11-11-11: a date that will live in infamy!

So, what were you doing on 11-11-11 at 11:11 AM? Me, I was a mermaid sandwich!


If you read the fine print of my paper, it sez "Celebrating 11-11-11 @ 11:11 AM" Too bad we ended up with the only blind dude in the joint taking our picture with my cell phone. The blurry photo doesn't do justice to Mermaid Carol S on my left, and Mermaid Carol O on my right.

We hooked up at 24 HR Fitness in Ralston for my Extreme Swim Makeover. You know, my swim nickname is Flounder. I earned that moniker during my two triathlons. Bike great, run decent, swim....flounder. Not to mention I can't swim a straight line. I look like a slalom skiier in the water, zig-zagging hither and fro.

Carol O, aka Aquawoman, Dara II, or Flipper, offered to do the makeover. Carol O, she of Marian fame, nationally ranked competitor, certied instructor and molder of clay.

Carol S, winner of a bazillion triathlons, Trek the Towers, Sears Towers and IRONWOMAN herself, waits on the sidelines to provide encouragement and CPR.

So, first order of bizness, sez Carol O, is to see what I've got to start with. Swim an easy 100 meters, please. I plunge in the icy-cold liquid and start my thrash. I couldn't help but notice the other swimmers in the pool immediately vacate the pool lest they be knocked unconscious by my flailing arms. I swim "EZ" back n forth 2x, the oxygen-starved diesel redlining, rip the goggles off and see Carol S trying to revive poor Carol O, who had passed out after witnessing the spectacle. Carol O comes out of her stupor, leaps up and makes a valiant sprint for the exit, but a nice flying tackle by Carol S corrals her before her escape is complete. "Come on, you can fix him, you've seen worse!"

"LIAR!" she retorts. Grudingly, she returns, and accepts the challenge. "Boy, we've got trouble. Right here in River City. Trouble, starts with T and rhymes with P, and stands for Pool. You are a menace in the Pool. However, I'll do it. You will be my crowning achievement!" she tells me.

We get down to Add/Remove Programs. She removes Windows Thrashing. She reinstalls Swim 101 and Drills Basic. I'm rebooted. I learn to glide on my side/back, arm extended, with just my snout out of the drink. Then I add in snout to water and snout back up, I add a stroke to my snout out/snout down move, I flip to the other side, then repeat. I graduate to 3 strokes eventually. At some point, I become self-aware. I begin to THINK. I SWIM! I AM HAL, model 11-11-11@11:11. Makeover commenced, but not complete. Estimated date of prototype release, September 9th, at Ironman Wisconsin, 2012.

And where were you on 11-11-11@11:11 AM?

Joules Cross

As we head into the heart of the cx season, this weekend of racing in Kansas sounded like a good one to try. The course is laid out on private land, with the owner generously giving the local cyclists a place to race both cx and dirt track. They held a series this summer racing around a 300m dirt oval on fixed gear bikes (using cx tires-this isn't a smooth surface), which sounds like a lot of fun. Anyhow, the cx course was an excellent mix of wide open flats, hairpin descents, a board dismount and a in/out spiral. It was beautifully mown, with little need for any additional marking.The first day course was extremely bumpy in spots, especially on a long descent-none of us could find a good line and ended up feeling like we were operating jackhammers. There were about 40 in the entire masters heat, with 16 in my division (50+ masters) Saturday. The standard set of 360 Racing Team masters were there to beat on everyone, including Steve Songer (10th at Planet Bike USGP a few weeks ago in 45+). I knew that if I was not on his wheel after a 1/2 lap, I was racing for second. They started us in waves (30+, 40+ 50+ and 60+). I had a horrible start and was immediately gapped by Songer and David Moore, along with a couple of other riders, so vying for second it was. I worked my way through the group that gapped me, and after 1.5 laps, only David Moore (and, of course, Songer) remained in front of me, and he was riding extremely well. He's been tearing it up this year, and I started to wonder if I would catch him. I noticed that he was struggling on the climbs of the course. After another lap, I could see that I had made up 5 seconds on him, with another 10-15 remaining, so I redoubled my effort and reeled him in. When he saw me go by on the next lap, he tried to stay with me, but I sat in for a bit, then punched it up the first hard uphill and dropped him. Sailed in for 2nd place.

Other local racers fared well. John Rokke finished 2nd in the 3/4 race, Aaron Treadway 6th; Sydney Brown easily beat out the Open Women's field. The one downer was Rich Pearson's crash in the master's 60+ race: he was handily winning it, but slipped on a corner descent and broke a bone in his shoulder. 4-6 weeks of no racing. Ouch. Sheclismo rider Elisabeth Reinkordt from Lincoln did well in the women's 3/4, finishing 5th. Huge women's 3/4 field, rivaling the size of the men's 3/4, which is a great sign of progress.

Competition for the second day was tougher, with Songer and Moore's teammate Andy Lucas (9th at PB USGP 45+) joining in the fun. The course was fun and fast on Sunday, with hairpin descents that were a great technical feature. Much better start, but Songer and Lucas got away as I was stuck behind a rider with quick acceleration but poor handling skills through the turns. I was solidly in 3rd after a lap, with Moore chasing. Songer and Lucas worked out to a 20 second gap ahead of me, which they maintained. I struggled to get any closer, but a headwind on the flat stretches of the course gave the two teammates a big drafting advantage (though they later told me they were trying to drop each other on the rest of the course). Moore gradually fell back to about 20 seconds behind me, and it stayed that way for the rest of the race, with Lucas winning, Songer 2nd, myself 3rd, Moore 4th, and Dan Hansen (also riding for 360, great photo here) rounding out the top five. I was the VV in the middle of a 360 sandwich.

The Nebraska crew duplicated its efforts from yesterday: Sydney won (beating nemesis Catherine Walberg), Rokke finished 3rd in the 3/4, and Elisabeth Reinkordt 7th in the women's 3/4s.

Two podiums, a terrific course, a well-run event (Free State Racing did an outstanding job of promoting the event) and my wife there to cheer me on made for an excellent weekend of racing. Joules Cross is definitely worth the drive to Lawrence.

There is proof in the proof. Done, medaled, toasted and the Diet Coke Victory Salute! Chicago Marathon 2011, the Revenge Tour, is in the books!




I haven't had a sponge bath since I was a baby, but these sponges saved my bacon during the crispy hot run!

Added a couple of telling photos to supplement previous Marathon Madness blog below. It's Friday and I'm feeling all giddy again. Resting up after Sunday's marathon is done. Several yoga sessions, Panera's coffee visits, and some easy pedaling and I'm feeling human again.

Need to start training for Ironman Wisconsin 2012, starting tomorrow at the SW YMCA at 7 AM. Must confront the swimming demons and begin thrashing about. Actually, Carol has promised to reinvent me as a swimmer. Let the madness continue.

Maple Y represents at the 2011 Omaha Corporate Cup

Stacy and I went to the Omaha Corporate Cup Awards banquet last week. The Greater Omaha Metro YMCA lady team finished 2nd overall in the team event. The YMCA men, which included El Guapo Supreme, finished in 3rd. Good showing!

Stacy teaches a mean Body Pump class and Group Cycling. She has a loyal following for good reason. Your truly teaches Group Cycling and Yoga at the Y. If you are interested in attending, let me know. I can drum up some guest passes. Love my Y family!

Marathon Madness

Race Report for Chicago Marathon 2011:

El Guapo Supreme and his little enchilada Millie celebrate the final result!

