The last 48 hours have been ruff in this part of the world-- my bedroom, that is-- because I've been in the grip of a 103-degree fever. I don't know how I got myself so sick, but when I woke up this morning, it felt like the inside of my eyelids were lined with sandpaper. Not a good start on the whole. Fortunately the Team Bacon and Raisins racing schedule is pretty light these days-- all of the races were in far-off lands like Orosi and Zamora, violating the arcane formulae laid down by generations of mid-pack crit finishers, which determine with inviolable certainty whether a given race is worth the drive. Nothin's doin' until Brisbane on the 28th. They have a pretty slick course map up.
I'm going out on a limb here, but it looks like it could go well for me, what with the short straightaway. Not like the Menlo Park 1000-meter dash, aka The Neverending Story. When I came around the corner there, I had plenty of time to sit behind a two-man train that seemed to be destined for great things... unfortunately they topped out at about 85% of true sprint speed, so I had to cuss them, and come around. Team Active Athlete, put your learning hats on. And the pro tip for Brisbane? Take the outside line on the 180-degree corner, so you can keep pedaling while everyone else coasts through the inside line.
