The Bill Came Due.
The back of the right thigh feels like someone took a rusty steak knife to it. At certain times it's just a dull ache, and other times that sadistic bastard twists the blade a bit.
It's my fault.
I cramped up because I didn't drink enough at Bodenburg. Check that. I didn't drink at all at Bodenburg. I just rode around with two full bottles the whole race, because I needed the extra weight for... um... training. It was also the longest ride I'd done this year, with some exertions that I certainly wouldn't have done on my own.
The last lap I could feel it coming on. I felt the slow burn creeping up the back of my leg, and knew it wasn't a question of if, but when. The leg was going to lock up. It was going to be painful. I was an idiot.
When Tom and Bill made their move, I tried to bridge, and I flailed in the wind until the finish, my leg was wrapped in sharp, stabbing pain. I kept pushing until I was sure I had held off the group behind, then limped over the finish line. I spun it out as best I could, kicked my feet up in the RV, and tried to waterboard myself for the next few hours with limited success.
I could feel the damage in the crit, but there were a lot of points on the line and I had only the vaguest idea of where I stood. I tried to race, but ended up botching the whole thing with moronic tactical decisions based on self-delusions. It really doesn't matter, because it was mathematically impossible to catch Bill anyway. Tom was nice to take himself out of contention, and gifted me his position on the podium. For Sith Lords, Bill and Tom are great guys.
Sunday was Mother's Day, so I didn't ride. Even if I wanted to, I would have chose discretion over getting killed by my wife. We took the RV down to a campground by Turnagain Arm and sat around by the fire roasting various highly-processed foods. It was a good way to spend the afternoon. At least I didn't have to fight the wind.
Yeah, I'm going to pay for racing the Spring Stage Race. The monetary part and the physical damage part. However, given that I found I still enjoy racing (even in my bloated state), it was worth it. Looking at the calendar, it may be a while before I line up again, but at least the last memory I have of racing won't be hitting the pavement in turn three of Kulis.
Some things are priceless.
It's my fault.
I cramped up because I didn't drink enough at Bodenburg. Check that. I didn't drink at all at Bodenburg. I just rode around with two full bottles the whole race, because I needed the extra weight for... um... training. It was also the longest ride I'd done this year, with some exertions that I certainly wouldn't have done on my own.
The last lap I could feel it coming on. I felt the slow burn creeping up the back of my leg, and knew it wasn't a question of if, but when. The leg was going to lock up. It was going to be painful. I was an idiot.
When Tom and Bill made their move, I tried to bridge, and I flailed in the wind until the finish, my leg was wrapped in sharp, stabbing pain. I kept pushing until I was sure I had held off the group behind, then limped over the finish line. I spun it out as best I could, kicked my feet up in the RV, and tried to waterboard myself for the next few hours with limited success.
I could feel the damage in the crit, but there were a lot of points on the line and I had only the vaguest idea of where I stood. I tried to race, but ended up botching the whole thing with moronic tactical decisions based on self-delusions. It really doesn't matter, because it was mathematically impossible to catch Bill anyway. Tom was nice to take himself out of contention, and gifted me his position on the podium. For Sith Lords, Bill and Tom are great guys.
Sunday was Mother's Day, so I didn't ride. Even if I wanted to, I would have chose discretion over getting killed by my wife. We took the RV down to a campground by Turnagain Arm and sat around by the fire roasting various highly-processed foods. It was a good way to spend the afternoon. At least I didn't have to fight the wind.
Yeah, I'm going to pay for racing the Spring Stage Race. The monetary part and the physical damage part. However, given that I found I still enjoy racing (even in my bloated state), it was worth it. Looking at the calendar, it may be a while before I line up again, but at least the last memory I have of racing won't be hitting the pavement in turn three of Kulis.
Some things are priceless.
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