2011 Race Reports 1, 2, 3 & 4: The End of My Youth…

2011 Race Reports 1, 2, 3 & 4: The End of My Youth… I lived my 50’s in my twenties (thanks to the heavy training for the Olympics that left me so exhausted I constantly craved sleep and avoided stairways.) Then, I lived my 20’s in my thirties (where I had seemingly endless energy and required very, very little sleep.) Last weekend I confirmed I’ve solidly entered my 30’s in my forties…

Why again, do I race? It is a question worth repeating. In full disclosure I hate most of it: the monotony of training, the pre-race gymnastics – loading up, driving, registering and paying, the pinning of numbers, warming up, lining up… I hate all of it. Even worse is my hate for the first half or even ¾’s of the race – an agonizing, lung shredding celebration of all my weaknesses and incredible pain and lethargy against faster, stronger, and younger men than I with their chrome plated legs bulging with muscles…

But time, time is flexible, and for the sprinter, there comes a few moments where light penetrates the gray haze of the mind numbing training days and racing hours. For a few moments a brilliant pulse of energy comes to neurons, blood, bones: muscles align to provide a glimpse of hope and opportunity. Today – today could be the day where I win, despite the odds and the haze of pain. And in those seconds, we the dormant, we the feeble, encased in the shell of the peleton suddenly thrust through the shroud of the chrysalis and life, color and hope returns to feed the unfolding of our flight.

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The end-of-season races in Grand Rapids included the U.S. Pro Championships and a series of highly competitive categorized races both downtown on the bricks and then in East Grand Rapids in the gentrified “gaslight district.” My plan was to “double up” each day, which would mean racing 4 times in 21 hours.

It was in those 21 hours that the evidence ending my extended youth piled up. It all started with an innocuous phone call “Coyle, want to bunk up for the races in Grand Rapids?” This from Ray Dybowski – the “Godfather” of Michigan cycling and heir apparent to Walden’s coaching legacy. Ray turned 50 today and is still tough as nails often doubling up or even tripling up at races, completing 50 to 60 competitions each summer.

In my mind I pictured a leisurely dinner after the first day of racing, a glass of wine, a luxurious hotel with two queen beds, and a good rest prior to the second day of racing. Then Kroske joined in the group – another Master’s level racer with a strong sprint, great sense of humor, and a ubiquitously available camera. Fantastic I thought – “let’s order a roll-away.”

Then team members “the Rodds” entered the picture – a pair of brothers in their young twenties known for winning races, flashing irresistible smiles to the ladies at every opportunity, a high tolerance for post race libations and little requirement for sleep. This is the beauty of bike racing – age matters nothing, only ability. “I’ll bring my inflatable bed” said Ray. Just like old times…

Saturday:

The day dawned gray-blue and lugubrious and the 4 hour drive to Grand Rapids featured varying speeds of windshield wiper the entire way. Oddly I actually felt a quiver of nerves as I approached the race course, partly due to the inherent danger of racing on wet cobbles, and partly due to built up expectations of delivering results: I had won the last two times racing this event and wanted to do so again.

It was about an hour out from Grand Rapids when the realization that another driver of the empty feeling in my stomach was simple hunger – of course – I would need to eat lunch prior to racing. I swung off the highway and looked at the fast food row dismayed by my options. I tried Wendy’s, pulling through the drive-thru. No, nothing there I can eat. I then followed the signs to McDonalds knowing I could get a yogurt parfait and maybe a grilled chicken salad. The McDonald’s was in a giant Walmart. This Walmart was in the middle of no-where in western Michigan. As I entered the sliding doors to Walmart I had a sudden jolt – everywhere, padding along in flip flops and ill fitting stretchy waistbands were rotund families and individuals who were either eyes down looking into an electronic device, or shoving something unhealthy into their mouths – or both. As I waited in line at the McDonalds it was overwhelming – the sizzle of the fat, the massive sugar laden drinks, the mottled skin, stretchy outfits, and instantaneous entertainment befitting the lifestyles and girths of kings – these were now reserved for those without the money or education to realize what the 24/7 passive entertainment, 2000 calorie, 2000mg of sodium meal was doing to them. I was in an earthbound version of Wall-e and it was no joke.