The pressure was on after the 2010 Chicago fiasco. You remember last year, where I melted down in the 85F October heat at Mile 20. Walked two miles after cramping and finished at 3:58. Illusions of qualifying for Boston in my 1st ever marathon evaporated as quickly as my bi-weekly paycheck. It gnawed at me ever since. I wore my orange World Vision wristband all year as a daily reminder. I had UNFINISHED BUSINESS!

So, I trained hard for this. I changed tactics. I understood now what to expect.

Game day this year was on, Sunday, Oct. 9th. My goal was harder this year. New Boston qualifying times meant I had to run 3:30 or less. This year I followed WV training plan. No free-lancing. This year I rode my bike around Chicago before the race. No 10 mile death marches the day before the race. This year I had breakfast on race day. Last year nada. This year I ran with Nike pace group. Last year surged out of the gates way too fast. This year more Gu, water and Gatorade.

Started in Corral C next to the 3:30 Nike pace group. Running naked. No clocks, no timers, no Garmins. Just me and my iPod. Took a minute or two to get to the start line after the Kenyans started the clock. The first "X factor."

The crowd was electric. Music and bands everywhere. Millions of spectators. It was so great. One should experience this as either a competitor or a fan! I high-fived some Husker fans. I did some dances. I rallied the crowds. I was into this. No demons this year like last year at mile 7. Good frame of mind. Got to 13.1 with juice. Now down to bizness. Next obstacle was to run thru mile 20 where last year's meltdown started. Did it!

Then at mile 23, the Reaper visited, as you knew he would. My right hammie seized. Arggghh! Not again. No! Decision time. Submit to the pain like last year or refuse to lose? Teetering at the edge of the abyss. Called on old reliable. The Diet Coke. The DC brought me back from the abyss. I was not going to allow this opportunity go. I dug deep. Then deeper. The 3:30 group pulled away when I cramped. I tried vainly to catch back on. They are tantalizingly close, maybe a 100 yards ahead. Finally, mile 25 arrives. 1.2 miles to go. A minute or two to play with. The X factors; the time it took to get to the starting line, coupled with the 3:30 group slightly ahead of pace and the perceived 59 second cushion. Previously, you could finish in 3:30.59 and still qualify.

I could still do it. I'll never do it if I don't give 100%. I ran as hard as I could. I round the final corner. The FINISH LINE was .2 miles ahead. The Nike pace group finishes. I'm a 100 yards behind. My face is contorted in pain as I "sprint" for the line. The clock reads 3:31.50. Was it enough with the X factors?

I think I've made it by the hair of my chinny chin chin. Then someone tells me there is no longer a 59 second cushion offered by Boston. I sink. I despair. So bleeding close. I desperately needed that cushion. Without it I am forked. I am low. Lower than whale poop. Lower than a snake's belly.

I muddle my way towards the World Vision hospitality tent. I am grim. I've been reaped. CK approaches. She had runner tracking on her cell phone. She shows me. Unofficially, 3:29.56.

I'm dumbfounded. I am rescued again. My spirits soar. I have done it. I qualify for Boston by 4 freaking seconds! You know, one banana, two banana, three banana, four banana. The planets align. My guardian angel escorts me. I enter the tent and scream it out....Boston Baby!!! Everyone in the tent claps and cheers. I reach for a Diet Coke. Pop the lid and drink it all in. The DC. Next up, Boston 2013. The Boston DC party!

THE Mullet Classic

This race has been bouncing around in the back of my head for a few weeks now. Originally I had thought about making the long journey for the WORS season finale in Sheboygan (WI), but work commitments nixed those plans and left me searching for something to sate my desire for one more mountain bike race. After my crash and subsequent shoulder injury last week I figured that racing the Mullet Classic was out of the question. As things slowly got better over the course of the week and I grew restless, I started to consider racing again. I figured if nothing else it would serve as a nice long aerobic workout, which is something I felt I’ve been missing lately. Besides, how can you resist a race that has “mullet” in the name. A spot in the Feagan’s vehicle sealed the deal for me, and we took off bright and early Sunday morning for Lake Ahquabi.

After arriving and kitting up we took survey of the trails before start time. I had heard/read ahead of time that the course was fast, with lots of doubletrack and swooping turns. The pre-ride/warm up did not disappoint as the course was fun and barn-burner fast! I decided pre-race to set up some bottles on the Feagan’s aid table as I didn’t really have a good feel for how many bottles I would need or how long the race would take. I positioned a couple cold water bottles in my cooler so that they would be available for a quick exchange, and headed to the start. Despite the fact that this was supposed to be a low-key race for me I was still nervous. Nobody likes getting their ass kicked, and this was my first cat. 1 mountain bike race. Even if it was a small race there were still fast guys in it.

As the starter sent us off Cam Kirkpatrick and Matias Perret went to the front and lead the group out with Ryan Feagan, Jay Chesterman, and Ryan Nenninger in tow. I started slow, partly as a result of pedal fumbling and partly out of trepidation. I tucked in about 8^th wheel and eventually moved up to get on Matt Gersib’s wheel. The leadout train was moving quickly, and Matt didn’t seem overly concerned with catching them, but at the same time wasn’t riding slow either. I debated trying to get around or just settling in. In my mind I was worried that an overzealous start would result in a very unpleasant death march to the finish on lap 4. When the majority of your races are barely more than an hour in Cat. 2, riding for 2 hours or more is a bit intimidating. So I hung back. After bogging down on a steep pitch behind Matt I went around and decided to set off on my own. I couldn’t even see the top guys anymore and just sort of resigned myself to riding alone for most of the race.

I tried to keep an even hard tempo and ride as smooth as possible with hopes of maybe picking up a straggler or two. I hated the idea of getting beat by Ryan, who although a far better bike handler than me had spent most of his time since Dakota 5-0 training minimally and eating fried food (by his own admission). At this point though Ryan was out of sight and I figured it wasn’t worth worrying about at the moment. I was pleased to find that the backside of the course which we had not been able to ride during the warm-up had some challenging climbs on it. I like hills.

After two laps my bottle was empty and I stopped briefly at the start/finish to pick up a fresh bottle. It wasn’t long after getting going again that Gersib showed up and promptly went around me. I hadn’t realized that he was still relatively close when I stopped for a bottle change and that I had effectively erased any gap I had by stopping. It was then that I regretted not starting the race with both bottle cages full. Matt was wearing a camelbak under his jersey and thus didn’t need to stop for a bottle change. I let Matt tow me around for a while, dutifully scrambling to make up the ground I lost on the descents or fast corners. With my recent shoulder injury still fresh in my mind I was perhaps still a bit afraid to fully let it rip on the fast and loose sections of the course. After swooping around on Matt’s wheel for a while and making a few sketchy passes of lapped riders we all of a sudden came upon Jed Clampet (errr…Ryan Feagan) poking along in his denim and flannel cut off kit. Ryan let out an audible sound of disappointment as we caught him, but nonetheless he kicked up the pace so that we had a three man NE train going! It was kind’a fun.

