Like I mentioned, personal pursuits and otherwise have kept me from maintaining a semblance of proper training for racing. While I love racing, it’s not the sole reason I ride — in fact it’s kind of secondary. Anyway, the Glencoe Grand Prix is a great event and a crit I plan to continue racing in every year — regardless of my fitness, etc. (unless I become dangerously out of shape).

Yesterday’s event was, again, run superbly. Every volunteer, official, etc was really cool (they we’re probably actually very hot) and helpful. Everything within their control, IE: not the weather, was great. All that was left for me was to have a good race. Well…

While I know that my fitness is not its best right now, outside of training with power, there’s really no way of determining just how much of a downturn I’ve taken without testing myself. The scale let me know I’ve gained ten pounds — that’s about all the measurement I’ve got to work with. So, on the hottest day of the year, I lined up with about 50 other racers, soon to find out just how out of shape I’d become.

Not ideal conditions to do so. I was more frightened about this race than any in a while. The course is a great one, but pre-race I honestly felt like I could be a liability. I hadn’t raced a criterium in close to three months and I was out of shape I honestly did not know what to expect of myself.

While you could pedal through three of the four corners, there was immediately a ton of braking going on in each. I found myself towards the back of the pack and with each l corner it became a bit more difficult to stay on. There were a few laps that I solidified a middle position, but more times than not I was dangling off the back. Then I got dropped. My only goal was to not let this happen, but there was no way around it. I felt like garbage and rightly so.

Quite a few others we dropped before me — and there was some work in vain done by myself and a few other to bridge/keep from getting lapped, but at the bell I looked back to see the break and the peloton chasing closely behind. I promptly pulled myself for a DNF as to not pose a threat to the field.

Most of my surprises, though, were pleasant ones; that my base fitness is still there for the most part, that handling and pack riding are still strong points of mine and that I can still recover very easily after hard workouts — it’s the intervals that I’m not doing that effect the opposite of that though… It really makes me think about shifting focus next year… we’ll see. Congrats to Tom MacNeill-Zimmerman on his podium in the men’s 5! Also to Stanley Sterlinski for 6th place in our race (men’s 4) and the rest of the team that braved the humidity!

Hanging out for the remaining races was a blast — after I attempted to “cool down” with some fluids. The women’s 1/2/3 race in the rain was awesome to see. And, as I’ve said before, just hanging out at the event was nothing but a good time. The only bummer was I broke another rear wheel on my ride home. I’ve broken four so far this year. Wow!

I gotta get fast (maybe lose the ten lbs.?) and get a wheel sponsor… Check out some great photos from teammates/friends of the team.

Just a few months ago marked the beginning of my new existence as a bicycling-blogger. While this and the number of posts here may state otherwise, it was on an autumn trip to Whitewater, Wisconsin that the wheels began turning – so to speak. In order to delve into the world of bicycles, beyond my own riding/racing of them, I took a tour of the Trek factory to see their American-made bike operations first hand.

Upon entering the facility, I was not immediately impressed. I paged through product catalogs and noted bikes I liked. There was also a custom-painted Madone on the wall, but other than that I remained collected. I then met our tour guide, Juan Nava, put on some goggles and walked through the door.

I was not 15 feet onto the factory floor before the awe set in. I have never owned a Trek, but I do own a set of Bontrager Race Lite wheels. The production of these, and other models, was the first stop on the tour. Bontrager is the component brand of Trek and I was to learn that the wheels that carry that name were made, by hand, in-house. This explained why I’ve been able to race, train and commute on my Race Lites without the need for any major truing for thousands of miles.

The care taken and the precision of the manufacturing process was not only dedicated to wheels. The Whitewater plant is also where all the high-end Madone (road race bikes) and Fuel (mountain/cross country) bikes are assembled. It was abundantly clear to me at this point that Trek is dedicated to excellence in the United States. The bikes that Levi Leipheimer and Alberto Contador rode in and won the Tour of California and the Tour de France were assembled there. I got a few chills thinking about that.

I’ve always sought to ride American-made frames whenever possible, and the Bontrager parts I happened to own were just parts – until that day last fall. Upon taking this tour I gained a new perspective, as I thought about how Trek made their way from a small garage with a few people to the Whitewater facility and places beyond – including retail locations. I have had great experiences at their South Loop location when I needed to replace other Bontrager components. Even Juan, our guide, was an enthusiastic mountain bike racer, so it all began to fall into place – Trek cares about bikes as much as I do, so it was time for me to write about it.

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