Chastened I ordered only a yogurt parfait, (king sized, of course w/ a superfries and 64oz Coke), and headed to the car feeling holier than thou while texting Randy and checking weather.

I managed to arrive in time to see the end of the pro race, register, change, AND warmup. It was weird.

It was pure luck – the pro race had been delayed 45 minutes due to a storm that had rolled in and taken out half the field and a number of the barriers. All the extra time made me nervous. Ray remembered to give me a plaque from a few years prior - we thought about replacing my hood ornament:

Race 1: Elite Cat 1/2/3 Temp 68 – 75 degrees, light winds, average speed 27.2mph, Finish  speed 37.8 mph

It was a good thing I warmed up – 100 riders on a still puddled course with 2 sections of cobbles. The pace was high much of the race and I wandered the peleton looking for a comfortable position, suffering immensely. Mid-race the pace was particularly tough and I moved up 20 or 30 spots. A few laps later and I found myself at the back of the pack again - without dropping position - the pace had dropped a number of riders.

As the miles added up and the laps counted down I began to feel a glow of power in my legs and mastery of the bike in the corners that Csikszentmihalyi would describe as “Flow”. With confidence and control I rotated up through the corners, purposely fell back on the short straightaways, and then hit the afterburners down the long homestretch in order to stay connected to the stretched-thin core of the peleton. Each lap we hit 32, 33mph into the slightly uphill stretch on cobbles against a mild headwind. Each time the effort put me at the edge of my aerobic capacity, but instead of fear of getting dropped I recognized in the open mouths and agonized pedal strokes of those around me that for once I wasn’t the one “on the rivet.”

Three laps to go and it was “my time” and I began that odd dance through the swaying peleton that has come to characterize my racing career over the years. Like a highly choreographed dance routine on a ship experiencing high seas, the peleton tends to be predictably scripted in its patterns, with the occasional lurches flashing changes like shoaling fish when a predator appears.

Six men off the front, I read the patterns and flashed left and right when the signals suggested panic and in the space of 2 laps I found myself in the top ten readying for the sprint with much younger, stronger and faster men than myself.

Things then peeled and surged and I lost position again but notched my way back up against ever rising speeds, never falling below 30. On the backstretch of the final lap I burned a match to position back in the top 7 and then followed the leadout machine around the final corner and into the uphill, upwind finish. The resisting elements caused a fanning of riders up front and I rode the drafts and waited, finally hitting the afterburners directly in the slip stream of super-strong Panther rider and former Wolverine Ryan Cross who surged toward the line. I had the advantage of the draft and timing and had hopes of breaking through and winning the field sprint when a breakaway rider appeared directly in my path hurtling backward. I came across the line coasting, hands on the brakes and finished third in the field sprint, 9th overall. I was happy.

Race 2: Masters 35+: Temp 76– 80 degrees, light winds, average speed 26.0mp, finish speed 36.6mph

The lactic acid burden had reached its climax just as I coasted to a stop at the line w/ the Masters. I was in miasma of pain and could barely speak when I found Kroske and Dybo and they unpinned my old numbers and repinned the new ones as I heaved over my bars, finishing the job only seconds before the officials sent us off for race two.

F-ing Masters racers! Never content to settle smoothly into a race, they hit it hard right from the start and it was everything I had to just stay tacked onto the last wheel of the peleton for the first lap. Same for the second. By lap three I started recovering from the intense effort of the prior race, and then things slowed up and I began to enjoy the dance, trading places with Ray on several occasions as he made bold moves up the inside to try and force a breakaway.

Things moved to their inexorable conclusion and I moved up into the top five with one to go. Surges put me back to 12th so I again used a match on the backstretch to slot into 4th – as it turns out, right onto the race winner’s wheel. As we wound around the snaking final corners, I considered an attack into the final two corners, and then watched it happen to me – Switlowski hitting it hard just prior to the final two back-to-back corners. I tried to match and then found myself taken to the barriers by a racer shooting up the inside. Braking into the final corner, I tried to retrieve my speed but found myself only able to hold onto 5th.

