Saturday Night:
When your brothers call you from a bar, and ask you to come hang out with them, it's kind of like when the Chain Gang says it's going to be a "slow recovery ride". You are in for the beat down. I don't really drink anymore. I have a beer now and then but, I hung up my pistolas long ago. The short story is: I drank too much.
Sunday Morning:
My phone is ringing and Big Worm is on the other end trying to motivate me to go enter the cross race. I am really hung over but, for some reason about twenty minutes later, I am throwing a bike in my wife's car. I was still in the clear because my wife had my car, and my wallet. I would be off the hook with the boys because I looked ready to go but, darn it, I didn't have the entry fee. I wasn't two words into my prepared excuse speech before Derwood put a twenty in my face. Derwood, and Marko, took me out for a warm up lap, and then I was on the line with the rest of entry fee donors.
The start was like most beginner races: fast and stupid. After the first run up, I had to let the four guys in front of me go and like a crew ride, I figured I was about to spend a nice day on my bike alone. Not much happened on the first two laps (if you don't count all the coughing, gagging, and general distress), but on the third lap I caught the guy in third on a run up, and passed him. There was a Higher Ground guy behind me (how many people are on their team?) that kept yo-yoing on and off my wheel. I'd get away from him and then I would hear him breathing behind me or shifting and I'd have to go harder again.
It's the third and final lap and I go all out knowing soon the pain will be over. I roll up to the start finish line to see Neil holding up the number one sign. Wow! I had no idea I was first! Then, in slow motion, I see his satanic lips mouth the words: "One....more....lap...."
Oh dear God. Cool, I was hoping I could vomit on myself and run up some more dirt hills! The Higher Ground guy keeps trying to get in my jersey pocket, but about three quarters of the way through the lap he is gone. We got on the track and I could see he was coming fast but, I just kept an eye on him, and stayed far enough in front to get third.
I know that recapping a novice race, is like a slow motion replay of a golf putt, but it's my blog and I'll gloat if I want to.
W.B.Z.N.
