ToAD 2018
By all accounts, my experience at the 2018 Tour of America’s Dairyland was a complete success; I somehow avoided crashing in four days of racing, I won a $100 prime, and my little climber legs even got a Top 20. But the best part is, I got to race in front of my family for the first time in years. You see, it didn’t used to be like this…
Back in the day, I used to go to almost every race with my Dad. My mom would take me to some of the races, sometimes – the best times – the whole family would come. We would pile into the mini-van with coolers full of sandwiches and beer, tent and bike stand ready to go, and the ‘race bag’ filled with tools, lube, and massage cream. Almost every weekend we would drive to an hour to local crit, and I would do my best – that’s all that matters, my dad says.
I moved through the ranks quickly, and before I knew it I was a Cat 3 lining up at ToAD in 2015. I got dropped in every Cat 2/3 race I did that year. 28 mph wasn’t the norm for me back then; that was my top speed. I remember dying a thousand deaths at the back of the field, desperately trying to chase back on through the corners, only to get dropped again on the long, fast straightaways. After just three days of ToAD, I was defeated, demoralized, and I never wanted to race a Cat 2/3 race again – it was way too hard.
A few years later and I’m lining up in the Pro/1/2s – I can’t believe how easy it is to sit at the back of the field. (Sorry to anyone who was in my race, hanging on for dear life. You’ll get stronger, it just takes time 🙂 )
For the first 50 minutes of this year’s Shorewood crit, I felt like I was coasting around at 30 mph without even trying. I was saving all of my matches for the end – turns out I only had one – which is when I thought the winning breakaway would go. I was right (again), but I missed the winning move (again).
With 10 laps to go I was sitting too far back in the field to react to anything. I had burned all of my mental matches the day before in Port Washington – yes, I do believe there is a difference between mental and physical ‘matches’, but that’s a conversation for another day…
Riding around the streets of Shorewood, surrounded by 140 guys going 30+ mph, I just wasn’t into it. I wasn’t super motivated to go off the front, and in truth, I was mostly there because of the support from my family. They were scattered around the course, and I could hear them cheering “Go Zach!” every single lap. So with 5 laps to go, I decided that it was now or never, and I was going to go off the front.
“PRIME NEXT LAP, PRIME NEXT LAP! $100 TO THE FIELD!”
This is my opportunity – I dive up the inside going into Turn 1, passing about 30 guys with a little bit of late braking and pointy elbows. Gavin, my teammate from last year, has already attacked, and he’s going for the prime. He has a few seconds gap going into Turn 2, but I’m not giving up. I attack up the left side of the road and fly through the turn as fast as I can. It’s a longgg back straightaway, but I dig deep and soon find Gavin and the field in my rear view mirror. As I come around the final corner, I can’t believe that no one has caught me yet. I’ve never won a prime in my entire life (I don’t count winning a pair of socks in a track race), and now I’m about to win a $100 prime at ToAD.
I realize how lame this is to many/most of you. But I thought it was pretty cool.
After I won the prime, I went all-in, hoping (against all odds) to stay away to the finish – I got caught a half-lap later. I dropped through the field like a rock in water, or a bowling ball in a vacuum, or my self-esteem after prom…The point is, I’m glad I dropped to the back of the field as quickly as I did, because coming around the final corner, there was a HUGE pile-up that took down at least 20 riders and neutralized the race with 1 lap to go.
Do I need to finish to earn my prime? was the first thought that popped into my head. No more than 10 minutes later, the officials restarted us with 3 laps to go, and I sat-in at the back of the field – I just wanted to finish. As I rolled around for my cool-down lap, I couldn’t help but smile. Hundreds of bike racers, kids, families, millennials, and everyday people had come out to watch and cheer us on, even if they had no idea what the hell was going on – Why do they go out in front of the other riders like that? and Don’t they always get caught? are common questions. Yes, usually. Kind of. It’s hard to explain.
I found my dad and step-mom on Turn Four. My dad offered me a beer – half of the field had already had one by now, seeing that it was five minutes after the race – but I declined. I wanted a burger instead. But first, I needed to find my mom for some chocolate milk and a picture. I got my chocolate milk, cheeseburger, and ice cream too, and my mom got a picture with her thankfully-still-in-one-piece son.
I love ToAD, I really do, but I am happy to be done racing crits for a little while. The constant turning, swearing, elbowing, and battling for positioning can be frustrating, infuriating, and outright dangerous. But it can also be super fun, exciting, and unique, more than any other bike race.
Thank you to every single one of my family and friends for coming out to the races, supporting me from afar, and ‘liking’ my pictures on Instagram. And thank you to my team – Team California – for supporting me over the past two and a half years, and allowing me to take this opportunity to race at home.
Next up: Wisconsin State Road Race