Then, the true test of endurance began….

Saturday night:

Kroske, Ray and I planned a nice dinner at the bistro across from the hotel and for a while the older crew held sway – risotto, paella, shrimp and varied libations at an outside table. But Randy and Ryan brought their own energy to the conversation and moments later Randy had convinced the waitress to spoon feed him his food, sitting on his lap.

From there were a series of visits to various Grand Rapids eateries and bars where we watched the younger crew expend their endless social energies.

 At one point we tried to lock Ryan in a Port-o-Pottie but he escaped and tried to force us on to the next stop.

Kroske, Ray and I threw in the towel around midnight and it was only upon returning to the room that I had failed at one of my golden rules – 2 glasses of water for every glass of wine, AND there was a huge inflatable bed between me and the sink to get more water. Chugging some tap water before bed and leaving the 10 oz cup lonely on the bedside table I crashed only to be awakened much later by the returns of Ryan and Randy.

Sunday:

It was a night of awakenings – 5 guys in one room, 2 stragglers returning, and then the need to get up and head to the races.

Dehydration and fatigue are familiar friends – despite feeble attempts to hydrate enroute to my first morning race, I actually felt too tired to drink water. I wondered how I could possibly race feeling hot and dry with a pounding head and queasy stomach, but knew I could – and would.

Cat 3: Temp 74 degrees, light winds, average speed – I forgot to check, finish speed painfully fast.

After arrival at the course came an agonizing tiring string of events – parking, registration, changing, number pinning, and lining up for the first race – sun glaring.  After 3 laps I wanted to quit, not unusual. With 3 laps to go I was chugging the rest of my water and wanted still wanted to quit – highly unusual. Still, as a chessmaster I knew what to do even if my pieces didn’t want to comply and pushed my pawn into position for a checkmate, coming around the final corner in 5th and finishing… 5th. Nothing to give.

 

Masters: Temp 76 degrees, light winds, average speed – I forgot to check, finish speed painfully fast.

The beauty of pre-registration is that it creates a dialectic between laziness and frugality: I had already paid so of course I’d have to start my fourth race in 20 hours. Some additional hydration helped with my motivation as well as energy and despite a faster pace I navigated the laps with little difficulty. In the final sprint I struggled despite a leadout from Kroske and only managed 10th.

After the race I hooked Dybo up with a “5 hour energy” vial and then jumped in the Jaguar for the long drive home.

As always, there was something about the darkening reach of the trees and the end of August light that suggested the closing in of time – that the summer solstice and height of the racing season was well behind me and that try as I might, races to try and win would be far and few. Still, I smiled – what a weekend of intensity, fear, pain, suffering and joy.

I remember reading in one of the many books on “Happiness” about a study on joy. I believe the book was called “Satisfaction”. Specifically, the author entered an experiment where he was subjected to some extended and extensive pain (ice water over his extremities). The interesting outcome was that the neurological response to the end of this programme was exactly identical to that of happiness – and indeed the author experienced a “high” following his ordeal that could only be described as joy.

I guess this is why I race: the extended periods of suffering required for limited periods of joy is a tradeoff I’m willing to make. Corollary: choose your suffering – don’t let it choose you.

 

 

2009 Race Reports 1 - 4, and 2009 Race schedule:

So I've been slacking in many ways - I've now raced 4 times (sort of) and haven't posted a thing.. I haven't finished my tour of Albania from nearly 6 weeks ago, and I haven't figured out what races I'm doing this year... Work has been quite busy.. 2009 Race Report #1: ABR National Master's Championships, Winfield, IL - June 7, 2009

This has to be the most uneventful race of the last few years for me. I planned ahead to do the race, knew my way to the course, got there on time, had money and my license, warmed up properly, made the start line on time, moved through the pack on the final lap, came out of the final corner in decent position and then ended up 3rd in the field sprint, 7th in the race (4 guys off in breaks) and 4th in the Men's 40 master's nationals. Afterward I was changing and missed the podium call, but the real highlight of the race was spending the post-race vibe hanging with fellow Wolverines Maia, Brent, Cruise, and Luke at a local restaurant.