A little while later the NE train came rolling up on the familiar orange Powerade/Indy Fab jersey of Jay Chesterman. Chomp. Jay was absorbed by the train and we continued to roll. Knowing that we were headed into another section of the course with some significant climbing followed by some fast descents, I decided it was tactically in my best interests to try to get some breathing room on the climbs. As we approached a left turn going into a prolonged moderate climb I whipped around and threw down the attack. I knew that someone had taken up the chase behind me, but I didn’t look back to see who. I just put my head down and tried to build a gap. Not long after that we picked up and subsequently dropped Nenninger. From that point on I built a lead, although I don’t know how big it got at it’s largest point. About midway through lap 4 I realized that I had company, and as we hit the prolonged climb this time it was Gersib throwing down the well-timed attack. After getting the gap on the climb he kept the pressure on in the downhill sections and put some time into me. I tried my best to keep him in my sights, even slamming it into the big ring for the long flat section by the lake. By the time we hit the steep grinding asphalt climb I had made up a little ground, but he was still far enough ahead that catching him would have taken something pretty heroic. I stayed strong for the final climb on the course but wasn’t making up any ground and the gap remained to the finish. After all was said and done Matt was able to put about 30 seconds into me. We finished in just under 2 hours and averaged about 13 mph, which is totally ridiculous for a mountain bike race.

After the race we stuck around for the food and beer and waited for Roxy and Todd to finish the marathon race. When the results were posted it turned out that Gersib and I were battling for the final podium spot. Doh! I wish I had known that during the race. There’s always a little extra motivation to be found when you know you’re in contention for glory and/or cash! I don’t know that I could have caught Matt, but perhaps I would have had a little more motivation to turn myself inside out trying. After an hour or so of eating drinking and socializing we finally loaded up and hit the road. A good time was had by all, and I’m already thinking about where we can get a Camaro with a bike rack for the road trip to next year’s race.

Omaha Cyclocrash Weekend

Everybody seems to get pretty fired up for the local races, and the hype machine was in full effect going into the Omaha weekend, which for all intents and purposes serves as the first race of the CX season for most of us. This year I already had a tune up race in Iowa and some big time racing at the USGP in Madison under my belt, so I was ready to rock out in the open race. I helped Randy set up the course and organize the registration in the morning so I had a chance to peruse the start lists and noted that while the field wasn’t huge it would be filled with some quality riders. The course at Swanson is a real doozy with lots of grunty short climbs, one sustained climb, and plenty of off camber turns to keep you from getting too fancy. On top of that was a nasty maze slammed down on the side of a hill that was giving riders fits during the practice laps.

After a hard weekend of racing in Madison, and a pretty solid week of training leading up to the Omaha weekend my legs were a little less than fresh, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect after the warm-up. As a result of too much dinking around prior to staging I had to start on the third row…oops. I burned some matches trying to move up early on, and probably got myself up to about 7^th wheel before we hit the maze. I got gapped a bit coming out of the maze and really got on the gas to try and make contact again. As a result I came into one of the downhill off camber turns a little too hot and slid out…right in front of a mob of pac man ghosts. I got up quickly for fear of being eaten.

Things happen fast in CX and just like that I lost about 5 positions and almost got eaten by ghosts. I had to take a moment to get my chain back on and get rolling again. I was annoyed with myself for having made a mistake that I knew would cost me, especially so early in the race. Eventually I clawed back most of the positions I had lost, but not without a herculean effort. As the race wore on I found myself locked in a battle with Tyler Carmichael as we went back and forth alternately attacking each other. I had a good gap going for a while, but eventually Tyler worked his way back onto my wheel. We were together flying through the sweeping downhill left known unofficially as the “walnut turn” when I heard the unmistakeable commotion behind me that signifies a crash (usually the sound of grunting, swearing, and bending metal). I didn’t look back, but I knew that was probably the end of that battle for the day. I went on to grab another spot as a tiring Nate Woodman gave me some encouragement as I went by. I finished the race 8^th overall out of 18 starters, which was o.k. I felt like I could have done better, but people always think that, it’s just human nature. I promised myself that on day 2 I would avoid the costly mistakes of day 1. Boy was I wrong.

After a restless night of lazing about with achey legs I headed back to Swanson early on Sunday morning to help with course set-up and registration again. I watched the early races with anticipation and cheered on my girlfriend Emily in her second-ever bike race. I was proud of her for bucking up after a tough first day on Saturday which was capped by a less than fun crash. I reminded her that crashing is part of the framework that makes up the learning curve in cycling…or at least in off-road cycling. And of course by this logic I should be learning a shit-load this season because I’ve hit the turf in every single race so far!

I had a nice start on Sunday, but I was too tentative on the fast downhill section and lost some positions I would have liked to have kept. My legs didn’t feel awful, but had no real pop. I lost the front group early on, and again had to fight back after dumping the bike on a dry slow 180 turn. After that the top 7-8 guys were just gone, and I didn’t have the legs to bring any of them back. Eventually, Steve Jarrett caught up to me and we waged a nice back and forth battle for a while. I fought hard to stay in front of Steve knowing that he would likely gap me in the technical sections if I let him get ahead. I could tell he was working hard by listening to his breathing, and I decided to keep applying pressure when I could, namely in the running or power sections. Eventually, I was able to get a gap that stuck going into the last lap, and was somewhat happy that I would come out on top of this battle.

After completing the climb I bombed the downhill leading into the maze to maintain my gap. Unfortunately, I “got a little too big for my britches” (as Stamper was fond of saying) heading into the sweeping left at the beginning of the maze and slammed hard. In fact it’s probably about as hard as I can recall crashing for quite a while. I landed directly on my left shoulder and the impact was stunning. After I regained my wits I started to worry I had broken my arm or shoulder. After a few moments Steve passed by and told me that we had a good enough gap that I could probably maintain my position (minus what I’d lost to him) if I could ride it out. I checked the bike and assessed the usefulness of my arm. In an effort to see if I could finish, I mounted the bike and gingerly made my way through the maze using the left arm as little as possible.

I was initially so defeated that I didn’t entirely care if anyone else passed me. As I reached the Omaha version of “hooligan hill” the assembled crowd started chanting “beer, beer, beer”, collectively urging me to take a handup. Normally I’m so focused on going fast that I wouldn’t even notice, but in the wrecked state I was in I was happy to oblige. Half a Miller High Life and a few turns later, I limped in for a 10^th place finish among the 19 starters. This was the start of basically a week of moping, poor quality sleep and partial disability. Happily I’ve been able to get back to riding recently, and the shoulder/arm doesn’t seem to be broken or anything. It’s weird what the combination of a bad day on the bike compounded by an injury does to your mindset. For most of the week I didn’t even want to ride, but as things got better I eventually began to think about Mullets…

( I should also add that a number of other VV rides had great races this weekend. Todd Eyeberg, Dave Randleman, and Jonathan Neve raced well in the Cat. 3 races, Ben Swan got after it in the Cat. 4 race, and Randy Crist competed in a stacked masters race.)

U.S. Grand Prix of Cyclocross #1 Planet Bike Cup Day 2

After all of my whining (in jest) on day 1 about the perfect weather and conditions being inappropriate for cyclocross, mother nature took note and delivered on the weather for day 2. Before the race, I opted for an early brunch at one of my Madison favorites, El Dorado Grill. I watched the rain coming down in sheets from the gray sky as I scarfed down a warm stack of blue corn pancakes with cascabel chili maple syrup and red chili butter and a side of bacon. Today would be a good day for cyclocross. After breakfast we rushed to the venue to see the homies (Josh and Tim) roll out in the SS race. I recon’d the course and took note that all of the off camber sections were shredded to pieces. With continued rain and thunderstorms forecast throughout the day I knew things would only get more awesome.

