of my game, making simple mistakes like letting gaps open through some corners. There were some early attacks and even a threatening looking break of maybe six riders that contained two which I was watching, but it only lasted a few laps before falling apart. About a third of the way through the race the wet stuff started to hit my glasses. Trouble.

At first it looked like it wasn't going to be enough to hamper the race, but it kept coming down just enough that the course turned into a slick mess of manhole covers, tile crosswalks and road paint. My tires were not inflated for wet traction (or just over inflated) and I almost washed out twice when my front wheel skipped into turn four and my rear slipped in turn one. For about two laps I seriously considered dropping out lest I actually kiss the pavement. Luckily though no one was interested in taking serious risks and the race progressed at a leisurely pace.

The rain did pass on though and with twelve laps to go I could see that it was just dry enough to take the turns at full speed again, but everyone was still continuing on like it was wet. Without putting more than a second's thought into it, which was probably best, I attacked. I took a quick glance back and no one wanted to come along and suffer with me, but that's cool, less to worry about.



As I passed the start/finish I saw eleven laps to go. Eleven laps. Man, WTF was I thinking. Here I am. Again. And again. Well, at least I'll have some fun with it and make people really do some work to chase me down. Taking your own line and slamming it through every corner, powering out of the saddle through the uphill, having people yell splits at you, all of that never gets old.



My gap wasn't anything threatening to start, probably sub 10 seconds but it started to grow with each lap. I knew I was in this for the long haul so I settled into a "comfortable" rhythm. I'm told my gap stretched out to about 20 seconds and then there was a serious concerted effort to bring me back. With about six laps left I was brought within striking distance of the peloton, but no one wanted to seal the deal, and my gap opened up again. Or so I'm told, I wasn't looking back.

With two to go and with the gaps being yelled at me at about twenty five seconds I knew I had this one in the bag. I was honestly surprised I pulled it off. Cruising across the start/finish I was ecstatic not only to win a Superweek race, but to win in front of my parents there who were in town from California.