Due to the recent lack-of-posting, I'm going to attempt a two-fer. Yes, two posts in one day.

So I'm doing Tour of Ohio, and so far the courses have been absolutely awesome. Day one "prologue" crit course was hard, technical and excellent. The Queen stage road race was amazing. Our out and back road race yesterday was also super cool. Each day I finish and say to myself: "that was really fun". This is something that has been lacking in racing recently, and I'm really enjoying myself.

Anywho, since a man in blue boxers really wants to go for a recovery ride right meow, I'll bullet out a quick recap:

"Prologue" Crit: The race was hard from the gun, and I had a good start spot. I attacked lots, snagged some sprint points, and finished up in 8th; 3rd in a sprint behind a break of 5. It's a little frustrating, as I was off the front in moves most of the race, but missed the winning one. The Knappster came in right behind me, and Mr. Big Watts was one ahead--thus getting him the Red Collegiate Jersey. I was close to nabbing the sprint jersey, but got worked over pretty good by Hayden Godfrey with two turns to go on the final point sprint.

Stage 2: Hocking Hills Road Race, the Queen stage of Tour of Ohio. This was a phenomenally awesome course--I had a ton of fun just racing on it. Once again, I was super active all day, but missed the move. Damnit. I feel strong; and am able to "smash faces" (or so is the phrase of the week), but I just keep missing the important moment. Not sure what my deal is. With about 4-5 miles to go I started to feel the cramps. Then they hit really hard. I guess that is the result of a 70 mile road race with no feeds. I rolled in with the front group, almost completely locked up.

Stage 3: Gambier-Coshocton-Gambier Road Race. Wow, crazy. Started hard and fast, break went, and I was attacking to bridge when my chain got wrapped the wrong way around my derraileur, and nearly sent me flying off my bike. Unable to get things back in place, I had to stop and get help from neutral. Once all fixed, I was dragged back up to the field. Ouch. Chilled out in the field a bit, and watched the break with Isaac Neff come back to the field on the 1st KOM. Shortly thereafter, I fired off an attack and got in a move of ~8 guys. We did not work too well together, but still were out there for a long long time. I took the mid race sprint point and cash, which was pretty cool, and that put me into the green jersey. Sweet. A huge crash just before the minute long climb to the finish nearly killed me, but despite riding a nose wheelie for 15 feet, I was able to ride through blown riders for twenty-something place--I was just trying to avoid losing time on GC. The Knappster avoided the crash and killed it for 2nd. That stud.

The most hilarious and ridiculous thing to happen all week was while fighting for a spot on the back of a leadout train yesterday. Some TargetTraining rider felt that the best way to defend his spot was to pinch and claw at those taking his wheel. He literally grabbed my bicep with his finger nails and dug in. What the hell? Words were exchanged, and being the manly man that he was he said he would "Fucking dig his nails in harder next time". If I see him today, I'll let him know that if he touches me ever again, I'll knock him off his bike. I should take pictures of the cat scratch I got on my arm. It's hilarious. Never seen anything quite like that before in a race.

Ok, that's enough for now. Off to (sic) defend a green jersey. Don't think I ever thought I'd say that.

Well, it's been a while--mostly because I'm lazy, but also because I don't really have a whole lot of cool news to speak of. The last month in bullets:

-I have sweet friends/family. New car (Thanks Dad!), iPod Shuffle (Thanks Craig!), Sweet-ass-big-mans-gear 55T Chainring (Thanks 'Druber!), an awesome set of Race X Lite Tubulars (Thanks Ebert!), and last but not least, I got to return from Collegiate Nats with 40 oz. of Olde English waiting (Thanks Dr. Kimberley!)

-I raced my bike once or twice. Been feeling mega strong, but can't seem to get in the move that I want be in each race. I did enjoy being able to be a team player at Tour of Winghaven where I gave a wheel to a teammate in contention for the vee. That's about all I have as far as bike racing. Lot's of so-so results.

-I've been slowly moving out of Champaign. Soon I will be in Bloomington IN, the apparent center of the cycling universe.

Ok, that's enough for this post.

There is a decent amount of pride taken in driving a break to its eventual victorious finish in front of a pack. I've been there, I've driven it. I've also been the wheelsucking ill-respected deebag sitting at the back of the break. Generally speaking though, I take pride in being the hard-man, the headbanger, the nutcase-off-the-front.

But sometimes, there are situations where driving a break is just stupid. Let's look at two incidences from this weekend, at Wheels on Willy:

Early in the race, I'm alone in a large group of 8 or so guys. Three of which are Bianchi GP. No matter how much a certain brash 19 year old cusses at me and flips the bird, I'm not going to drive the break. Sorry; I’m not feeling the 3 on 1 love.

Similarly, in a break of 5 independents (including Mr. Big Watts National Kilo Champ, and Mr. Jittery-Joe's-win-field-sprints-at-SuperWeek) with two of the largest teams at the race (Bianchi GP and ISCorp) not in the break, you won’t be seeing Le TSK head-banging it along—it’s just not smart.

