I sat on the couch last night and thought about how much life is in a 45ish minutes of a cross race.
Then, it's much More, from the minute my alarm goes off on race day, and I lift my head off my pillow, eating, poops, music for the ride. The course pre-ride and finding good lines, rocks, segments that I know I'll have to fight getting dropped on.
Twisting the pedal up a hair, in the grid, and knowing that the offical starting ya has quick lips to the whistle so be ready.
This mud, these last races, it lets you know, how you respond, and judge yourself, does'nt it? It does for me.
One race weak, next race strong, and both I finish in 5th place.
Of all the seasons of racing, loud mouths hecklers, weeded out, training mates, strong. Blogs dead.
and what I feel out there, I work for it, earned, and it never seems easy,
To you, a pat on the back, well done.
It is a small boat, but we all seem to fit in.
Cheers!
dlowe
