It was a tough weekend for me. The racing was tough enough, let alone hitting the turf hard both days. When I got home, tired and thinking----
I looked up at the horse shoe hanging above my door and walked over and gave it a rub, a rub for some luv' from the cyclocross gods.
I don't really want or need any love or luck. I had a great weekend. I raced hard and somehow I think I learned something or two.
I held back the first day, and did not protect my line. I paid for it.
I went harder today, and still gave in a bit and let a gap open because I was afraid to put in a "too hard of" effort.
In closing that gap, trying to come back to the group I rolled a tire.
I had more to give, I found out, as I ran to the pit and red lined the rest of the race trying to make up for my naive glueing abilities.
Later I asked a few questions, What line did you ride through the mud? Did you remount before or after the tree?
and in a brief conversation with Adam Myerson I got his insight into the last two corners of his race, the small hole he left open, where no one thought you could pass, and where he got beat.
Me a frikin old guy, still learning what I can. I love cross because of this, of riding up to someone, someone with a load more talent and skill, and talking to them.
I got to the race early today, and enjoyed watching the first race. The desire.
Cheers, may your tires stay stuck on tight, fucking don't give up your line, and you can go harder. dlowe.
1 comment:
love
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