This will probably be the last of it.

The night before the race, Miss December (AKA Layla) was stuffing her new saddle bag with her race necessities. Once she filled it with a tube, 2 CO2's, tire levers, and peanut M&M's, it was so massive that it rubbed her thighs. Not having any Awesome to spare, we did the next best yet worst thing.

The peanut M&M's did not make the cut.

My success at the 2012 Pisgah Eleventy-One has impacted the international cycling community on an emotionally turgid level. Canadian Peter of Misfit Psycles (2011 frame sponsor and 2012 50% frame sponsor) was kind enough to offer up a backhanded facebook congratulatory compliment.

They're even talking about my amazing victory over on some Greek mountain bike forum:

According to Google Translate:

"Must be known in this struggle, and apparently the Pisgah Dicky (like screaming) has the well with the legs to get up there (+ with SS)!!!

But first he lost his way and he took the first, hahaha!

Here is the loom, though the last Fox put 100ri"
Henceforth and here and now I will be knownas "Pisgah Dicky (like screaming)."

Google Translate = Fail

hahaha!

The major injury that I sustained in the fall off the side of Squirrel Gap is a nice shade of purples, greens, yellows, and reds.

That would be the side of my upper thigh shot from an angle that shields my winkie from view (Pie's orders, sorry). I have many other bruises, scrapes, cuts, and abrasions about my body, as one might expect to receive while doing a 70 mile race in the Pisgah.

As happy as I am with my result at the Pisgah Eleventy-One, I am also bothered by the fact that I let myself go to my dark place once again. It got me to thinking about the time Thom did some interviews with a few of the winnery type folks before the NUE Cohutta 100 this year asking:

"What’s the most self-defeating thought you’ve ever had during a bike race?"

Amanda Carey: "That's where the control comes in. I can't control if my legs happen to be bad, but I can control how I deal with it."

Christian Tanguy: "Goal #1 at each race: reach the finish line in one piece. "

Justin Lindine: "...conveniently I have a pretty short term memory for that kind of negativity and my stubbornness keeps me coming back."

Matt Ferrari: "But that day, if it hadn't been for the fact that I knew no other way back
to the finish other than to follow the race course, I would have dropped. Some lessons were learned."

Gerry "The Pflug" Pflug: "I’m a positive person and I also have a lot of fight in me. If something goes wrong, I fix it, forget about it and then start riding hard again. I'll eat someone if I have to in order to win."

That's the difference between me and the racers who know how to win. They learn their lessons, keep their head in the game, and are willing to eat people if they have to in order to cross the finish line in first place. When I found myself injured and fading back into oblivion, I checked out of the race, despite the fact that it was less than a third of the way over. I should know better. So much can happen in an endurance race, and what seems like the end is often just a new beginning....

Which brings me to this:

photo cred: Brado

Brado snagged this photo as I was starting the climb up Laurel. I had already attacked all the way up 1206 determined to keep the hammer down all the way to the highest point on the course in order to catch the ghost of Geoffrey Bergmark. Why? Because I managed to catch three riders after I stopped feeling sorry for myself and got my head back into the game. I should know by now that I'll never be an early model Prefontaine and lead from start to finish. My modus operandi (in the races I do well at) is always a fast start, back off and let people get out ahead, and then reel them in on the big climbs later in the day.

I need to learn patience.

Or how to eat people with no remorse.

If you remember my depressing post from last Friday, this group might look familiar.

Me (on the left, barefoot), Dan, Doug, Clayton, Paul, Don, and Ron

Yes, I used to run barefoot on our home course and a few others. It was the rigid single speed of the times. I thought about the late Dan Dunlap off and on during the race. As I descended down lower Black to the finish, my shuffle selected The Guitar Song.

Dan would have approved.

That's the last of the Pisgah Eleventy-One story.

photo cred: Watts

It was fun, but I need to get back to business. The Trans-Sylvania Epic starts Sunday, and I don't even have my make-up bag packed yet.