Are you excited about hearing how the race went for me? No? Then why do you read any of this garbage?
Now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk racing. Yesterday wasn't really a good prep day for a crit-- instead of resting with my legs up, sipping lukewarm broth, I went drinking at 9am. I at least ate pancakes with the booze (the "velvet hammer" -- champagne and guinness at Zachary's restaurant.) At breakfast, a friend found out that Caitlin hadn't used her wetsuit since she bought it, so it was decided (we were not part of the decision) that we were going surfing that afternoon. Aaron rallied Dennis, possibly the most gnar-gnar, leatheriest dude in town, and we attempted to shred. The shredding wasn't happening, and Dennis decided it would be badd grammah to force ourselves upon the crowd where the real waves did be, so we packed it in pretty quick. Highlights for Caitlin included a body boarder getting the whole-body shakes and moaning "skuuhh uhhh sketch, dude!" because a crab touched him; and seeing sea otters up close. Dennis' thoughts on otters: "They're fast, and they've got sharp teeth." I didn't take away a newfound appreciation for nature's wonders, but I did burn my big balding noggin-- East Coast readers will be familiar with said noggin, especially when sunburnt.
ANYWAYS, when I lined up this morning, not only was it California cold (50 degrees), I had sore hips (what the fuck does that mean?) and I looked like Hellboy with no horns. That being said, we were the first race so I threw down much warmup, which is not my SOP. It seemed to help, because the race had a hairpin (see course map) and it was, even more than usual, vital to be up front. So when they blew the whistle, I promptly fucked up clipping in, which always happens in races but never any other time, and then spent a lap battling up to the front. Unusually, I made it there, and proceeded to spend four laps acting like I knew what the fuck I was doing -- hilarious! Then on lap six I got squeezed into the on the hairpin, and didn't crash but did lose about twenty places. And then I bailed. I still feel like shit, or maybe I am just telling myself I feel like shit because it is easier than fighting to the front twice, but at any rate I went and got a cup of coffee.
Aaron's race didn't go much better.
Verdict: BUMMER.
If you are looking for a 56cm 08 Trek Madone, now would be a good time to send me a tempting offer.