2009 Race Report #2: Sherman Park Criterium - Pro 1/2, Chicago, IL - June 13, 2009

Thwarted twice! Last year I experienced the reverse breakaway where the Triple XXX team practically pushed the field backward from a large breakaway - now this year I missed the start altogether. I had printed out the flyer for this event about a month before and lo and behold, they had changed the time - earlier by 30 minutes. Underestimating Chicago traffic as usual, I arrived after fighting traffic for over 2 hours with only 30 minutes to spare and was devastated to discover that the race just heading from the start line as I stood at registration was MY race. The guy working the registration, when I showed him my flyer with the incorrect time said, "so sorry man - not sure what happened.... Why don't you just jump in on the backside and at least get some laps in..."

So I did - I got my skinsuit on and kept on my number from Winfield and jumped in 10 minutes later on the backside and rode the remaining 70 minutes of the Pro 1/2 race with the medium sized field.  I felt really good but knew I couldn't do anything or sprint for the finish, so as a gesture of defiance, I led out a friend on the backside of the last lap gaining 100m on the field and setting him up for an easy field sprint win - it felt good and I felt good. I skidded to a stop and rode over the grass to my car before the race was over and headed home.

2009 Race Report #3: Tour of America's Dairyland Stage 8: Sheboygan Pro-Am - June 25th

The Sheboygan course looked like candy for my sprinter's sweet tooth, but I had meetings until 5pm on Thursday - or so I thought. Mid-day I realized we would be wrapping up early, and that, if I was out of the office by 2:30, I just might make the start of the big Pro race up in Sheboygan as part of the new "Tour of America's Dairyland" series put on by Tom Schuler and Bill Ochowicz. I sped up 294 and realized a couple things enroute: 1) I didn't have my helmet - I had only planned to ride at Bussy woods, not race, and 2) 294 traffic is horrible right now due to construction.

It took me 3 hours and 15 minutes to make it to the course and I changed in the car enroute. I assembled my bike and sped to registration even as they were doing the pre-race announcements. The reg ladies were awesome and let me just leave my credit card and license to finish up later, and they gave me a number. I stripped off my shirt right there on the sidewalk and put on my number, and then sped around the barriers as they were about to start, casting about for a familiar face. Aha! Mike Beuchel and Kent Savit - I borrowed Mike's sweaty helmet and rode to the line just as they were about to start. I had time to text Jay Moncel and Kelly Patterson that I was lined up next to "tool #1" with his short shorts (an IS guy we like to laugh about) and then we headed off.

The race was fast - we averaged 28.7mph - but my kind of course - I only had to pedal in 10 second spurts, so I never really suffered too much. The last few laps saw leadout men take the helm and it strung out and the draft was hard to find as we screamed around the course at 35, 36, 38mph down the backstretch. I was sitting 15th into the last two corners - the heart of the a!*hole zone but I was unable to get far enough up due to the pace and sure enough, there was a crash in the last corner. I breaked hard and dodged bodies and bikes and gave my remaining effort into resuming speed. I maintained position into the finish line crossing 18th - in the money. I was pretty happy actually considering...

2009 Race Report #4: Tour of America's Dairyland Stage 10 - Downer Avenue, Milwaukee - Masters

I knew I was not ready for the Pro Peleton at Downer Avenue - actually I'm quite sure I'll never race pro there again - the course just does not favor my limited abilities - you have to pedal for more than 10 seconds in a row for god's sake! So I decided to join my cronies in the master's event - including Joe Holmes - friend from Toledo since 1983, Aaron Frahm - fellow Morocco world championships teammate from 1986, veterans Mike Beuchel and Kent Savit, and fellow "Slurpee" - i.e. 7-11 team member Jeff Bradley on the line for the 70 minute event.

Either the pace was not so high, or I'm in better shape that I've been for a while, but I didn't hurt too bad (my cyclometer got bounced around too much and refused to read speed/distance) and found myself a contender for the sprint. I moved up just right and came around the final corner 4th and finished... 4th. Too long a sprint with a slight incline - not the best sort of finish for me. Beuchel was 5th, Frahm was 6th, and Jeff Bradley was 7th, so I was in front of good company... Feeling good about the coming season..

Speaking of which, here's a tentative schedule:

  1. June 7 (complete) ABR National Criterium Championships, Masters: Winfield, IL - 4th place
  2. June 13 (complete) Sherman Park Criterium,  Pro 1/2: Chicago, IL  - missed the start, raced for training and pulled out on the last lap to avoid trouble
  3. June 25 (complete) Tour of America's Dairyland - Pro 1/2: Sheboygan - 18th place
  4. June 27 (complete) Tour of America's Dairyland - Masters: Downer Avenue, Milwaukee - 4th place
  5. July 5, ABR Illinois State Criterium Championships, Wood Dale, IL: Masters 12:30pm, Pro 1/2 3:30pm - 2nd place
  6. July 11, Superweek, Blue Island Pro-am: Pro 1/2 - 5:45pm - 100km - dnf
  7. July 12, Superweek, Elgin Cycling Classic, Elgin, Il: Masters 9:45am - 40 miles - 4th place
  8. July 14, Superweek, Arlington Heights, IL: Masters 12:50pm - 35 miles - 7th place
  9. July 15, Superweek, Bensenville, IL: Masters 12:00pm - 30miles - 9th place
  10. July 19, Superweek, Evanston Grand Prix, IL: Pro 1/2 5:30pm - 100km
  11. July 23, Superweek, Racine: Masters - 12:35pm - 35 miles
  12. July 24, Superweek, Kenosha Pro-Am: Pro 1/2 - 5:30pm - 100km
  13. July 26, Chicago Criterium - Grant Park - Masters 12:05pm, Pro-Am, 2:15pm
  14. August 1, Elk Grove Criterium #1 - Cat 1/2: 1:45pm, 70k
  15. August 2, Elk Grove Criterium #2 - Masters 10:30am
  16. August 8, Grand Rapids Cycling Classic - Masters and Pro 1/2  (tbd)
  17. August 15, Downers Grove Nationals: Masters 4:10pm, Cat 1/2 7:10pm
  18. August 16, Downers Grove Nationals: Cat 2, 10:00am
  19. August 30, Windsor, Canada: Tour de Villa Italia Pro Am, 5:00pm 100km

2008 Race Report #18: Downer Avenue Revisited

Race Report #18 – The Last Ride of the RV: Superweek Stage 16, Downer Avenue, WI, Sunday, July 20. Category: Masters.  Weather: 75 degrees, light winds. Course: flat, 1 mile/lap, 3 corners

Yes, sad but true, this was to be the last ride of the RV. Now in its 4th season it has been both a blessing and a curse – at its best it remains a chrysalis for the tender wings of new experiences and burgeoning friendships. At its worst it has been a hole to throw money in.

Since it was at Downer Avenue that the RV first found its wings a few years prior, it was only appropriate to leverage its charms for one last time in the same location.

Driving the RV

 

From that same race report in 2006, here’s a quick description of the vehicle:

A little about the RV… well… it is “retro.” Meaning “old.”  It is a 1988, 28 foot Georgie Boy Cruise Air II. It is replete with wall to wall brown shag, mauve couches and seats, and faux wood paneling tables and real wood paneled kitchen cabinets. It has 3 beds and comfortably sleeps… well, 3. The exterior is a taupe fiberglass box with the horizontal ridges so typical of the era. It has a working stove, microwave, TV, AC, generator, hot water heater, coffeemaker, bathroom with toilet and sink, shower with hot water, fridge, freezer, CD player and VCR. The entire 10,000lb vehicle has a blue book value only slightly more than my 16 lb Italian, hand-painted carbon fiber bicycle balanced delicately on the rack on the back.  

