Beth was killed a year ago today. She was impressive in so many ways, I can't help but dwell on the void her passing has left.

I ended up in a ditch yesterday. I was on the team ride and had pulled to the left in preparation for the turn onto Old School road, but then the guys ahead of me went straight [they were taking a different, longer route] and I didn't expect that. Then Loukas was right next to me so I hit the corner a little wider than usual and skidded on the little patch of gravel and in recovering couldn't keep myself on the road. I went into the grass, managed to get a foot unclipped, and as I rode into the deep little ditch, got a foot on the far bank. So I stayed dry and upright. And it actually got the guys to slow down on Old School hill -- a place I usually get gapped. Not that I'd want to repeat the experience.

I wonder how all my teammates did at Proctor today.

I'm having a hungry day. I'm sitting here at my desk, stomach rumbling, trying to decide if I actually need something to eat or if I should tough it out until lunch. I had a larger breakfast than usual for a rest day already. Hmmm. I might start gnawing on the tape dispenser.

My quads are a bit sore today. I was on the lakefront for my endurance ride yesterday and ended up 'having to' ride a fuzzy legged guy with aero bars off my wheel. I didn't mind that he passed me the first time . . . but then he just dangled 30 meters in front of me. Uhm, no. Don't speed way up just to pass me when you can't maintain it. And then try to do it again. Chasing the rabbit is irresistible. And pedalling away from the panting and exhausted rabbit is shamefully satisfying.

Robin racing track.

Proctor is this weekend. After what happened to Beth last year, the road race is off. Just crits. Very short crits for the women [15 minutes!?!?!]. A lot of my teammates are going, but I'm not. Even if the race were a reasonable length, I couldn't. All I can think of is Beth joking around in the hotel room, Beth in the hospital on life support.

My teammate Robin was doored last week. She was riding in the bike lane when a car stopped in traffic opened the passenger side door right in front of her and the impact threw her into a steel girder supporting the El. She ended up with 7 or so broken ribs and internal bleeding [not to mention a destroyed bike]. The people who caused her accident drove off without even checking to see if she were OK. Which she wasn't. They left her lying in the street barely able to breathe from the intense pain and a partially collapsed lung. In the ER - after liberal doses of morphine - I asked if she'd passed out and she said she WISHED she'd passed out. The pain was unbearable.

Those thoughtless and criminally selfish jerks just fill me with rage. I want to channel that [non-productively] into personally beating the crap out of them. Perhaps [productively] spreading this around will suffice:


I really hope that Robin doesn't give up racing. I've seen other teammates crash and never recover their desire to compete. I can understand that, I just really, really hope Robin sticks with it. She was so into cycling and was really gaining strength and speed. We'd been training together on the Lakefront that morning and everyone noticed. This is a big setback, especially right at the beginning, I hope racing isn't another casualty of this crash.

On the other hand, Brian, my teammate who crashed so badly at camp, was on my long ride on Saturday looking strong and feeling good. Anodyne.

The Johnny Depp period movie is filming around the block from where I work. I drove through a flock of model Ts this morning. All the women in my office suddenly have the vapors. There's talk of a field trip.

My mood is black. BLACK! It's probably the extra special lady hormones, but nothing is right. I'm hideous. And I hate everyone. Gah.

Worse, Coach just decided that I'm on a rest week. And I am NOT happy about it. I will now miss the fitness check time trial Wednesday morning, racing track Thursday evening, the Elm Grove Crit on Saturday and Fond du Lac crit on Sunday.

My life is pain.

RATS! Rats! Rats! Rats!

Amassing upgrade points in the small women's fields is like pulling teeth. The number of points awarded depends on the number of racers -- which I understand, its not as hard to beat five other people as it is to beat 15 other people. If only 15 women would show up! If there had been one more racer in my field at Spring Prairie, I would have gotten 7 points instead of 3. Now it turns out there were only four cat 4 racers at Fox River Grove yesterday -- we were combined with the masters racers and its hard to tell who's who. Points are awarded to fields with five or more racers. So despite SOMEHOW managing to win the damn thing, my goal of amassing points is foiled. Not to mention that half the points I have won aren't listed on the USCF site.

I will never get twenty frickin' points.

And I am SO WEARY of my race goal being "get points." Sometimes I want to race for the team. I want to chase down breaks or bridge a teammate across, or give Gigi a strong leadout. I want to be useful. Instead I'm anxiously chasing this upgrade. And my awesome teammates are helping and that's starting to sit heavily on my shoulders.