I will start this race report by saying that I am very excited that the 2012 Tuesday FBF races have begun. It always feels like the beginning of "bike summer" when the FBF races start, and I am super stoked to be taking part in these races.

Before I recap last night’s race,I feel that I must give my defense for taking part in the 3/4ths category races at FBF this year—two years ago I won the series championship in the 3/4ths category—this doesn’t have much to with my decision making process this year, I just make it a habit to bring this accomplishment up as much as possible. My real reasons for racing the 3/4ths are as follows. First and foremost is the fact that I am old—my license says that I am 44 (and I really shouldn’t be trying to act younger by typing phrases like "super stoked")—which in this day and age is not terrifically old, but it is still an issue. Secondly, as of late I have been working more hours than the employee of the month at the ipad factory. This does not portend category 1/2/3 glory, and there’s simply no way that I can find more hours to train and race without failing in my main duties, which are father-ing and husband-ing. Thirdly, I like winning stuff, and racing in the 3/4ths race gives me the best chance at winning stuff. It’s a shallow notion, I know, but there it is—and fourth-ly—you are NOT the boss of me!

After picking up my life coach Mihael and his teammate Andrew on the West Side Highway, we made our way to FBF and found that there was a slight wind that was coming from an un-crucial direction. There was a head wind between turns 1 and 2. Heads winds have a tendency to shove races backwards, whereas cross winds will pick a race apart, like a five year old eating a three-bean salad. And sadly, there was no three-bean salad to help us escape on Tuesday night. The head wind also turned into a tail wind between turns 3 and 4—try to remember that—as this sentence is totally foreshadowing.

Yet despite being three-bean salad deficient, some of us tried to get fed anyway. This did not go well. There were numerous jumps off the front of the race that had little effect, and as we got to the three to go sign, the sprint writing was writ large on the wall in angry yellow crayon (five year olds get vengeful when fed too much three-bean salad).

Being old and wiley, I knew that having a tail wind between turns 3 and 4 meant that anyone wanting to not be last would have to have be in position really early. So I started positioning myself with two laps to go. I stayed in the top ten the whole time, and as we started our rush to the line, I was third wheel. Mihael’s teammate Andrew gunned it between turns 3 and 4, and that was a really nice thing to do, as it left those racers not in position in the land of the screwed.

Andrew pulled off at the corner and I jumped, Mihael was sitting on my wheel and got a gap on me almost immediately, which he held to the line (he might have won—bastard). I kept going and was on the front for a long time, before being passed by 3 or 4 guys. I wasn’t too sure where I ended up because we were closing fast on the ambulance that had decided to join our sprint to the line, probably because it was a slow week and they were looking to increase their body count.

All things said, it was an enjoyable evening. I dis-enjoy not beating Mihael, but it will be a long summer, and if the wind decides to blow, I will make every effort to be the one eating the three-bean salad.

The Strava data is below, and I’m not sure if FBF is in a GPS Bermuda Triangle, but the individual laps speeds seem pretty darn rapid.