For some reason getting to the start line always seems to be an adventure for me in that there always seems to be more things to do than I have allotted myself time to do them in. This day was no exception as I scrambled around trying get things in order before staging time. But, because this was a big important race it seems that the adventure/drama factor had to be cranked up a notch. I headed out for my warmup at the normal time after pinning my number to my jersey and leaving it in the car. About a ½ mile to a mile from the venue I stood on the pedals to accelerate as I crossed a major road. Ching! I looked down to see what I intuitively knew, but did not want to acknowledge. Chain broken. After muttering a few curse words I quickly collected my bike and busted chain and started running back to the venue to search out the SRAM neutral support tent. Luckily, I found them and they hooked me up with a new chain no questions asked. Disaster #1 averted. I rolled back to the car to don my jersey and get back lickety split for staging.

As I got back to the car the rain started to fall hard again, and I ducked inside to stay warm and dry while getting ready. After pulling on my jersey I tried several times to zip it up but couldn’t quite get it done. After inspecting the zipper a little more closely I realized that the bottom piece of plastic on the zipper had broken off inside the…thingy. Anyway, the bottom line was that unless I wanted to rock the flying tails look, this jersey was done. I invoked Arrested Development in my head as I yelled to nobody in particular “come on!” Luckily I was wise enough to bring an extra jersey, and quickly made the number switch, being careful not to mess up the zipper this time.

As staging time drew near the weather only seemed to get worse. I was waiting underneath the shelter area watching water pouring off the eaves and lighting flash in the distance when I heard the distinct “tack…tack, tack…tack, tack, tack” of hail. As things went from awesome to more awesome the announcers got on the p.a. and told us that they were delaying staging by 20 minutes to let the worst weather pass. Somehow the race management timed things perfectly as the weather seemed to clear up right around the time we were called to stage. I had starting position that wasn’t terrible, but not great either. I was probably about 5 rows back from the start, with 3-4 rows behind me. I prepared myself mentally for the start.

At the gun I got clipped in fairly quickly but was hesitant to give it full gas, knowing we were going to be flying into a right hand sweeper off the pavement into wet grass and mud. This fact didn’t seem to deter anyone else though as guys flew buy me leading into the first turn. Amazingly nobody went down, and not amazingly I got shuffled to the back of the pack. This is normally a sucky position to be in, but when you are in a muddy race with about 60 guys in front of you it REALLY sucks. I went to work passing guys as soon as I could, but I knew that being hesitant at the start had cost me some spots I would most likely never get back. Once again, the importance of a good start in CX racing was made abundantly clear as I slogged along in the latter third of the field.

Happily I was able to pass a lot of guys during the race and claw my way back up into the top ½ of the field by races end. I might have done even a little better had I remembered to put in toe spikes before the race. Total amateur mistake. I got killed every time we had to dismount and run as I had zero traction. Ah well. Although I would have liked to have done better overall, a top 30 placing in a 35+ masters field at a well attended USGP race was not something to go home and cry about. I actually left the race hopeful that I had room for improvement, and could legitimately be in the top 10-15 in a USGP level 2/3 race and in the top 20-25 in a 35+ race. Time will tell I guess.

Omaha Cyclocrash...err cross Weekend recap coming soon

Velo/Greenstreet Sunday, October 2nd ride

Hey peeps,

Due to our club hosting the Omaha Cyclocross Weekend on Saturday and Sunday, this Sunday's Velo/Greenstreet ride will be cancelled. Instead, consider coming down and racing or watching at Swanson Park in Bellevue, at about 30th and Cornhusker. Bring your cowbells and lawn chairs. Should be a great day. Playground equipment nearby for entertaining rugrats.

El Guapo Supreme
(no, this is not a Taco Bell menu option)

U.S. Grand Prix of Cyclocross #1 Planet Bike Cup

Prologue

Going into this past weekend I was super fired up for the start of the CX season. The Planet Bike Cup is the first stop on the U.S. Grand Prix of cyclocross circuit, and is a well organized and super competitive event. Add to that the fact that it’s held just outside of my beloved Madison, WI and you have all of the making s of a great race weekend. I winged in to Madison on Friday evening directly from Orlando where I had been all week for work, and was greeted by beautiful cool fall weather. We received a little rain over night, but upon arrival at the venue the course appeared to be in good shape and there was nothing but cool blue sky and sunshine in abundance.

Day 1 USGP Category 2/3 race

After a slightly rushed warm up I headed to the staging area to prepare for my call up. Call ups are managed by order of registration at the Planet Bike Cup so you have to be on the ball and know when registration opens to get a good spot in the starting grid. While I registered within 30 minutes or so of the opening of registration, I still got stuck about 5 rows back from the line. While not disastrous, it’s certainly a disadvantage to be starting that far back. Luckily I wasn’t one of those poor suckers who was stuck at the back!

The field size was just shy of 100, and the adrenaline was running high as we prepared for the start. The start of cyclocross races are normally a pretty frantic and chaotic affair, but in a field size this big, full of fit and skilled riders, it becomes even more nuts. Some guys up front inevitably have trouble clipping in, while others come roaring up from poor starting positions in the rear trying to weasel or bully their way to the front. Occasionally people touch wheels or crash and ensnare those around them. As the gun fired , the sounds of pedal stomping, drivetrains engaging , and rubber being laid to pavement filled the air as we collectively leapt forward. I managed to hold my position reasonably well during the opening scrum and started moving up on the outside as we flew down the long power section leading into the first barrier section. I swung wide and picked my line as we turned toward the barriers and then before I knew it I was on the ground looking at the rider behind me turn his bike sideways just soon enough to avoid riding over my face. Phew. I got back up quickly and started to run the bike over the barriers. When I got to the other side I hopped back on intent on pulling back those spots I’d lost. It was then I realized that my chain had derailed. Doh! I got off and pulled far over to the side and fumbled around briefly popping it back on. While it didn’t take a huge amount of time to fix my chain, the fact that the crash occurred so early in the race ensured that I was screwed. NOW, I WAS one of those poor suckers who was stuck at the back!

Luckily there is a fair amount of room to move on this course, and I set forth from that point with the intent to do as well as I could under the circumstances. I rode about as hard as I could for the rest of the race and pulled back every rider in my sights. Aside from that initial costly mistake, I rode the rest of the race without incident and was able to move from dead last up to 29^th by the end of the race. It wasn’t exactly the result I had hoped for, but not a bad one all things considered. If nothing else it’s good to gain experience in big race situations. After the race we hung around to drink a few beers and watch the pro races. I got the chance to help out one of the local riders and watch the goings on in the wheel/bike pit, while one of my friends race d to a 30^th place finish in his first cat 1/UCI elite CX race. Pretty cool!

As we headed home to rest up and chow down on some dinner, I looked at the weather forecast for Sunday. The weatherman promised that conditions for CX racing would be EPIC, and indeed they were…(to be continued)

Tour de Offutt

Velo/Greenstreet ride blazed new trail thru the heart of Offutt AFB

About 30 roadies met at Blue Line downtown on Sunday. A command decision was made to launch towards Offutt AFB in hopes of seeing some flying warbirds and, perchance, to actually pedal into the airshow. It happened!

We pedaled west to Memorial Park, Elmwood Park, scared some commoners as we invaded the Farmer's Market in Aksarben Village. Boogied down the Keystone and pitstopped at Culver's. Then journeyed to Capehart Road, and proceeded unimpeded into Offutt. Led by Colonel Matt O'Donnell and retired Air Forcer Tim Ihry, we stopped for photo right near the airshow. Alas, thunder rumbled so we opted to cruise instead of stay. Pedaled around the runway, hit the cobbles in Bellevue. Soon thereafter the heavens opened and we were nuked. Otherwise, a fantastic day for biking. Join us next week, same bat time, same bat channel. No feeble excuses accepted. El Guapo Supreme.