I'll admit, I've never been so embarrassed finishing a race. I knew I'd feel that way at the end too. There’s shame in sitting on a break. It's not like I couldn't have pulled; Mr. Big Watts said it himself "John you were probably the strongest guy in the break, and you were sitting on." When you have a team that you take pride in, and teammates that you don't want to let down you race to win. Period. Sometimes it takes more pride to sit on. I sucked it up and sat on because it was the smart thing to do.

Have faith, if you ever see me sitting on a break, it's probably because it's not a real brilliant tactical move to be driving it.

Alternatively, if you see me head-banging off the front, I'd appreciate a cheer: It's hard work out there.

I had a painful race at Monsters of the Midway this weekend. I didn't feel very good on the line, so I figured I'd give it some gas from the gun to blow out the cobwebs a bit.

I ended up out there solo for a couple laps, and shortly thereafter, a group meandered up to me with two of my teammates. Not bad.



That move wasn't going fast enough, so I attacked that group too. Little did I know, I was in for another 30 minutes of solo misery:



I thought for sure someone would eventually come and join me, but no such luck. It ended up OK though:



Youch, that hurt. It was interesting listening to the crowd as the race went on. The break started with somber stares. People are thinking "Who's this wanker attacking from the gun?" Then as I was out there for a while, I converted one or two into believers: "Don't give up!!!" ... Then I was out there for a long while, and I hear the most glorious cheer: "38 seconds and rising" ... Soon enough, every 50 yards someone was screaming my name. Cool!

I gotta say though, there are less painful ways to win races!

It is with great sadness that I must bid the collegiate racing scene adieu. Lots of friendships and fond memories were formed, and I will dearly miss the tight knit, laid back atmosphere. I really believe that there is no better way to get into racing--the collegiate scene is a phenomenally welcoming place for those new to the sport and the collegiate racers are the coolest bunch racing bikes. Fortunately, I still get to race against a good number of them on a regular basis.

Before I get on to the Nats recap, I'd like to make my collegiate "Top Picks" for the next year(s). Every year the conference has a few surprises as new talents come to the fold and really kick some tail. Well, I'm going to take away the surprise. Of a huge wealth of talent in the conference, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Sophomore Will Nowak and Freshman Ren-Jay Shei are two boys to watch. They will win some races, and one of them will probably win the conference overall. You watch.

Ok, Nationals. Myself and Brett Stewart had the luxury of showing up to Fort Collins a full week ahead of nationals. An ex-local of the U of I campus, Richard Cavendish (no relation to Marky Mark) happened to live within a couple miles of our hotel--nice! Richard did an amazing job of making me feel like a local. I knew every turn and every climb of the road course by Saturday, and it was entirely due to Richard. He even whipped up a tasty meal for Brett and me. If only bike racing in foreign land was always this comfortable! Richard also showed us some of the local routes, and I got to haul my fat-ass up to about 8000 feet of elevation. That's right; flatlander TSK got to climb a real 30+ minute climb. It was very fun, and the 50+MPH descent wasn't too shabby either.

The road race itself was an interesting one. It was held on a BEAUTIFUL course with some tough climbs at the beginning and again at the end. I watched Devon Haskell destroy the competition in her D2 race, and sipped on a Red Bull as I shivered, hiding from the wind in the back of an IU van. Temps were dropping, the wind was howling, and the course had been shortened due to the threat of snow... wow, this could be miserable.

Luckily, it wasn't. It was probably 70 degrees for the last 2/3 of the race, and sunny to boot. Too bad I carried that rain jacket the whole time--made me look like such a dweeb in all of the pictures.

So the race started pretty furiously, and within 5 minutes we were already climbing. Not just rollers either; we're talking about 5-6 minutes of 39-23, 7-8MPH, 450+ watt misery. By the time 10 minutes were up, the field had been whittled down to 40 riders. Youch; that hurt. Myself, Steve Scholzen, Chris Uberti, and Derek Laan were among the few Midwest guys who got over the top with the lead group. We got over the top, and Steve Scholzen looked over and said "Wow, that hurt". Yes Steve. It did.

Attacks were fired, but no one got away on the following climbs. It was not until the flat loop section that the winning move sneaked away. It was a strange moment in the race--the break had been brought back to 50m. The field slowed down. The break slowed down. The two entities crawled along into the headwind for a minute or two, both thinking the catch was made. It wasn't. Slowly, the gap went back up, and soon the break was out of sight. The race was up the road. Apparently I can only read races when they are written in bold print.

The sprint came, and I screwed it up badly enough to get 24th. Such is life.

The crit was a simple matter of positioning. I got in a couple decent moves that went nowhere--not a surprise considering the wide turns. In the end I went around the last turn in tenth, and that’s where I finished. My boy Will Nowak fell pretty hard during the race, and had to be sent out on a stretcher. Word is that he is doing fine with nothing broken—always good. Other than his crash, and the resulting neutral lap (SCARY) it was a pretty uneventful crit.

So that is the last collegiate recap ever. Kind of sad. The last time I ever raced in an Illinois kit: