Super Ketchup: Cedarburg Crit

Long time, no post.



Where to start! Last Tuesday I did the Cedarburg crit and got 7th place. But wait! There are excuses! In the second lap or so, a break of four got off the front and the women ahead of me let them get away. Swear. I got ahead of the pack and tried to pull the break back in for about a lap before I got tired out. Nobody else stepped up to pull, so the break was gone and that was that. The race for 5th was on.

About half way through the race, I dropped my chain part of the way up a hill. At that point I was discouraged and was ready to forget it. I stood and cursed for a few seconds before a woman from the sidelines came over and physically made me put my chain back on. I grudgingly got back on and looked up the road for the pack- just disappearing over the crest of the hill. Aaarg.

A little bit of my old self came back- I was determined to catch back up. I worried that because I had fallen off the back, I would be too tired to stay in, or do much even if I caught up. On the other hand, even if I couldn't stick in, I'd be further than if I quit just then. Um, that sounds kinda stupid, but that's the revelation I had.

So I dug in for a little hurt. As I biked past the guys cheering me on, I don't think they could help but notice I was a hundred plus (probably much, much more ;) ) yards off the back. They cheered but it kinda sounded like 'We applaud your effort, but understand if you can't catch the peloton.' It made me a little more determined to catch up with the pack, no matter how badly I would perform in the final sprint.



Long(er) story short, I caught up and got back in after two painful laps. I shirked my pulling duties and sat back in the pack. I noticed that around the final corner, the ladies would usually put on the brakes a little bit, so for the last lap I got out front and tried to shake them a bit (I should have been saving my energy instead). I flowed through the last corner with the rest of the pack right behind me. I got up off of the saddle and pushed it up the hill toward the finish line. I feel like I could have been going harder, because my head wasn't really in it, but I think I always feel like I could have gone faster after the fact. Two of the girls got out ahead of me and I got seventh. The end.

Photos by Aaron Dykstra

Superweek, what?

For those who don't know (and there are actually a few) Superweek is a week+ of road racing that pulls pro racers from all over the country and world, even, to the Milwaukee/Chicago area to race. And it is upon us! Cale and I are hosting three guys from a team based in California, and it's been a lot of fun so far. I'm already sad for when our guests will have to leave, and that's about a week away still.

Last night Cale and I went to Shorewood to watch the Pro 1-2-3 women's and men's races. It took us most of the hour plus race to actually spot the guys we're hosting, because we didn't know what their kit looked like. It was a fun race to watch, and we ran into some other Pegasi while we were up there. Ah, summer.

Here I try to take a picture without Cale's middle finger in it.


Success... kinda.


And here was the Men's Pro 1-2-3 finish


After the race we hung out with the California team, hoping we would look cool basking in their glow, our fixies close at hand for extra cool points. They went in search of beer/water on the race course, and happened across one of the better spectator parties on the second straight of the course. They offered us all beer, soda, water, and ever fancy leftover sandwhiches (we're talking toothpick through olive through sandwich sandwiches- luxe!)

So as you could deduce, they were very nice people. They were talking to us all, and at one point an older gentleman came over and says, "Meet my friend, Greg Lemond, he's a 7 time World Champion". Now, I wouldn't know what Greg Lemond looks like, but this other guy doing the introducing looks like he might be somewhat of a kidder. So I kinda laugh and facetiously say 'Well, I'm two time state champion, would you like my autograph?" and everyone laughs and the 'Greg Lemond' guy asks for what and we talk for a little while. He said he thought single speed mountain biking would be pretty tough, and so automatically I like him (I am highly susceptible to flattery of even the most watered-down variety). Eventually he mingles away, and I go back to talking to Cale and joking with the guys.

Eventually, we all split off to head for home, and it's then that I find out the 'Greg Lemond guy' was Greg Lemond. Hahaha, what an enjoyable and funny life I have :)

Tuesday Night Fright

Track Tuesday started out the regular way. I felt nervous, didn't want to race and was lethargic and whining a lot. My knee had a bit of a sharp pain under the kneecap while walking, but on the bike it felt fine, so I grudgingly signed up to race. The night's races played to my strengths: there was a Danish an a Miss-n-out.

