Tail Gunner

Yesterday represented the my 1st anniversary back racing. And I did it in style, herding the 1/pro field like a boarder collie nipping the heals of the young bucks (some old ones, as well) in Visalia. My tongue was hanging like a boarder collie, too.

You know, now that I'm old, it is kinda fun to do a couple of races in a day, but why do they have the be the kind of races that, well, I really don't get too excited about. Oh sure, going fast is fun; however trying to keep my fat head up as I beat across the pavement for a couple of hours kinda hurts. But okay, it is still kinda fun. Plus, I'll have to miss my favorite road race next weekend due to a commitment to present at a professional conference--even though I've given my walking papers to the profession (Adios Academy will be the next post), so I may as well get in the abuse while I can.

It was encouraging, though, to be able to hang in the 1/pro race. It was damn quick. And to be honest, I was not a player the last time I did the 1/pro race in Visalia, when I was too young to go for the double dose. However, we did have the road race in Exeter to zap the legs. And the last time I did that in 94, our average speed was the same for the road race as it was for the crit. 90 miles at 29 mph hanging on to the Silver Bullet train. Good times, but past times. Yesterday I called on some memory, and I leaned heavy on making sure that I did not waste any energy, unlike some around me racing for 80th place. That was probably me, though, many years ago. Ah youth.

Unfortunately, the race day ended on a low note. Trish Bell, pardon the pun, rang her bell in the spill on the last lap of the women's race. She had no recollection of what happened, and kept asking the same questions, "did I wreck? was it the last lap?" as though she had not asked them. I'd seen this before after a big pileup in Lawrence KS. I kept on telling my friend, Mike, to sit down as he had a huge lump the color and size of a tomato on his forehead. He kept on saying, "no, I did not wreck, I did not hit my head." He could not remember me telling him time and time again. Luckily, no long term damage, for either Trish or Mike, but scary stuff nonetheless.

So, two weeks off from the racing. There'll be a trip to San Diego to give the finger to the political science profession, while providing some professional training to a couple of students. There'll be a trip to Burlingame to get acclimated to my new job (more in Adios Academy). There might be some training too, cuz Orosi is coming up, and that was my first road race back last year. Road racing, not the crit circle dance, is what I am in it for. And, I just can't let some skinny, dark skinned sprinter win this year.

I T-Shirted

It's been a while since I've entered anything here (blame it on my continuing, and possibly soon to end struggle with the academy). But I T-Shirted yesterday at the Cantua Road Race. I would say I podiumed, but Velo Promo races don't have podiums. Plus, it is grammatically incorrect (okay, so is T-Shirted).

Back and forth, up and down, along side Highway 5 in the middle of nowhere, I found myself crossing the line in second. Some nice guy named Bob in a blank jersey beat me. So, how did I get to that point? Well, I snuck away when Dan Martin was not looking, with about 3 miles to go with Bob. Oh, there were moves before that, but only the one that works counts (unlike the almost move at Mothballs two weeks ago).

But really, what to say about the Cantua road race? Velo Promo really went out of its way to find the most boring stretch of road possible. Don't get me wrong, Velo Promo is a godsend to the Cali cycling scene, but come on Bob L., I almost had to violate anti-doping rules due to the desire to get jacked up on something to keep me awake. At least Danny boy was there to animate things in the first 50 meters. And I told him to calm down before the thing even started. But since I did not want to fall asleep, I too went off the front for a bit on the first leg out.

Much of the race was spent in rotating fashion, and much of that was our group of 9 trying to stay away from a group of 5 or 6. Snooze. Danny asked me on the last leg out, what do you think there Nick? My response, something on the way back. And something on the way back it was. Cracks started to form, and I did my niggling best to pry them open. Then, torque time, snap she goes. Danny said "we got a gap", but the gap was closed, and it was cat and rodent time. My mate asked me "what should we do?" "Tag team time" I said. He took a dig, and when it was still together, there was a pause. Next thing I know it was just me and Bob. Teamless, blue jersey Bob. Hmm, Dan must have fallen asleep. Again, the course is that boring.

200 meters to go and Bob says nice race and fades back. I guess I should have gotten out of the saddle and nailed it, but I just thought to myself, I can't go any faster, so I don't know why he thinks it was over for him. Maybe I just look that intimidating. I somewhat peddled away, but he must have seen the lactic acid oozing out of my legs, and he pushed on by. Congrats, Bob. T-shirt and $10 bucks for me. I just had to picture the podium girls giving me a bouquet and a peck.

Alright, to the grading. Then a fun meeting with the chair tomorrow. Why did I send that email?