Hometowned and down: Pig report

Guapo marvels at the Mermaid. An HONOR to be her partner. I'm not worthy to carry her flippers.


El Guapo Supreme deep-fried after 56 mile @ 24.1 MPH grueling TT, the Orbea hanging in the background on the now-infamous rack. Yo quiero Diet Coke!


So, did my 3rd ever triathlon Sunday, the appropriately named Pigman Triathlon. A pig of a race, or rather of the end results. I was part of a fabulous relay team, where I only had to bike, no floundering on the swim and no stumbling run. It was the 1st relay TT for any of us, so we had no idea what we were to do, especially in transition.

My swim partner was the phenomenal Carol O of south Omaha. Nationally ranked, offspring of Poseidon for sure. A Omaha Marian Wall of Famer. Aquawoman!

Jeff M lined up to do the 13.1 run. Yours truly hoping to hammer the 56 mile bike.

The race started off sweet as sugar! Carol starts in the first wave, swimming with the ELITES, and was 4th out of the agua in a mind-boggling 29 minutes. The PA announcer screams "here comes the 1st of the relay teams, Two Men and a Mermaid." I'm dumb-founded, flabber-gasted. She is 4 minutes ahead of schedule. Swims the 1.2 miles in 29 bleeding minutes! Only 3 pro men swim out before her.

She sprints up the hill from the water to T1, gills pulsing, and passes the timing chip to me at T1 and I'm off on the hilly, multi-turn 56 miles journey. I stoke the diesel engine. Wide-open throttle. Bring it up to red-line. 3 pro rabbits in front of me, multitudes of hungry wolves at the door behind me. Think of sustainable power and the Diet Coke reward. The DC motivates me during the tuff spots where the legs are screaming, the demons are wrestling for control of my mind. I'm up against the Pain Wall. Jack visits me. Yells at me. You need me on that wall. Don't quit! I'm going to rip the eyeballs out of your head and puke in your dead skull if you quit. You get the idea.

Big pressure to hold onto the lead over all the other relay teams that Carol gave to me. I planned on doing a 2:25 bike and 23 mph average, but ended up with churning to a 2:19 and 24.1 mph.
Finally, the last killer hill turning into the park. I scale it. Now a fast last 3 miles and my suffering is nearly at an end.
Slid into T2 and gave the chip to Jeff. We are in 6th place at T2, having only been passed by two elite men during my ride.

Time for me to chill. Time to build a cake or something, maybe catch a delicious bass.

The Mermaid and I now anxiously await Jeff's return. We get massaged. We dance. We gloat. We feast on the visions of the spoils that await us. Jeff runs 1:35 and we end up easily as the winners of the Coed Division by 3 minutes, 50 seconds.

But wait! The local USAT referee informs us an hour later that we have been penalized 4 minutes. For what? For hanging your TT bike on the wrong rack in transition, you dumb-*ss rookie. But the volunteer running T2 told me to put it there! I asked her! Tuff luck pal, you should have known the rules. Now drag your toothless, hillbilly *ss back to Husker-tucky where you belong and take your 2nd place trophy with you.

This penalty allows the 2nd place team, from Iowa (conspiracy theorists chime in here, please) to clip us by 10 miserable seconds. Oh, the humanity! I feel miserable, cost my teammates the WIN. Instead, we are the 1st LOSERS. Only positive to take from this is that we kicked everyone's hiney and they KNOW it.

As Rosanne Rosannadanna sez, "just goes to show you, it's always something." Time to funnel the rage, the humiliation into something positive. Like returning for revenge next year, kicking booty and giving that ref a middle-digit salute as we leave with the hardware. Good night now. Harumph!

Into Thin Air

Climb Every Mountain Click on pic to enlarge

You can tell by the huge smile that Simone is tickled Velo to be on the very top of Trail Ridge Road in Rocky Mountain National Park. She's standing in front to of the Never Summer range of mountains at 12,183 feet, sporting her new Specialized Dulce from Greenstreet Cycles. Not many people do this ride. It is rated "very difficult" by all the ride experts. One must battle the altitude as well as the RVers and Harleys.

Simone, El Guapo Supreme, her cousin Alex and uncle Joe saddled up early Wednesday from the RMNP entrance. It's a steady thumper from 7500 feet up to 12183. A few grumbles were heard, but she sacked up and went for broke. Another feathered feat in her bonnet now, to go along climbing Long's Peak 14255 at age 10.

Is there a Triple Bypass in her future? You heard it here first on the hush-hush and quite QT.

Ragbrai 2011 in the books

Simply Simone!

There are many pros and cons to the annual Ragbrai event. A few of the cons include the embarassing cyclist tan one will get after hours on the bike, being cut off in the left lane by Clysedales, and how can one forget the dreaded recumbents blazing down the hill with that arrogant smug look on their face as they pass you (the look is returned by me as I speed past them up the hill ;). But all in all, the pros outway the cons. The delicious and reasonably priced Farmers Bros. burritos are one of them. Also on my list of favorites is the ice cold watermelon sold by the locals. Their is debate to whether it is truely ice cold or not but it definitely is delicious. And although I'm not old enough to experience the multiple beer gardens, I'm sure that is one of the highlights of Ragbrai for the old goats. Even without my winggirl, Maddie, Ragbrai was a great experience as always. Ragbrai 2012, here I come!

RAG-FRY REPORT

Sharp-looking Veloers line up to do the 1st day of RAGBRAI. Left to right: Anne, Pete, re-Pete, Simone, Zach n Danny
Hoooey, boy! It was egg-frying hot out on the asphalt for the annual great bike ride across Iowa. Here's my version.

We met early in the inferno at Glenwood. Took group photo, without Dave and Michelle Cleasby, and launched the group towards the 1st rendezvous at Farmer Boys burritos. Quickly realized I forgot my lid. Sprinted back to Glenwood, but alas, my courier had scooted. So, I rode sans helmet, to much heckling from the other riders. "look at that moron. hope he's not riding all week."

Caught up with Simone at Silver City. Hit Farmer Boys and found more veloers. Lost Pete and Anne somewhere. Saw Todd. Saw Brother Joe. Had the absolute tastiest burrito on the planet. Saw the Saint Cecilia's contingent. We hit all the rest of the usual spots; smoothies, pastafari, watermelon, ice cream. Blazed into Atlantic at 4 pm. Rammed home some DCs, the ultimate motivator, at the Atlantic YMCA, gorged at the Pizza Ranch buffet and then hauled buns back for the cool confines of the Big O. Never hooked up with Veloer's Troy or Dave Randleman. Saw some Midwest posse riding against the grain. I cruised all day, not a hard effort at all. Enjoyed the hills. Relished them. And it was hilly!

Favorite bikes? Saw a sweet Euskatel Orbea, a nice vintage Merckx and, of course, Anne's De Rosa. Rode my stylin' Simonetti, got a few kind comments. Glad we bailed out on spending the night, as it didn't cool off at all. I love RAGBRAI, but give me Ride the Rockies anytime. Any other input?

Children of the Corn

Randy and Pete populate the podium

Corn recap:

I wanted to do the Cornhusker State Games this year fo' sure, cuz I wanted to be eligible to go do the 2013 State Games of America. Didn't know where that would be held until afterwards. Turns out it will be Hershey, PA. Being a chocolate fiend, that will be sweet.