In a Danish, the first person to cross the finish line on the first lap gets first and stops racing. The first person to cross the line on the second lap gets second and stops racing, and so on. During the Danish, there would be little time for tactics and the strongest/fastest person would have the upper hand.

In a Miss-n-out, the last person to cross the line each lap gets pulled from the race, until there are only three left. Then a neutral lap is (usually) called, and then the three sprint one lap for the first three places. During the Miss-n-out, you've got to have a good position, and it's a fast race. It's dangerous to draft too much, because you can get stuck being the last person to cross the line. If you stay in, you have to be able to keep up a good pace for a long while.

First up was the Danish. I wasn't feeling good, and every time I burped I tasted pepperjack cheese from my lunchtime sandwich. Yech. I felt a little weak with nerves, but during the neutral lap, I came around and was ready for the jump when the whistle blew to start the race. I got out ahead of everyone and hovered above the sprinter's lane before dropping into it in the first turn. I was going hard, but saving a little. After the second turn I watched the shadows- as I expected I saw the girls shifting up the track, moving to try to pass me on my right. I turned up the speed a little bit, accelerating through turns three and four, and then let loose in the homestretch. I was seated and concentrating on smooth and powerful. (I think I need to strengthen my core to help me out with a smoother stroke. It couldn't hurt, anyhow.) Either that or my gearing is a little high, but I think I would spin out with less. But anyhow, the girls were right behind me through most of the lap, but my teammates told me that I started to pull away from them on the homestretch. Win #1 of the night- would I be able to pull off the second race?

So I was off to a good start. I was feeling better and more confident, which is pretty important to me. I wish it wasn't as important, but, as evidenced in the SS State Championship race, having my head in the right place is so key. I get discouraged way too easily, and my performance suffers!

I had a while 'til my next race and was watching a Cat 3 race while sitting and relaxing, when all of a sudden things went wrong. The field was like 6 across, with the guys at the top of the track being maybe two yards behind the guy at the bottom. I think the guy on the bottom in the sprinter's lane moved up for someone else to take the lead. He moved up maybe a foot above the red line (sprinter's line?) and as he was going up everyone got compressed. There was yelling from the top to get down on the track. I saw everyone getting impossibly scrunched and they couldn't slow down fast enough at the top. It was clear someone was going to get pinched. When they did go into the fence at the top of the track, they went down immediately and it was like a cartoon fight where there's just a cloud of dust and an arm here and there. It was a wad of shiny bike parts flashing as they flipped and the two riders going every which way. When it was over Ed (White of Half Acre Cycling) lay face down on the track and Perkins (Jeff Perkins of Chicago's Cuttin' Crew) picked himself up and went over to check on Ed and immediately yelled for an ambulance, then ran down the bank of the track (the crash happened just coming out of turn two), slipping on his cleats.

Everyone was silent. I saw Ed lying facedown, so still, and started crying. Now, I don't really know Ed. He takes awesome track photos that he lets people use and I've talked to him only once. From what I've seen, he's a really nice guy. That doesn't really warrant sobbing over the man, and I'm not trying to bring more drama to the situation, but it was terrible to see someone in that position. The ambulance came and got him, and then Perkins, who reportedly had some scrapes and a pretty swollen looking hand. If you want to know about Ed, he'll tell you himself: http://flickr.com/photos/ewwhite/2672933019/

From what I've heard (gossipgossip!) they're both out of the hospital and doing well, thank God. But this blog is not about gossip, it's about ME, right?

Racing resumed as soon as the blood had been washed off of the track and the water had dried. By my second race, the Miss-n-out, things seemed almost back to normal. The announcer said "We're going to be going all the way down on the women," meaning there would be no neutral lap before the sprint at the end. However, it could also be taken sexually, right? I mean, just saying.

So during the neutral lap at the beginning, the announcer kept commentating and said "Katy Steudel of Team Pegasus smoked the field during the last race," and the girls behind me laughed and shouted "Did you hear that? You smoked us!" and I, not knowing how to respond to that, said "Did you hear what he said at the beginning about going all the way down on the women?" Bless their pure hearts, they said "Yeah, there's not going to be any neutral lap". I said "Yeah, I understand that, but it could also be taken sexually... you know..." and they were like, "Oh. Right. Guess our minds aren't in the gutter!" I mumbled something lamely about how hanging out with the guys on the team was wearing off on me, and then luckily the race was upon us.

