Le Tour de Sainte Genevieve

Another one's in the books. Saint Genevieve was host to the Missouri state road championships today. The location was great, a charming little Missouri town, and the course was a blast. Each 33 mile lap was constituted by the perfect mix of rollers, flats, and climbs; really something for everyone.

The 3's race stated by rolling out neutral for the first few miles. Jumping on highway M we were allowed to race. There's pretty much two things you can bank on in a road race; if the distance is short enough the pace will be screaming from the gun, but if the distance is approaching 70 miles the pack is pretty content to putz along at 18mph. I'd prefer screaming, with a slow pace mobility in the pack is laborious indeed and wrecks are not uncommon. In the first 30 miles I heard at least two pileups behind me. Trapped on the shoulder I worked my way over to the yellow-line to find that there was nowhere to go from there either. The whole thing kind of reminded me of Office Space, as soon as I moved to the other side of the peloton the spot I previously occupied suddenly began gaining forward mobility. If I moved back, you guessed it, the other side would begin advancing spots on the front. In the heat of the moment it was quite frustrating, but in hindsight the whole thing is absolutely comical. I heard from Eric and David that there was a guy experiencing the same thing in the 4's race and he actually started yelling, "oh god, I'm boxed in. Great, great, I'm boxed in!!" Hilarious.

Once we started crossing some of the serious climbs the pack began to get itself moving. I made a ton of spots up on the first climb and positioned myself near the front. Still the peloton was a bit lazy and I found myself feathering the brakes a bit too much. Passing over a rolling section the peloton got a bit stretched and I took my opportunity on the left side to move to the front. The lead riders were in a single-file paceline on the right side, I came up to where the paceline ballooned out to three riders wide. Dropping quickly into the drops I stood on the pedals in a sprint, to my right a rider looked at me and yelled a warning. The moment seemed to last impossibly long, standing on the pedals and the tires' reaction to my effort. Once the moment was over I was off the front in a mid 30mph hour sprint slamming the pedals.

That's the key to an attack, you've got to kill it, and then you've got to keep killing it. Too many racers launch 10-20 meters off the front and look back, expecting the field to be a mile away. They try to shortcut the pain, but it's going to hurt, no doubt about it. Approaching the feed zone I tried to hold 29-30mph in a TT position to further my gap. I zipped through with an extra bottle in my back pocket, no time to stop. After a bit I looked back to see a lone bridger coming up behind. It turned out it was Matt Briar from Big Shark, I knew this kid could haul. Before I was a racer I saw him tearing the legs off of riders in the 4/5 Gateway Cup crits, I thought for sure he'd be pro by now. Together we traded pulls and linked up with the two racers up the road. From there the rest is pain and suffering, the way a good breakaway should be.

For close to 40 miles the four of us: Matt, Hub Bike Co., a racer in yellow, and I worked together until the K.O.M. hill. The racer for Hub Bicycle Co. definitely was the climber of the bunch and from the looks of it Matt definitely was not. This came as a relief because the kid could haul a massive TT and his sprint had to be something to reckon with. The rider in yellow was becoming less of a threat, and even after bumming some water off of the Hub rider, he was still fading. Cresting the K.O.M. climb Briar was way off the back and Hub was up the road. I focused on using every bit of my momentum on the downhills and transfering that into a quick power sprint on the uphills to gain on the yellow rider. After I linked up to him I pulled both of us up to the Hub rider. Thinking it wise to keep Briar dropped I moved to the front a gave a big pull, but after my turn was up yellow and Hub showed they were beat by squeaking out a a few weenie pulls. Briar killed himself to catch up and we resigned ourselves to ride as a bunch to the finish.

Somewhere around the K.O.M. hill I started to realized that my shifting was a bit off, gears were starting to miss. To tell the truth I was half expecting this. I had only ridden my new gruppo a handful of times leading up to this weekend and the cables were bound to stretch. Coming up the hill to the finish my shifting was automatic. I frantically shifted up and down my cassette and between small and big rings to find a gear ratio that wouldn't shift on its own. Each pedal stroke was interrupted by a "KACHUNK!" as the derailleur popped from cog to cog. The only thing that came into my head was "FUCK IT!" and I slammed the pedals down, still puncutated by kanchunks. I half-hobble/attacked past Briar and the yellow rider, but too late and in poor shape to catch Hub's long gone attack. 2nd place. Whatever.


It was great to see David sprint for second in the 4's race and then claim the Missouri state road title. I've been training and racing with David since February, after moving to Lawrence. When I joined Colavita/Parisi I pretty much demanded that he leave his current team. I knew David was going to be something special when riding with him in Lawrence. Despite a packed engineering schedule, where he would scrape for training hours, he was still putting up some stellar results at collegiate C races. His potential is really shining with Colavita/Parisi and this weekend was definitley proof of that. Our team is truly something special, it has a heart and a soul. We're all good friends and we support one another on and off the bike. After a long weekend (longer because of traveling than racing) who did we meet walking near Volker? Steve V., toting a six pack of brewskis! From our van we all hollered at him and the first thing he did was share his beer with us, no questions asked. After that we headed down to Minsky's and spent the rest of the night laughing and eating pizza. I've said it before and I'll say it again, that's what makes racing worth it, sharing the victory with your buds. I wouldn't want to do it alone.