 

equal value

 There is some sort of weird credibility in that juxtaposition… Yes, I get a lot of jealous looks from the other cyclists as they pile into their cramped team vans or other tiny vehicles. Cyclists typically have a keen retro whimsy. I recently added some vintage looking throw rugs from Target to spice up the interior and now it almost looks 1988 – even 1989.

Until this year I really didn’t have to do any maintenance, but now I’m thinking of upgrading – but on the other hand, it only has 31,000 miles on it…. I admit it, I love my second home – even though I keep forgetting to deduct it on my taxes…

Gary and I circled Downer Ave and found a spot after avoiding the ubiquitous “No Parking” signs posted for the race. I got a ticket anyway and I’m still fighting it with the city of Milwaukee…

The race the next day was not particularly noteworthy – it was a suffer-fest that I did not enjoy and without the panache of racing with the pros was hardly worth all the pain. I ended up 18th – last spot in the money (vs. last year where I was the first spot out of the money).

The only notable occurrence happened coming into turn 2 on the bell (final) lap. We were lined up single file and I was in about 10th place in perfect position. As we headed into the 120 degree turn, I suddenly saw a rider shoot up the inside and dive into the turn in a trajectory that could only carry him to intersect directly with the riders right ahead of me. This wasn’t a suble “slotting in” move like I used in Bensenville, it was a last ditch reckless maneuver that had only two possible outcomes –either the riders entering the corner on the normal wide-to-tight trajectory would have to brake and head for the curb, or there would be an ugly crash.

The reason this move was significant was because it was performed by none other than “Steve” – the same gentleman from the Racine race that had so aggressively closed the door on me into a mild bend on the backstretch and then blamed me for it…It was probably a good thing I wasn’t in the group of riders in his path – they swung wide and braked near the curb and all us following did the same as Steve careened around the corner and continued on his way.

If I had been… well, there’s no telling what my response would have been. Either way I consider the Racine debate closed : )Finally it was time to spread the RV’s wing one last time – directly after the race I took the gallon water bottle I had set out on the bumper to heat for “shower” water (keep in mind the pump had stopped working – so no water pressure) and enjoyed a hot shower. After toweling off and pulling on some clothes from the closet I exited the RV and extending the massive yet delicate awning off the side of the vehicle. Unraveling the RV

 

 

 I then collected my check and added it to my little pile.

Superweek Winnings

 

And now it was time to enjoy the fruits of suffering: we were parked one block from the start/finish line of the single best spectator race in the United States and party central was open for business.

Gary and I ran to the Sendiks market to pick up fresh produce and the ingredients for an excellent meal – chicken breasts, pancetta, fragrant fresh basil, olive oil, yellow onion, Pecorino Romano cheese, and vine ripened tomatoes.  We also picked up items for an appetizer: walnuts, prosciutto, honey, grapes, smoked Gouda and Edam cheeses.

I began cooking inside while Gary grilled the chicken outside. We sent Dave Dohnal to get water and a few other items and as the Pro race started, appetizers were served.

 

Appetizers

 

Already we were joined by a few old and new faces. Kelly Patterson and her husband Jay Moncel materialized during the masters race and encamped by the RV. Dave Dohnal joined Gary to jeer me on at the same time. Later other faces old and new were to join us as well.

As the pro race kicked off, I prepared to enter the ‘kitchen’ and prepare a big meal, but first I stood outside and watched the first few laps of the single hardest race I have ever finished the previous year (see 2007 race report # 14 ) In one lap the 180 rider field had strung out over the entire 1/3 mile finish stretch, and by lap 3 it had already become the single file death march that I had experienced last year.

It was exhilarating to witness the race back from the safety of the curb again – I had had some consideration of attempting it again despite the fact that it was exactly counter to my strengths, but upon witnessing the thrashing of the field and the drawn faces gasping for air after only 3 laps I was suddenly filled with joy, and as they rolled around, the words practically exploded from my mouth, “Welcome to SUFFERING boys!” as Jay (who had suffered through it the prior year with me) and Kelly began to laugh.

