yesterday, I had the worse day on my bike ever.  I pulled myself from the race 2 laps in, dripping blood from the nose.  A dead engine.   No spark. Wrong tire treads.   and still It was a good day.

I laid  in bed,  early, I was so tired, at 8:30. 

On Sat. I sat on the line, with a smile, and pep.  Rolled my tire in the first of the race, and ran to the pit.  I exited with the 55+ on my ass.   I thought for a brief second to pull up to not go so hard to save some for Sunday.   I had nothing to lose,  I could ride my race, and off I went, harder, deeper, relentless.   I spent it all.

I woke last night around 2am,  still a bit tired, but brain roaring alive, thinking about cross

I started riding, everything was a race, every ride, it was incredible to push myself, against my friends, freds, carrots.  I posesed a Naive-ity Strenght, I was to dumb to notice how or why I felt, to full of the thrill to worry about form, wanting to prove myself, and new that I had so many challenges ahead.

well, I've learned something, my limits, and somehow, I liked it better when I didn't know.  I did not know what I could not do.  Everything was achievable.   Now, its work, prep, skill,...

what was good about yesterday?   I guess its sorta why I race,  to fail, to get beat, humbled, crushed, that ugly pitted feeling of such a poor performance,  and, to think, a lot of people never learn what that feels like.

So today, a bright sun lightens my mood, a late call for work, and working with peeps I enjoy and like a bunch.   

I look forward to the future,

I got my camera out and took a few photos, and at a nice berm which you could make into a jump, I pushed the tape in, leaning.   and as each rider came to the berm, I think they knew what I wanted.  Air.

Cheers!  david


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