Back to the Big Frog 65...
After I finished, I went over to the guy who had beat me, Motor Mile Racing's Micheal Reardon. I told him I had no idea that it was him behind me on the last long stretch... I never woulda just pulled him to the finish line with that big of a gap on the green giant. He explained that he thought I was totally aware of the situation. I walked away to go bathe in the river, and as I got further from him I realized that mighta sounded like a dickhead thing to say on my part.
So after I splashed around in the river, I had to go find him and apologize. He wasn't being sneaky as much as I was being an idiot. I've seen enough Tour day France breakaway finishes to know that it shoulda came down to a cat and mouse game. I wonder what he was thinking while I was mindlessly drilling it or when I asked him if he wanted to come around...
"Does this guy actually have shit for brains?"
Back at the car, finally shivering and trying to change whilst holding a conversation, a mud clump fell outta my bibs as I disrobed. Sick. I dry-scrubbed the goods, poured a beer into my travel mug, and went back to spectate the finish. I say it was a beer, but being that beer was not allowed at the Ocoee Whitewater Center, let's say it was just Mr Pib. I had spent $30+ on Mr Pibs the day before to ensure good times while waiting for Luke to finish the hundie, and I had no plans to let a "No Mr Pib rule" stand in my way.
The riders trickled in, some looking none the worse for wear, others shivering and very hypothermic.
"Hypothermia is a myth... like the female orgasm," I proclaimed.
Strange to see who was shivering and who wasn't and what they chose to wear. Makes you wonder how it all works. I have already mentioned my wardrobe yesterday, and I was wearing much less than some of the shivering bodies...
It's a myth. Pretty sure. Maybe they were just having "female orgasms." Who knows?
Let's face it. Had I won, it would've been a pretty boring story. The difference between 1st and 2nd was $25 more in the envelope... less than I spent on beverages the day before. The whole situation was funny enough to keep my chuckling during my many lengthy walks back to the car for more Mr Pib. In the end, I'm stoked on my current fitness level and average speed over 65 miles in the rain. I might add that climbing with ten pounds less me (compared to previous years) feels really nice, and a whole lot nicer than when I was twenty pounds heavier this past winter.
Fortunately for me, Luke had a nice meltdown out on the hundie course, giving me plenty of time to hang out after my race. Then there was Mexican food, novelty sized Dos Equis, a welcoming invite to stay at a cabin, hot tub beers, and pleasant company.
I am not disappointed in the least...
Well it woulda been nice to see Sideshow Garth "Davy Jones Buju Banton" Prosser go down, being that he is the source of all my problems.
Oh yeah, pretty much everybody.
Of course, there was a certain lack of respect for the NUE Sport Class race over at XXC Mag.
Time to get what I can ready for the next event this weekend. For now, the Misfit diSSent Brontoawesomeous Meatplow V.5 will hang on the wall until such time that I can prepare it for the Trans-Sylvania Epic stage race. All other needs are being addressed and dispatched forthwith.
Just so you know, it works on shoes as well. Dope shit.