 

Toasting the suffering

 

I boiled the 4 lbs of fresh tomatoes for a minute, peeled the shiny fragile skin off, and then crushed the red fragile meat in a bowl before adding them to the pot on the propane burner. I sliced the onions and chopped the pancetta and browned both in the sizzling olive oil, as the whole RV began to smell like a fine Italian restaurant.

 

Preparing a great meal

 

I separated the leaves and stems of the basil and grated the salty tangy Pecorino Romano as Gary sliced the tender chicken breasts and wrapped it in foil in prep for the final presentation.

 

As the race continued we all sampled the prosciutto/honey/walnut/grape/Gouda/Edam appetizer plate and the Italian wines we had picked up from Sendicks. Kelly was every gregarious and funny and Jay proved to be her match with quick wit and clever humor. Dave played his usual sarcastic foil and Gary was his usual self as the conversational engine should there be a lull.

We laughed and talked and ate and watched the race inside and outside the RV until the tomato mixture reached its earthy textured half cooked/half fresh perfection. I then added the fresh and fragrant basil leaves, several dashes of Kosher salt and then we spooned it over the penne pasta cooking on burner 3, topping it off with the steaming grilled chicken and grated pecorino cheese. Gary helped me deliver plates around, and then after a second boiling of pasta I delivered foil covered bowls to Jose in the race pits, and to Eddy Van Guys in the announcing booth.

Jose and a Rock Racing bike

Freshly poured wine in cups all around we settled in, ate, and ate some more and watched the exciting finish of the race as Williams from Rock Racing repeated Rashaan Bahatie’s performance from last year winning a prime over $8000 and then retiring off the back.

We then wandered over to the start/finish to watch the awards ceremonies and along the way we ran into “Toolbox #1” an IS Corp racer that Kelly had developed a personal irritation with who also happened to have a rather unfortunate habit of wearing skinsuits either too short for him or that he intentionally scrunched up. Kelly wedgied up her shorts and rolled them under and then sauntered by as Jay tried to distance himself but Toolbox #1 failed to notice and we moved on to say hello to Jose in the wheel pit and many other familiar faces.

Toolbox #1

 

Toolbox Groupie

An aside – perhaps during the Tour de France you might have seen a long commercial (a “sixty” as its called in the biz) for Trek featuring a series of athletes on bikes of all ages and ending with Lance saying, “we believe… in bikes.”  Well at about 35 seconds into the commercial, the VO (voice over) says, “We believe in firsts…. And lifestyles that last” showing a young boy learning to ride quickly followed a very fit older man with triathalon numbers on his arms riding a triathalon bike.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlH5I2IzRNc]

Well, in the small world of cycling, this older, fit gentleman turns out to be Gary’s wife’s uncle (does that make him an uncle-in-law?) and was at the Downer Avenue race watching. He joined us for a period in the RV and was a joy to speak with.

Trek Commercial Stud

I ended up talking with Eddy Van Guys while he ate dinner with his family, meeting his lovely wife and daughter and revisiting with his son who I had met a year prior. His daughter was preparing to enter college and I offered my services to help her make her selection – (that offer still stands Eddy.)

On the way back to the RV we chatted with Ben Renkema, Andy Crater and Olu and then we brought Brenda and Chris along back to the RV where we all imbibed too much wine and laughed and talked until well after midnight.

Ben Renkema

At some point I walked outside the RV and took one final picture to recognize the important role it has played over the past couple of years in creating memorable “really living” experiences.

Jose the 'wheel god'

With a bit of a deja-vu I retired to my feather bed in the back remembering, “Oh man, I’ve got the first inaugural Chicago Criterium tomorrow – that’s going to be really hard – and I forgot to drink water in addition to wine…”

I’d pay for that the next day.. but that’s another story…

-John

 

 

 

 

Andy Crater