So, I had to scamper back from high-altitude camping at 12000 ft in the Rockies in order to plop my fanny on the TT bike for the 1st time all year. I did the death march from 12000 ft down to the Jeep at 9100 ft. Being loaded down like a yak, it really zaps your quads and tests your fortitude as you descend. Then climb in the Jeep and drive for the whole day. Friday night I was fretting about just being competitive, let alone worrying about winning. Bountiful butterflies circling my brain on Friday night, to be replaced by ravenous vultures waiting to pick over my charred remains on Saturday after the race. Typical demons. Wish I was a vampire or lichen, instead of a mere mortal.

As it turns out, once they launched me out the starting gates, the fretting goes away, replaced by bellowing lungs. I ride naked. No gizmos, like HRMs or power meters or speedometers. The only measuring stick is SUFFERING. Can I suffer more? Or am I at REDLINE? A good TT'er is redlining the whole way. (not insinuating I'm good, I just read that somewhere)

Starting catching rabbits after the 1st mile or so. Passed my 30 second bunny near Bennington Road, then more hares while blasting down Deerfield. Hammered down to Maple, then starting worrying about going up the big-ass hill. Stayed aero the whole way up, but other riders heard the roar as I overtook them on the hill. No, not my aero Easton EC90 TT wheels, the sound of my lungs being sucked in and out of my mouth. Blessed by the east turn onto Rainwood, knowing the only suffering left to do is the long straight away to the finish.

Played on my strong suit again; the ability to suffer. I pumped the 54 yr old pegs to 1st in the Masters and 3rd overall. Spence and that vampire Brady smoked me like a rack of ribs, but hey, as you know, there is ALWAYS someone faster.

Next up....Boulder Ironman 70.3 on August 7. I will journey deep into the PAIN CAVE and confront more demons. I will endeavor to persevere.

Tranquility STXC/Babcook Road Race Recap

Preface: I didn't have time to do a write up for the Pyscowpath races two weekends ago as I left for a week long trip right after, but I did want to say that the Velo Veloce/Greenstreet crew were able to bring home a near podium sweep in the short track XC race (see photo).

After a week of work and travel in Canada I returned to Omaha for the Babcook Memorial Road Race, the final race of the Omaha race weekend. This was my second road race (ever) and my first race in Cat. 4, and I wanted to represent well for the club and hometown crowd. I managed to get in one ride while in Canada and a few runs so I figured that while not in peak form my fitness would be more or less o.k. Some of the guys on the team had talked briefly about employing some team tactics, but as it turned out our numbers were split as Dave and Pete opted for the masters race while Todd and I battled it out in the Cat. 4 field. Ben Swan and Doug Reid also rocked out in the Cat. 5 race while a trio of ladies (Jackie Wieres, Simone Duryea, and Maddie Eliston) represented Velo Veloce in the cat. 4 women's and junior races.

I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from the field as there were a lot of guys lined up who I had ridden with on the “Wednesday Night Worlds” ride who are pretty strong riders. One thing was for sure though, I wasn’t just going to be able to ride away from everybody, especially on a course that really had only one hill on it that was tough enough to create any separation. I hoped that we would be able to drive the pace hard enough on the climb to whittle down the field by mid-race or so.

We got off to a casual start, but given the sweltering heat I’m not surprised that nobody was eager to get after it early on. The pace continued to dawdle through the early laps, at times becoming painfully slow. I had to resist the urge to charge to the front and I kept reminding myself to try to conserve as much energy as possible while staying out of trouble. The slow pace kept the field together for probably at least 4 of the 7 circuits, and I felt incredibly claustrophobic at times. The climb was particularly challenging as the lane was quite narrow and I was occasionally forced to brake (!) on the climb as riders in front of me were climbing at a slower pace.

There were a couple of people who got off the front occasionally, but I don’t think any of them were real serious efforts to get away. I’m not surprised that nobody wanted to cook out there by themselves on this day. Eventually with about 3 laps to go I was able to get up front, and spent some time pulling the group along. Not surprisingly we didn’t have any organized rotation going in the group so I stayed in the middle of the group and never really saw the front until mid to late race.

Since the hill wasn’t really creating a lot of separation I figured there were two options. Option A was to attack on the penultimate climb with 1 lap to go and hope to get enough of a gap to stay away for the whole lap, and option B was to just wait it out and hope that I could pull it out in an uphill field sprint. While I felt I could probably do o.k. in the sprint I figured I was leaving the door open a little too wide and that my best bet was to attack.

(photo credit to Dan Farnham)

On lap 6 (of 7) I made sure that I stayed close to the front so that I would have an open lane of attack going into the climb. As we approached the base I slowly ramped up the pace and then hit the jets as soon as the pitch kicked up. As far as I could tell I got immediate separation, and I continued to hammer my way towards the top. As I neared the summit, Patrick Sumrell, a tall lean jr. rider who regularly hangs with the top group at WNW pulled up along side me and said something to the effect of “we’ve got it”. Sweet, a gap AND someone to work with!

I latched onto Patrick’s wheel to recover for a bit and then we traded pulls throughout the lap. I rode as hard as I could without blowing up, hoping to stay away to the finish. I was counting on a lack of a concerted team effort and cooperation in the group chasing us to keep them from shutting our move down before the finish. For the most part this worked as we were still free when we hit the 1k to go mark. Just prior to that I had been sitting on Patrick’s wheel resting, and thinking we had the race for 1^st and 2^nd in hand. I came around to ride parallel with him as we started the climb. We both accelerated as we started up but Patrick dropped back slightly and I figured that would be a good time to go for the win. As I got out of the saddle to jump, both of my quads started to cramp…attack fail. I had to sit back down and try to recover somehow as I watched Patrick ride away to victory. It was then that I looked over my shoulder to see Rob Swanson bearing down on me at a rapid pace. Crap. I tried to accelerate again but my legs weren’t having any of it. Both Rob and Ryan Johnston passed me well before the line and I had to hobble it in for 4^th (although scored as 3^rd in cat. 4 since Patrick is a jr).

All in all it was a valuable racing experience as I was forced to think about the race, make decisions on the fly, and pick a strategy that I thought would give me the best shot at winning. I don’t feel too bad as I know the guys I lost to are strong riders, and I’m not sure it would have turned out any differently had I chosen to wait for a field sprint at the finish. I definitely feel like I can win a race like that, it just didn’t come out in my favor this time. My only mistake really I think was not sitting on Patrick’s wheel a bit longer as we approached the finish. I figured we’d just have a head’s up drag race to the finish from 1k out, but I know that’s not how things operate in the cycling world for the most part. Maybe with a little more rest I would have had the juice to more effectively vie for the win (or at least hang on to 2^nd). I guess that’s a question that will have to be answered next time out, perhaps at the Lincoln weekend this fall. Thanks to all who provided support, especially the Greenstreet crew for the bottle hand ups (and post-race shade!) and to the race organizers for a great race. Also great to see all of the fellow teammates out there racing!

OCW/CSG Time Trial

We had great team participation at the Omaha Cycling Weekend/Cornhusker State Games Time Trial Saturday, with at least 8 riders competing (sorry if I miscounted!), out of 90+ riders. We had 4 medalists for CSG: Pete won the 50+ Masters, I was 2nd in the same group, Christyn Stumps was 3rd in the 50+ cat 4 women, and Shells Lau was 3rd in 40+ cat 4 women. It was a bit ridiculous for Pete and I to compete in the same category, since either one of us wold have easily won the cat 4 men, earning another gold medal for the team. A gold and silver is not too bad either...