I see these girls I race against as equals, and so I forgot that our ages aren't equal. Later I realized I was talking to a bunch of girls- one just got her driver's license, one's 12 and another is just starting to apply to colleges. The situation was funny, but I felt just a little inappropriate.

Back to the Miss-n-out: it was going fine until I rubbed tires with one of the other girls. I had an inch of overlap on her rear wheel when she started to come up track to let someone else lead. Visions of a crash flew through my mind as we kept rubbing wheels. After a second, I realized we weren't in a tangled heap on the track, and worked on getting disengaged. It was like in mountain biking when you see an obstacle you don't want to hit: if you focus on it too long, you'll start heading toward it. We stayed engaged because I was focusing on it, but when I shook it out of my head, I was able to move away from her and get steady again. But sweet Jesus, was I ever scared. I've never had a bad brush like that. Luckily (kind of) I was paralyzed and she kept her cool- there was no jerking and it was handled smoothly.

After that, I kept racing but had forgotten to keep from being the last one. I spooked when another girl's handlebars came close to mine, and I got stuck in a bad position for that lap and got taken out at third. When I came off the track, I was upset. The crash from before, the scare from my race and then, when I was coming off the track, the frustration at myself for losing my head and losing the race. I would have had a good chance if I wouldn't have gotten spooked.

I decided to skip the last race because I was afraid I'd be a danger to others. In closing, it was sure a hell of a night. I'd like to wish Perkins and Ed a speedy, speedy recovery. Ed's practically a Kenosha staple, and we don't get to see the Cuttin' Crew very often- I hope this hasn't scared them off. I'd like to say more than that, but that's about all there is to say. Please know there are a lot of people sincerely rooting for a quick and thorough recovery.

I'm not scared...

Just got done watching Red Dragon, one of my favorites in the Hannibal Lecter series. Actually, it was more listening because I was painting the whole time. But let me tell you, listening is enough. I've seen it enough times that I can remember a lot of the visuals as I listen along. You'd think that, since I've seen it so many times, listening to it wouldn't be no thang. Well, it's just enough to make the empty house just a tad, or maybe a little smidge, spooky. Luckily, I have a blog to protect me.

...and other stuff...

This is more on the SS State Championships. I would apologize for writing so much, but how can I help it? I'm naturally self-absorbed. Besides, I'm pretty sure that no more than three people actually read this.

The Bike: An aluminum Motobecane frame, the $300 wonderbike. It's got some fancy brake levers on it, but apparently could use a fancier rear brake- it was rubbing a good amount on the wheel, which also seemed a bit wonky to me in a hub-is-on-its-way-out sort of way. The 20 tooth cog was an excellent choice by my mechanic, aka Cale. The saddle, oooohpain. Suffice to say, there was also a good amount of rubbing in the seat area. That is the last time I use that seat for over 4 miles of trails.

The transition back to rigid SS: I've been riding geared with front suspension and loving it, but it wasn't too terrible to go back to my old ways. I didn't spend the race pining away for suspension or gears. I think I've retained some of the SS habits of attacking hills and such, and besides I'm just so darned adaptable. When you're on a SS, there are going to be some hills you can't climb up. There are going to be things that will be a struggle. So what? There are limitations to what you can do on a geared bike, too.

The Skillz: I am getting so much better! It feels like I've finally had a breakthrough, as cheesy as that sounds. I'm able to do things faster and with less fear than ever before! On a side note, I had the song 'Pump It' by the Black Eyed Peas in my head for all 3hrs and 2mins of the race. There's a technique called 'pumping' that I saw a video for (thanks, Mark Weir!) that reminds me of the song. Plus, it's got the lyrics "Don't stop, and keep it going" in it. But anyhow, pumping and my accruing skills are making it feel like I'm working with the bike rather than just along for the ride. So good.

