Lull

I'm not sure what the bottom of a wave is called,  not the crest, but the smooth body being pulled up, sucked in, with such incredible enerygy.

My tires are glued and resting, setting stong and firm.


From the first time I hit up the laps at the new CX workout location, I kept thinking of the photo, the sun, setting into the tree line.  Riders working.   The tall grass holding the edges of light.

for some, ... This week, its the butterflies in the stomach week, the nerves, uncertain.  Not me, not this year. I feel calm.  I feel a smile cracking at the side of my lips.   I don't care how I do.  I just wanna go out and ride hard, smart.   I've nothing to prove.  No one to beat.   Our Mid Atlantic Season, the MAC it starts this weekend.    I've got last years Nittany course in my mind.  and each night when I put my head down on my pillow, I think about the start, the layout, the corners....  but somehow, I feel that something new, that a twist will be added, this year.     I try to sleep prepared to expect something new.


My bikes are haggard, not shifting well, dented, scratched. worn, and beaten in well.   They are my old teams colors.  I'm trying to push them just a bit more, twisting the rag tight and getting the last good racing drops out of them.    I want new bikes.

a simple, good night.  not many words left now.  d.