Originally I started this to document some months in the south of Mexico and the intention was to go beyond the usual 'personal album' type of subject matter of the web log. At this point I've abandoned all pretense and barely blog at all, but when I do, what I've succumbed to is this.
Here I am on this past Sunday racing my second ever cyclocross race in the grassy hills of Earl Bales Park, at the 'Octoberfest Cross'. 4th place of 25, thank you much. Missed the podium by ten seconds to that big Cyclossimo bastard. A big, tall road sprinter should not be getting the better of me in the up-and-down twistiness of 'cross.
In first race, over in Steeltown, I pulled off a fabulous 5th/28 after a timid start - a flattish, fast course. Some contraversy followed that excitement after a debate w. one K.M. Seems like I'm always sitting on a toilet somewhere as the minutes countdown to the gun. Better before than during, as I'm sure Stephen Harper would agree. We've all heard about roadies pissing from their bikes (and sometimes on them, says Hayward, who wouldn't know) but imagine bike racers squeezing off excess weight directly au cours. Wow. Already I know it will be the next great thing in race-weight-shaving technique.
Perhaps Lance Armstrong's comeback will be a Livestrong/Ex-lax co-presentation. I can't wait to see him on Mt Venteux, letting it all hang out. Now that would be truly horrible.
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