Time on My Side?

I have been a tad depressed lately. After the crash at the Vernon Hills Grand Prix, I have been mentally "spooked" at racing.

Memorial day weekend, I did the Friday night road race, Wapello, IA to Burlington, IA. I was fast, aggressive, chased down breaks, got in three separate breaks (that went no where) etc. But I was there, and making moves. My teammates, Robo & the man "Who's On The Job", M.Shea rode great as well. They are both older than I, a lot faster, and a LOT tougher.

I got stuck in the field, about 2 rows back with 6 miles to go, so I took a "small" chance. I skipped over the center line, advanced to the front, and immediately got DQ'd from Bart, the referee on the motorbike. Dang! Oh well, you play, you pay. There was a sprint, some guy won, and we averaged 26.7 mph. That's racing.

Two days later, I did the Muscatine Criterium, which I won in 2004, before being creamed by a Buick. Screaming downhill, hit a speed bump, go air-borne, then up hill for 3 blocks. Do this 18 times. Pretty simple, right. Well, I hit the downhill in 5th place, and RODE the brakes the whole way down, freaked out! Now, 70th place, and chasing back on. You know the story, after 6 laps of doing this, I was off the back, sucking wind, and finally pulled by the referee.

The next day, Rock Island Criterium, which I won in 2004 also, before getting creamed by the same Buick noted above. It started raining about 15 minutes before the race. Pavement wet, 70 guys on the line, 8 turns per lap. Riding cautiously, I hit a man hole cover on the first lap, turn 5, and the front end loses it a little. Race over. Brain checked out. Done. Rode 8 laps solo, then pulled. Man, that was a waste of a good warm up. Head is not in the game. Just kept thinking of crashing, crashing and crashing. Tons of head trash up there.

I consulted with the president of my fan club, and alter ego, Edgar. He said to get back on that horse, and keep going! Thanks Edgar, you're the best.

Taking Edgar's advice, and against advice from all who know me, I decided to do a road race yesterday, the O'Fallon Grand Prix, O'Fallon, IL.

The race was a 70 miler, which is a little long for me, plus I am not a good road racer, but Edgar told me I had to do it, or else! (Or else what? You're a turtle. What'cha gonna do, spit lettuce on me?) So I did. There was about 40 guys in the field, there were short "power hills" and one long little ring hill about 1800 meters before the finish. The two real descents were 40 mph of a little scary for me, but I did them. I rode defensibly, ie: near the back, and just wanted to race, stay up right, and finish in a respectable manner.

First lap was smoking fast, second lap was OK, third lap, nine guys were off the front in three separate breaks, including my teammate Justin-Time. He went solo, with 8 miles to go, on a whim. Knowing there was 8 guys up there, what the hey? I finished with the field for a respectable 14th place. Justin-Time rode through the two breaks in front of him, caught the lead group of 6 off the front, and went through them for a sprint 3rd place finish. Awesome! That's why his name must be Justin-Time, I guess. He threw caution to the wind, and the hammer down on the race, and it paid off. I am getting back, head wise I believe.

Edgar said it's going to take time, and if that's what it takes, so be it.