Refracted Reflections

When I came across the line I could hear a few "Nice work, Dicky!" type comments.

"Meh" was about all I had to say about that.

I don't think I've ever finished a race with much to say. Win, podium, or totally blown out, the feeling's always pretty similar for me. I'm just really glad it's over.

This is how you should cross the line when you win:

Kelly has it down, although he didn't get his jersey zipped up (rookie). I don't think I've ever crossed the finish line with both arms in the air. I remember coming in with one fist in the air at the 2001 Prolyte (now the Burn 24 Hour Challenge). I knew that I had won, and I finished in a dramatic lightning/hail storm. Minutes later, I was checking with the results and found out that they had given me second place. I had to argue my way back to the top step of the podium, so the thrill was short lived and awkward.

Maybe that experience has left me gun shy. I'm afraid to even use the word "gun" being that it might spark a gun control debate in my comments, but that's not the guns I'm talking about...

As much as I ever think I want to win, it never feels as good as it looks on others. I gotta work on that.

On the drive home from ORAMM, I was a ball of cramps. I stopped at a Taco Bell 1.9 miles off the highway (assholes), and ordered five items at random. When I realized I forgot my empty water bottle in the car, I decided I would rather not drink than either use a throw away cup or walk back out to the car to retrieve my vessel. I'd rather cramp.

Almost fell asleep on the drive home, ate some cookies, destroyed four eggs and toast, and was passed out on the couch before 9:00PM.

I had told former Industry Nine beardface Jeff Baucom that perhaps that was enough ORAMM's for me. Eight starts, four wins, two seconds, one third, and a seventh. Too many trips up Curtis Creek Road, and too much thought process used up in the planning process. Plenty of sub-six hour finishes and none under 5:30.

Yet I know what I would do different in 2013. The last three years I slept close to the start, and the last three years I've been 7th, 2nd, and 3rd. I'd go back to sleeping in my own bed and in control of my Saturday routine. With one more failed attempt, I've also finally got a handle on the "bottle math," and I'm not sharing that secret with anyone.

Ego, pride, boredom... who knows?

What else am I gonna do at the end of July?