The Fuel: Note to self- learn to drink water on a bike. Over three hours at race pace and I didn't even drink 3/4 of one waterbottle. I know I've got a few aunts who would lecture me about fueling my body properly, and they're right. I was just afraid to slow down at all, and I'm not slick at putting my water bottle back in its cage. Add to that the gasping for air, and it's not as easy as it sounds to actually get water into your mouth. I managed to get in a few Gu packets- my first time using them. Not as terrible as I thought they would be.

The Focus: I was intensely focused for much of this race, which was a goal of mine. Focus and determination meant not as much hesitation in tricky areas, which resulted in better handling. A few of us went out and rode parts of the same trails today, and I wondered at the stuff I hadn't even blinked at while riding in competition. Also focusing: focusing on the positive. I've mentioned that I got all self-pitying at the end, and I know this is a weakness of mine. I tried to focus on the good stuff, technical areas I got over that the other girls might have had trouble with. Unfortunately I got discouraged at the end when my body started to slow, but at least I was better at cheerleading for the rest of the race.

State Chump Race Report

So this weekend the crew went up to Levis Trow to do the second WEMS race of the year and the Single Speed State Championships. A lot of racers already had camp set up when we got there around 11 Friday night. Levis is a three hour drive from MKE and 2 from Madison, so a lot of people chose to go up and camp the night before. It was a cool scene- everyone was looking forward to riding the trails the next day.

It was a little wet here and there throughout the weekend, but all in all it was just fine for camping and racing. The trails tend to dry out quickly in most of park because of the sand content. But listen to me, talking about the weather. I should get started on the 17 paragraphs I'm sure to wind up with...

So, what can I say about the SS Championships? I managed to eat a good breakfast provided by the volunteers before my start at 10:00AM. The race was going to be two 12.5 mile laps with about 1,920 feet of elevation total (it was pretty hilly). I was riding the Pecan (Motobecane) with 34/20 gearing, and I cherished every single tooth of that somewhat ridiculous 20 tooth cog in the rear. There were just three women present for the race. On one hand, I wanted the title for the team's race resume (it's what we send to sponsors to show them how serious and awesome we are) but on the other hand, I wanted to have to fight for it. I wasn't let down- I don't want to make the whole thing into some epic battle story, but I've gotta say, it wasn't a cake walk for me.

I was sticking to my plan of just riding it and seeing who came out ahead for the first half of the first lap. I put one woman behind me and watched the other one ride away from me in the first section, about 5 min into the race. I was going at a decent pace and warming up to the more technical trails when, maybe a quarter through the first lap, I spotted the woman ahead of me. Well, that settled it, it was no longer a ride but a race. I caught her just before a downhill and watched her go over the roots and rocks. I figured that here I had the advantage. Have I mentioned I've been practicing this mountain biking stuff? I got ahead of her and put a little distance between us. Phwew, right?

Not the case. I would get a little gap in the technical single track areas, then she would reel me back in on the fire roads/double track. She was like a nightmare that kept coming back. Have I mentioned how much I loathe being out front? In a race, I like to be the stalker. I especially love it in cylcocross, you know. Well, here I was the mouse trying to scamper away, and it made me so nervous to not know where exactly she was. During the first lap she caught up again two or three times, and not knowing if she could catch me at the end caused me to feel a slow burning, diluted sort of panic for most of the race. Ugh.

Just before the start of the second lap, I shook her off again. I pushed through the first section of double track and didn't see her at the end of it: a good sign. When I got to the single track, I went as fast as I could, taking the corners quickly and only using my rear brake a little. I had to increase the gap where I could, because she could close it again in an open section. I embraced the things that I deemed difficult, because I knew they would probably slow her down a little. I was pushing it hard and hoping my energy would hold out.

Somewhere on the second half of the last lap, I met up with Russell on his Communist bike, who were tooling along for fun while I toiled away. He rode along with me while I wilted and became ever more unpleasant to ride with. How so? Actual groans and whimpers from me for me. Poooor Katy. In my haste to build a gap, I had run myself down and was scraping the bottom of the barrel, just hoping that I had gotten far enough out or that she was also tiring. Russell helped me out as much as I could be helped- it's tough to bike when you're busy wallowing in self pity! But seriously, thanks especially for the Gu shot. I'm thinking of not washing my jersey, so that the gooey green apple Gu lined pocket with dirt stuck to it will forever remind me of your shining face.