Pete had the 3rd fastest time of the day over all of the classes, while I had an excellent day and had the 8th fastest time. The course was a bit of a change from other TTs, with 7 corners in the first 5 miles, a fast descent (I hit 40 mph on it), and a small hill with 2.5 miles to go. Pete's performance was no surprise, since he's one of the best time trialists in Nebraska, but I can attribute the course to my good day. With all of the changes in speed, and the false flats and climb in the second half of the race, it suited my style of riding.

State Time Trial Championship

Thanks to everyone that helped to make the State TT a great success. Pete did a terrific job as promoter, which is a tough (and often thankless) job. The weather broke out perfectly, with no rain lightening or hail. Well, except for the continuous SE cross wind, but you can't have everything. A big shout out to the Creighton student crew recruited by Kirk Peck to help out with monitoring the course and doing all sorts of important small things that makes the race run smoothly.

The team had some nice results as well: Jackie Weires (Women's 40+), Mike Melton (Men's cat 3 50+), DaVonte Vinson (Juniors 10-14), and myself (Men's cat 4 50+) all received State Championship gold medals in our respective classes. The course was difficult with the SE crosswind: riders fought a headwind all of the way out, and did not really receive the full benefit of the tailwind on the way back. The rollers over the final 5 miles really put everyone in the pain cave to finish up the race.

Subaru Cup Day 2

Sunday morning dawned bright and warm with low humidity, as apparently the weather gods had acquiesced to the mountain bike gods request for another day of perfect weather. The short track course was all doubletrack with a pair of modest power climbs. There were some rocks, some sandy sections, some long sweeping high speed turns, and one really sketchy gravel covered sweeper. Cat. 2 was split into 3 heats for the men based on age divisions with my group in the middle of the order.

After the first race finished we scrambled to get a good start position. As we lined it up I got that queasy nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing that right from the start we would hit the opening climb at full gas. Don sent us on our way with the usual spirited “goooooooooooo”, and we all went appropriately ape shit. As we crested the first climb I was sitting right around 4^th or 5^th wheel, and by the time we hit the pavement on the lower portion of the loop I had weaseled my way up to third wheel a few bike lengths behind Bryan Frazier (Wildside Velo) and Jason Ruesch (Rib Mountain Cycles). Jason overcooked the sketchy gravel corner and went down almost right in front of Bryan.

Slightly freaked out, I maneuvered around the down rider and Bryan and I charged to the front. After that it was pretty much a “mano a mano” slugfest. Bryan hammered me for another lap or two before I made a move for the front. I let it all hang out on the climbs, but Bryan hung tough. Eventually I was able to create a little separation and eke out a 5 second gap. I knew I had to keep the pace high and avoid any major mistakes, as one significant bobble would quickly erase the lead. Bryan has been riding really well this season and was 5^th overall in cat 2. at the Trek Big Ring Classic (WORS #3), so I knew he wasn’t going to fade.

With one lap to go I hit the line clinging to a slim lead. As I hammered up the first climb a woman who had been spectating the race whispered “bury yourself”. It was an interesting contrast to the usual cacophony that is present at races. For some reason this got me really fired up. I couldn’t tell how close Bryan was going into the last turn but I was scared as ‘ell that I was going to blow the win on that corner. I slowed down quite a bit and made it clean. As soon as I was clear of the gravel I got out of the saddle and put the power down on the final straight, crossing the line in 1^st, just a couple seconds up on Bryan. In the overall standings my final time was 2^nd overall behind Paul Mumford (Kinky Llama racing) , the guy who had taken the overall win in the XC race the day before (with a ~3 minute margin of victory!).

The 2011 Subaru cup weekend was good despite…or perhaps because of the disappointment endured. I’m a firm believer in the value of experience, and that applies to races where everything goes right as well as to races where everything does NOT go right. So I’ll take the good and the bad from this weekend and consider it a worthwhile experience that will ultimately benefit my racing in the future. Next up is some more local Psycowpath action with the Tranquility/Lewis and Clark stage race weekend followed by a week in Canada for work, and then the Omaha race weekend, where I’m looking forward to racing in the Cat. 4 road race. A big thanks to Emily for being an awesome superfan this weekend.

Subaru Cup Day 1

warning: I wrote this in bits and pieces over the course of the road trip back to Omaha from WI, don't feel obligated to read any or all of it in one sitting :)

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in years of training, racing, and coaching (not necessarily in cycling), it’s that sometimes despite the best preparation there are forces beyond your control whose confluence will derail even the best laid plans. This past weekend of racing was a nice reminder for me that the glory we seek in racing is both accentuated and tempered by occasional disappointment.

I went into this race weekend on a mission. I wanted a top 5 overall placing and an age group win in the massive cat. 2 Legacy XC field, and I was looking for a win in the Impreza short track as well. I’ve never had such a good base going into a competitive season for cycling, and I was ready to test my mettle against some of the top cat. 2 competition in the midwest. After a fairly successful early season campaign in the Nebraska Lottery Psycowpath Series, I figured I had enough fitness and experience that these were realistic goals.

Our travel to the race went smoothly, and we arrived at Mt. Morris (a bit of a misnomer, but Hill Morris doesn’t have the same ring to it) on Friday afternoon for a couple of pre-ride laps. The course was a nice mix of power climbs and semi-technical sections including some nice rock gardens, rooty sections, a few steep drops, and lots of twisty singletrack. The climbing was split between both single and doubletrack sections, so in some areas passing was easy, whereas in others it was pretty much impossible. I came away from the pre-ride feeling good. The course was favorable for strong climbers, and none of the technical sections were difficult or scary enough to force any kind of selection. I was confident I could stay reasonably close to the better descenders in the woods.

The Cat. 2 Legacy XC field was split into two races that were slated for early morning start times on Saturday. The juniors, women, single speeders, and 19-29 age groupers were in the first race, and the 30+ riders were in the second race. Since my racing roomie Tim was in the SS class we had to show up early to have him ready for the 8 a.m. start time. I bummed around for a while and walked the leadout to solidify my strategy for the first segment of the race. The leadout itself was a wide grassy doubletrack with two solid power climb segments separated by a winding grassy descent. I was relieved that there was ample space to allow me to get to the front before we dropped into the singletrack should the start not go as planned.

I got in a solid 30 minute warm up on some beautiful country roads and made sure that I got my ass to the start area early enough to secure a spot on the line. Because WORS races are so big, the sport and comp. races (both subsets of Cat. 2 ) are started in age-class specific waves. For the Subaru cup the normal sport or comp. distinction was discarded and all of the cat. 2 riders were combined and sent off by age group. Upon arriving at the start area I was dismayed to see that our age class was LAST in the starting order. We would have to sift through all of the slower riders in the waves preceding us as the faster riders in the other waves raced ahead with nothing but open trail ahead of them.

The start was the usual flurry of grunting and elbows. The lead group got out pretty hard, but I was able to work my way up to second wheel behind Kurt Schwiesow (Tower Clock Eye Center) by the time we hit the first section of singletrack. As soon as we rounded the corner and dropped in, we came to a screeching halt. I looked up to see a line of riders, many walking their bikes, extended before us for a long ways. I immediately realized that this would make winning the overall title for cat. 2 (based on time) pretty much impossible. Damn, I forgot about this aspect of WORS races! Things eventually got going again, and most of the rest of lap one was a sketchy game of cat and mouse as I tried to stay on Kurt’s wheel while we both made quick passes when an opening presented itself. At some point he got a little too hasty in his attempts at passing and crashed not far in front of me, vaulting me into the lead. Sweet, I’ll take that.

