Today I got punched in the stomach. Kicked in the shins, and slapped about.
That's good, very good.
Everything was a bit off, I worked a long 14 hours yesterday, and tried my best to lie to myself that I could make this a good 1st day.
and about the end of the 1st lap, I was on the back of the group.
didn't matter.
the last two laps I lifted my chin, I encourage my foes, I attacked out of corners, I tried to pick it up, to ride my hardest.
In the starting grid, my mouth ran a bit too much,
I was staged in the back,
and was connecting the dots
Who was fast off the line, who was a bull in the china shop,
and No Marc.
I'm not dower about my results. It was just , Not, an epic battle day.
I did a bit of strolling in the flea market by the course, chatting it up a bit.
I bought some tin types, picked 4 out of a box of 100's.
I love photography,
my wife said... "oh, how nice. these were special to someone at one time".
that's this season, It's just us old guys racing, and no one knows our names, and the results, will disappear, won't have any factor in the day to day of this world.
At work yesterday, I saw some tired folk, and the drain of the day, and I thought, this ain't nothing,
you've never been a deluxx sandwich. The battles I've been in this year have been good.
Cross makes us bad mofo's.
Cheers, Dlowe.
A speedy recovery to you Marc, heal up right, and bring back the battles strong. A big thanks to you, for making the racing grand, and the memories deep.
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