ouch that hurt.
the whole goddang time i was thinking about my sammich in the car. peanut butter, marmalade and golden raisins. yum.
i discovered pretty quickly that my breakpads would screech everytime i squeezed them -- a lot like the terrified squeek Daisy makes when we go to pick her up:
"Eeeeech i'm scared, you're getting too close!"
i'll just use the front brakes, i thought. no problemo.
along comes the decent.
"eeeeech, i'm scared, i'm going too fast! "
sideways looks from proman.
"eeeeeech, i'm scared, i'm going too fast!"
sideways looks from Tibco.
"sorry," I say, "i took the bike in on Monday and they swore that they'd fixed them. i even tested them on Tuesday, or was it wednesday, well anyhow, sometime last week. and they worked fine."
She's really not interested.
as we cross the overpass, i want to hop off my bike and quietly toss it over the edge.
on we go...i get popped the third time up that hill. the follow motorcycle tries to get me to dig a little harder.
I want to hop off my bike and take his. see him dig a little harder...but really he was so sweet.
after the race i got that feeling. you know the one where you're whacked out on endorphins and you freaking love everyone.
"Good job, good job, you can do it," to a bystander zipping up their jacket.
"Way to go, way to go," to a man emerging from a port-a-pottie.
"Looking good, looking good," to a cow on the side of the road chewing grass.
post race. that's why i race.
9 comments:
HAHAHAHA LOL your crazy brake pads.
Ahem, sorry.
I like that last bit of your report about the post-race enforphins. SO TRUE. Except then the part 30 minutes later when they wear away and you're left with that hungry tired endlessly critiquing yourself feeling.
you're funny.
i love those little endorfins too.
That was brutal! Great job staying in there -- you're much tougher than m (and a lot of other people, too, according to the results).
PB, marmalade & golden raisins? I have all those thing at home, might have to give it a try...
"Good job, good job, you can do it," to a bystander zipping up their jacket.
"Way to go, way to go," to a man emerging from a port-a-pottie.
"Looking good, looking good," to a cow on the side of the road chewing grass.
I love it. Can't wait for tomorrow's dose of endorphins....
junkies
I never hear your brakes screeching...oh, that's cuz' I'm deaf...
watch out for those post race endorphins that last long enough to make you pre-register for a race that you don't really want to do...
ssssh you...
to clarify...I registered for wente after postrace endorphins from Zamora....
Oh -- I love those endorphins. I do.
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