My Yearly Reminder

Each year I do the same thing, I race one or two crits, and each year I tell myself I am done with crit racing. I think it comes down to me feeling that when racing mtb. or cross and I do something stupid causing myself to crash I have no one to blame but me, but if another racing does a risky move in a crit and takes me out it really makes me feel like it is not worth the chance of getting hurt. As like past years I was hearing from teammates about all the tough racing and good results they were having this spring and I get psyched up to race around in circles for 45 minutes. Well this year I made it all the way to mid June before giving in. My team was hosting our annual criterium at Sherman Park in Chicago, so I decided to suit up for some Nascar style fun, as well as many hours of volunteering. The weather was looking iffy and up to the start of my race things were dry, unfortunately on the warm up lap the rain started, and by the time the gun went off it was a constant downpour. Luckily Sherman Park is a one mile oval (ie not technical) and the rain really only meant asphalt in the teeth and a dirty bike and uniform to clean. So the race progressed and attacks went and came. I covered some breaks and put in a couple of attacks that lasted about a half lap each, one with 3 or 4 laps to go that might have gone somewhere, but I missed calling out to my teammate that I was bridging and ended up dropping him. By the time he was back on and we got organized we both were hurting and the attempt fizzled. At that point there we 2 laps to go, and I settled back in the pack. I really wasn't planning to contest the sprint so with lap and a half to go I dropped off the pace and my race was done. Not exactly an exciting race report, but what happened next reconfirmed my thoughts on crits. Fifty yards ahead of me I see a couple of guys go down on the left and then the carnage went across the field like a tidal wave. I rolled up to the accident and there were people screaming, riders laying in the street, and bikes tangled together. In the end there was plenty of roadrash, a broken collarbone and several busted up bikes. Pure carnage.

This guys Cannondale ended up in three pieces. http://www.velopaint.com/ His wife rushed over and crying and after she realized that he was more or less OK, she handed me his business card, half joking saying that if I buy a painting he could afford a new bike. The paintings really are pretty cool, so take a look, and help him buy a new bike.