hello crappy race report

gawdamn bike racing.

Coupla days of critty-crits to fill the time and burn the lungs this weekend. On Saturday a bunch of us BagBoys went on up to Suckramento for the Rio Strada crits. It was the first time us geezers got to play in the p/1/2 field before our normal geriatrics race ... so, that was fun.

Ended up being me n' 7 others in a break for most the day. After a bit of geezer mentoring, we ended up getting our goof together and rode away from the field. I did my best to lash them kids, but for some reason those boys wouldn't let me go and I ended up finishing ass-end of the break. I'm going to have to be on gawdamn good form to ride away from those kids. Soon.

Luckily, MIT-Reade saved our egos with a storming 5 laps solo effort in the geezer race. What a win. We covered everything pretty damn well and had ourselves a good time. To add dollars to the beer fund, Captain Bennett nailed 2nd, as well. yippee. Actually, we had 3 BagBoys in the top 10 with PAB getting 7th. Not bad for a bunch of blackards.

- - -

Sunday was, apparently, my turn to block up the toilet. In the geezer's race, me n' Bosch went away late and I did my best to sap out his sprinter's legs. On the last lap I attacked that sum'bitch twice and had a decent lil' gap coming into the final meters ~ but his horsepower was bigger than mine and he nipped around me in the final couple pedalstrokes.

gawdamnit.

Then, in the prosey's race ... another long break-day with delaFuentes, hawknose Briggs, LaBergey, and Bosch again. Fuentes did most the work with Bosch a strong 2nd. Those guys really made the break stick and were pulling damn hard, damn fast. I didn't miss pulls and was pedaling with everything I had, but I was definitely the weakest link. I hate being the weakest link. And, of course, Briggs only pulled the bare minimum.

With 6 to go, Laberge started flat out sitting on and the other boys were getting nervous about his sprinting prowess. I just kept rolling through as hard as I could to keep the speed up because the pack was only 30 seconds back. I wasn't about to waste all that pain by getting swarmed up the ass on lap 0.

Bosch tried taking Laberge off the back but they both made it back on. Dean acquiesced and started taking pulls again - but they were just soft pedals. Well, as we closed in on the final lap I figured I might as well be the sacrificial lamb and start the fireworks. With 4 sprinters and little ole 98 pound weakling me, I figured snapping them with recovery would be my only chance. I stole away first, but Fuentes drug me back. We had a little gap and so I pulled a few pedalstrokes after he made contact to see if he wanted to go away - nope. He knows what I think about his steroid test and I think we'll be doing this kind of battle for a long time to come. Ah well.

Briggs countered when the rest caught on and nobody chased. I attacked 3 more times to get away, each one weaker than the last. My legs went rubbery like the Trojan factory. It was pathetic and I was done.

And so, 5th.

7th, 2nd, 5th. me=crap. But, i sure did have fun and my form is coming up, up, up.

so ... mission accomplished.

here endeth the gay race report.