Sans Blunt Speed or Power

So I did the Wednesday Night Short Track race last night. I was actually on the fence about it the whole day and was hoping that I would get saved by the frequent rain that we have been getting. My legs felt like... well... they felt like shit. I got all dressed up in my finest super hero outfit, and got on the bike to ride down there. I was a little excited as there was a thunderstorm blowing in. I made my way to the liquor store to pick up a sixer of adult beverages, and continued the ride over.

I did a few laps on the course, and the legs were still a no go. It rained a little, but not enough to amount to anything. I initially thought the layout of the course sucked ass, but decided to race anyways. I payed my money, warmed up a little more and camped out to get a good start position.

Now, let me tell you about these races. They hurt. The starts are SUPER critical. You have 30-50 dudes riding balls to the wall to the first turn/singletrack. The first 5 seconds are the scariest part of the whole race. Luckily, I am pretty good at the start. I can usually pull the hole shot, or pretty close to it. Last night, they had decided to have a ~30 yard mass start, and then funnel down into a right hand single track section. It was crazy town.

Well, I managed to be second into the first turn. Perfect. My feelings started to change a little for the course, I was really warming up to it. As another write-up said, "The course weaved back and forth with several challenging hills and a couple of slick corners, making the race about technical skill rather than blunt speed and power." That actually worked out perfect on the old tired stumps I had for legs, cause there was no blunt speed or power coming out of them last night.

I finished the race in 5th, not far from the 1st-4th group, who stayed together for most of the race. It was my best placing of the year so far on the Wednesday series (I've got two 7th places, one 8th, and now a 5th). This also knocked me up into 2nd place in the overall. Yeah, I said knocked me up. Good times. I celebrated with two sixteen ounce Coors Lights.

The funny part of this story is after I rode home. After walking through the door, still adorned in bike shoes, bike socks, bike shorts, and a bike jersey (I had taken off my helmet), I decided the garbage needed to go out. I walked it over to the dumpster, and at the same time, some other dude in my complex was taking his out.

"Oh, Do you ride?" he says.

I was a little caught off guard, millions, and I mean millions of witty remarks ran through my little brain. None of witch I had the balls to say. "Um, Yep." I replied.

He proceeded to ask me who my sponsor was, when I told them who, he asked, "Oh... who's that?" He then tried to sell me some Zipp Wheels for my road bike, tell me how he was a pro triathlete, tell me ALL his sponsors, and try to sell me his coaching services.

I am pretty sure he was from somewhere else, mainly because of his accent. And his usage of the word "Flat" instead of apartment.

Well... anyways, I thought it was funny.

Big gulps, eh? Well... see ya later.