So we all know how it ends. I managed to haul my sack of bones in to the finish, first of the women. Cale, my External Ego, was waiting for me at the finish line, no doubt so he could either start crowing about my win or consoling me for my loss. It would be interesting to hear the race reports from the other two women- was their gearing as agreeable as mine? (Thanks to Cale for prescribing the 20 tooth cog). What were their favorite or least favorite parts? We may never know...

Here's the happy ending. Am I the only one that thinks this looks like the vows at a wedding ceremony? I mean, look at that eye contact!

A Divine Mark

This past Wednesday Cale and I went out and rode Kettles, as we usually try to do. We were waiting for Gary and Bethany to arrive, so we went out and rode an orange loop. That is, we rode most of an orange loop... Cale got a flat, which we fixed with a tube from my kit. Then it went flat again- turns out the tube in my bag was a former flatted tube, instead of a fresh one. Well, that was that. I headed back to the parking lot while Cale tried to outrun the mosquitoes, swearing the whole way back about how he was going back to tubeless the minute he got the chance.

Back at the car we met Gary and Bethany, all set to ride. Cale fixed his flat and we were off on some combination of trails (I'm terrible at knowing which is which, though we ride out there all the time). For a while we all rode together for strength in numbers against the hordes of mosquitoes, but after a while Cale and I went off the front. When we stopped at an intersection (so to speak) to wait up, the skeeters got us, so we decided to tackle a hill on one of the intersecting trails rather than stand around. I'm not sure what loop it is, but I think it's the only hill out there with the plastic grating left on it. Very steep. I had my doubts while descending it, but managed to make it all the way up. Had the nasty plastic grating not been there, I probably would have spun out.

But enough with the boring details. Let me just say that I was feeling really good. I think the stars were aligned, but there are a few things that probably helped. 1) I've been losing weight like mad. All of this biking, plus being too nervous to eat a few days a week, have been doing wonders. I wouldn't recommend that combo, but I can't deny the results. 2) Hello negative air. My fork needed some air because I hadn't tuned it or anything since getting it, and I've definitely been breaking it in. While filling it, it was discovered that the negative air chamber had never been filled. Supposedly this means small bump sensitivity had been suffering. It's hard for me to tell the difference between negative air and not having it, but I thought that just maybe it felt a tad different.

In any case, I was feeling great and definitely getting more comfortable with leaning through the turns and going a little faster. I felt a really good flow- probably the best bit of riding I've ever had. It was like a glimpse of what mountain biking could be- fast and relaxed, but on your toes, light and skillful. That barely makes sense, but that's as close as I can get to describing it. It was great. So Katy, you ask, how did you get that very large bruise in the shape of the Virgin Mary on your thigh?



Well, let me tell you all about it. I was in this groove riding the new connector, very relaxed and riding along behind Cale. When all of a sudden Cale goes up and over the new large logover. My first reaction is 'Woah! No way, I'm not ready.' but my second reaction is 'Don't be a wimp, you've done it before and you don't need to think about it, you can do it.' Now, it was true that I've done it before to no ill effect, but it was not true that I could do it that day. The hesitation threw me off and then quite literally threw me off to one side of the log on the way up, leaving me sprawled across the descending logs. Well, I was pissed. I was pissed at the mosquitoes that descended upon my broken self, I was pissed that my bars were crooked and I was pissed that I hadn't made it over. So Cale straightened my bars and I tromped back up the trail to try it again, repeating 'I just wasn't ready' over and over again to myself and Cale, and later to whomever would listen. But anyway, the second time was a charm. Then we got the heck out of there.

Coming up tomorrow are the Single Speed championships. I'm not hardly nervous for them- I will show up and either I will be outclassed or I will win it. Why can't road races be this easy on me? I think that it's different because even if I don't win or place, I can still have a great ride by tackling the trail, which is something that just doesn't transfer for road and track. It would be awesome to win another state champ jersey, though...

Also in the news, we applied to host two racers for SuperWeek. Not really any news back yet, but we should be getting at least one. The more the merrier, I say. It'd be fun to have a BBQ or something to welcome them and have some friends over.