crap! no time to post ...
stupid work.
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sometimes you choose ... unwisely.
In most field sprints, there are these millisecond decisions that need to be made ... it's instinct and the more you do it, the more you rely on your gut to act for you.
And then there are those sprints that develop like molasses, pooling up in a bright crystaline ball that rolls sticky-sappy down your gullet.
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As we were careening down the backside of MeowBox Hill, I could feel the sprinters crawling up my backside. It itched and wiggled and distracted me from my goal. It loops over and over again on the mindscreen ... why didn't you blast past that boy and take the turn first? ...
Ah well.
12 comments:
and it's no fun when there's no racing for a couple weeks to wash the taste out of your mouth with something sweeter
but we'll try to take your mind off it at kern
la femme did a good job of that last night.
mmm...I love you
oh, and that was for Michael, not Ben!
But I do like Ben lots and lots.
we all love ben, even if he can't hold his liquor.
and, this blog has been entirely too schmoop free of late.
time to change that.
your readership agrees
you are way overdue on a good love poem
i may be sorry that i encouraged you....
Disclaimer. I am not a good sprinter.
Way back like 20 years ago I was in a break at the Modesto Crit. There was pretty big money on the line. At least big money for 1986. Anyway, between turns three and four on the last lap I heard a loud voice in my head that said "GO! NOW!!!". The "smart" part of me said, "Don't do that you moron, that's what you always do and lose. Wait until 200 to go like the sprinters do." Not more than 2 seconds later (if that) Glen Winkle jumped like he was reading my mind. He won. I got 6th I think. Which of course was better than the guy who sprinted with 1 to go, threw his arms up and rode off the course... :-) But I still remember that moment. There are other memories like that one. All are burned in my mind for eternity.
But we learn from our mistakes and sometimes we get a chance to redeem ourselves and listen to the little voice that just out of nowhere shouts at you to do something. I heard that voice on Sunday nearing the crest on Castro Ranch. I listened to what it said, and it was right. I didn't win, but it was absolutely the right move. Better one on one against a mutant than one against 15 or 20...
Kevin, Dan is not a mutant.
He's Canadian.
Olaf, you just never know. Yes, jumping before the corner and going through first might have done the trick. Probably would have.
But you just never know.
It is part of why sprint wins are so exciting.
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Let's go train in the desert...
if I go now I will only be leading everyone out...
if I wait I won't be able to generate the speed to overcome their momentum...
if I sit on this wheel it may not take me close enough, or I may wait to long...
I should be first on this corner, third on that one, and no further up than six on the other...
Wait, who's behind me and how far...that changes everything!
...Damn
I guess that means you actually have to finish the race, damn! OV I am sure it stings, but it will stoke that fire inside like a mother. I pity the poor fools in OV's next race. I am sure the next few training sessions of sprintervals will have even more habenero sauce on it.
The hardest part of racing for me is the ruminations and second guessing after every race.
Nicholson awaits you next year. You can be first through the corner and claim your righful prize.
Second guessing second.
Guessing second guessing.
I wonder what the other 75 folks are thinking about.
Easy to say from the top of the podium :)
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