It wasn’t long before we were back together, and he eventually jumped around again with a tricky but well executed pass as we started to hit traffic from a previous wave. After coming around a sharp blind turn I found myself in alarming proximity to a slower moving rider. I feathered the brakes and leaned inside to pass. Unfortunately the rider behind me chose to follow my line…without the slowing down part. He ran directly into me taking us both down in a tangled mess. In most crash situations you can get up quickly and get your bike rolling again within about 30 seconds assuming there is no damage to you or your bike. In this case though, the overtaking rider had managed to nicely wedge my pedal into his spokes. It was a major pain in the ass to get the two bikes untangled and cost us not only a couple minutes time wise but also a loss of many positions. All of those hard won passes earlier in the race were effectively erased.

This unexpected handicap kind of took the wind out of my sails for a bit, but I quickly decided to claw back as many positions as I could. After all I didn’t come all this way to DNF or mail it in. After re-combobulating my bike, I re-mounted and proceeded to scrap for every place I could get. After a valiant but ultimately futile effort, I finished 5^th in my race (~2.5 min down on the winner) and about 40^th (out of ~220 total) overall in cat. 2. I know there wasn’t much I could do to change how things turned out, but I was still really disappointed. I’ve been looking forward to this race for a year, and this was not the way I envisioned things playing out. I know that’s how racing goes sometimes, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow.

We spent the rest of the day “superfanning” for the cat. 1 and pro races. It was awesome seeing the stars of the sport duke it out on a tough course, and I was able to put off the boo-hooing for a while and just have fun. That evening in our hotel room I got back to some proper moping as I rolled my 5^th place medal over and over in my hands. After a thorough self-pity session I made a firm resolution to kick some ass in the short track race the next day and retired for the night.

(to be continued...)

Valet Veloer

Another Velo First!


Hey,

I had the honor of being the very 1st ever officially recognized biker to take advantage of Omaha Bikes valet parking at the College World Series. Witness the #1 valet ticket that Julie has given to me. She didn't know to whether to give me one or two valet tix since I broke out the 1960 Huffy Daisy tandem. Dig the cool Reds attire too.

The Main Event

Hey Team,

Are we ready to rumble? Saturday is the Main Event. Steel cage death match. The Nebraska State TT race, which our club hosts. Some notes. Feel free to race instead of volunteer if you are on the fence. We have lots of volunteers lined up courtesy of Veloer Kirk Peck's Creighton connections. 20 something Creighton students are coming to man the intersections, the turn around points, and be a vocal force during podium presentations.

Things you can do to help: Come. Recruit other bikers you know to register. Bring coolers with ice, and bottled water. Bring some brooms to brush the road. Bring bungee cords to batten down banners. Chairs, umbrellas, cowbells, noisemakers, etc.

Veloer Christyn Stumps is making 4 loaves of banana bread. Make some vittles of your own and throw them into the kitty.

Any photographers out there?

The weather is looking good. Volunteers show up around 830 AM. Racers will launch at 930 AM.

Operation Subaru Cup-Engage!

This past weekend was the Nebraska state championship mountain bike race at Ponca State Park. A small but strong and good looking crew of Velo Veloce/Greenstreet riders made the trek up to Ponca for this Pyscowpath classic. Todd Eyeberg and I contested the Cat. 2 open race while Dave Randleman opted to increase his hipster cred on the single speed. For me it was an opportunity to add an off-road state title to my resume, and to earn some redemption after bungling the Cat. 2 race at Platte River last month. I raced well at Ponca last year, and was looking forward to the punishing climbs and flowy singletrack again this year. Going into the race I wanted to simulate what things would be like at the Subaru Cup next week.

The Subaru Cup is one of the bigger if not the biggest cross country oriented mountain bike events in the Midwest. For the second year in a row it is a stop on the USA Cycling Pro XCT, as well as serving as the midwest regional mountain bike championships for the XC, short track, and super D events.

My plan going in was to get out hard and try for the holeshot. Ponca has a fast flat/downhill lead-out and I figured it would require a lot of steam to get to the front. After going over it a few times prior to race time I opted to eschew my big ring and avoid the risk of a shifting error or chain suck just prior to entering the singletrack. My feeling was that the course at Ponca didn’t really allow a lot of room for passing and so getting stuck further back than 3^rd wheel entering the singletrack climb would be a tactical mistake for me. Similarly, the lead out at Subaru Cup bottlenecks quickly and being at the front is advantageous.

As the starters whistle blew I got off to good enough start, but was a few wheel lengths behind Ian Robertson, a Cat. 2 roadie riding for Flatwater Cyling. I haven’t raced Ian before and didn’t really know who the heck he was, only that he was in front of me and going fast. I expected some pressure from the usual suspects; Kevin Bratetic, Monte Bonin, Ryan Van Houwelling and Steven Mongeon, but I wasn’t certain what kind of a threat this guy presented.

I settled for second wheel going into the singletrack and tried to gradually move my way up to get on Ian's wheel. Just past the first road crossing there is a short quick descent that funnels into a hard uphill left turn. Ian botched the turn, causing me to nearly ride straight up his back. We got going again and I stayed more or less right on his wheel up the next set of steep climbs. After we crested and the trail opened up a bit I didn’t hesitate and went around. I’m not sure exactly how long he stayed with me, but I felt like I was alone before we hit the next road crossing.

Heading into the third lap, my lovely superfan girlfriend Emily informed me that the gap back to the next rider was about 30 seconds. I couldn’t see or hear anyone behind me in the switchbacks, but I had to trust what she told me. I figured 30 seconds was not a comfortable enough cushion with a lap to go, especially if I crashed or had a minor mechanical. I pinned it on the power climbs and rode steady in the flats and downhill sections, keeping a little in reserve in case I got pulled back in by anybody.

I caught my favorite Polish pirate (‘the dread pirate Doloto’) just before the first road crossing, which strangely enough was EXACTLY where I caught up to him last year. We rode together and pondered the significance of this coincidence for a brief bit before exchanging pleasantries and parting ways. The rest of the race consisted of shredding sweet singletrack and was otherwise uneventful. Crossing the line with a finger in the air was sweet, sweet goodness! I took a moment to savor the victory and appreciate all of the things that came together to make for a successful race.

All things considered it was a good haul for the VV crew as Randleman took first in the SS class while VV/Greenstreet group ride regular Doug Reid was second (hey Doug, you need a jersey? hint hint). Todd wasn't super pleased with his race but still managed 9th out of 18 in the Cat. 2 open race. Post race socializing was fun as usual and the EVCC crew was burning burgers on the grill to keep our spindly bike racer bodies from wasting away to nothing (thanks EVCC!).

This week will bring to a close my early season training, and I think my preparations for the Subaru Cup have progressed well. I should be in good form for the big dance, but I’m not exactly sure where I fit in in a race this deep. The last WORS race this season had almost 350 guys (!!) in cat. 2 split between sport and comp classes. At the Subaru cup the cat. 2 races will be split according to age, with the 39 and under in one race, and the masters, juniors, ss, and clydes in the other. I get a little nervous thinking about the size of the race, but at the same time I recognize THAT IS WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR! So bring it WORS, it’s time to see what we’re made of.

Subaru Cup Video Remix Finalist - Martin Tank II from Team WORS on Vimeo.