Now I must admit, the "Amigo" (that's really the cart's name) was pretty cool. I have never gotten as much attention by the ladies at Kroger as I did in that baby, but I still don't want to be back there.
Once I got around the crash and got rolling again the peleton was gone. I spent the next 15 minutes riding solo. I was angry, but not disappointed, I told myself to ride it out and chalk it up to bad luck. I loaded the bike up and vowed to have a stronger result next time.
Over the next few weeks I continued my training, I was feeling stronger with every ride. I also began to think about what I could do different for the next race, you know, have a strategy. I came across a photo of myself from the first race and realized immediately my first problem. Let me share...
I needed a new kit. I look like Joseph & The Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. I'm sporting more colors than a swatch wall at your local Home Depot. I also realized that even though I've lost a lot of weight, I still need the XL jersey. That 1000 Island is still kickin my ass. So, I got online and ordered a brand new kit, size XL. I felt faster already. I also didn't look like I was smuggling grapefruits across the border.
For about a year, Kimberly has joked with me about going to get a pedicure. I always gave a typical Bid Daddy " Yeah Yeah Buddy" (Big Daddy is my dad & that is his response to everything) response and went about my day. But this past Saturday it clicked in my head, healthy feet must be faster feet. I hopped in the car and headed to Magic Nails. I jumped into the massage chair next to my wife and got settled in. After a quick scan of the room I realized I was in unchartered waters. The room was full of middle aged women texting and reading US Weekly, the room also seemed to get quiet, like I had interrupted a group 'my husband is a no good SOB' session. The young lady came over and it was my turn, I was nervous, as this photo shows...
The first thing she did was place my feet in a foot bath. She began to fill it with water, hot water, my damn dawgs were on fire, but I'm a man and I could take it, okay, I took it for like two minutes. Depressing Pedicure Moment 1: I had to ask for cooler water.
Once the water got to a manageable temperature, it felt great. I was really enjoying myself. I got my nails clipped, my cuticles somethinged and a really good foot massage. But then she asked a scary question. "Do you want the razor?" I looked over at my wife and she just began to laugh. I hesitantly shook my head up and down. The next thing I knew, she was shaving the bottom of my feet like a block of Parmesan cheese. Skin was falling to the floor like it was snowing. I was amazed. That bring us to Depressing Pedicure Moment 2: she announced to the entire store that when she was done, I would probably need a new shoe size. Nice. I buried my face in my US Weekly, I mean Sports Illustrated, and cringed. After another massage with some blue tingly jelly I was done. My feet felt great. Another wave of fast came over me.
Race Day. I spent the night before getting everything in order. I cleaned my bike, lubed the chain and filled my water bottles with my new favorite sports drink. If you have not tried the Gu Blueberry Pomegrante drink mix, run to your local bike shop and pick it up, it's great. I ate a good breakfast and lunch. I was ready. I got to the course early and signed in. They gave me number 266. I got dressed and headed to take some warm up laps...
Everything was feeling good. They announced 5 minutes till start. I rode over to the family for some last minute good luck. I took my position on the line and got focused. In the first race I lined up in the back, didn't work out very well. So this time I lined up on the second row. I just wanted to get off the line and through the first corner closer to the front. The started yelled "Go" and we were off. Ten yards into the start I knew I was in trouble. I went from top 10 to almost last place immediately. Where the hell was everyone going so fast, we just started? I pulled back up to the pack and tried to get into a rhythm. I held this position for all of 2 1/2 laps. They were gone, just like race one, only this time I had no excuse for being dropped other than my lack of speed.
I spent the next 15 minutes riding solo again. This time I was pissed. Being the guy people clap for because you are sticking with it is not fun. The same guy did it every lap, I wanted to tell him to shove his clap up his ass, but I was out of breath. Once again I put my head down and stuck with it. The whole time thinking how could this happen, I have a proper fitting kit and healthy feet. As I crossed the finish line my kids were there cheering me on, I think they thought I might have won since there was no one else around. I took a cool down lap to compose myself and then rode back to the finish and unclipped.
Race 2 - not good. But there is one race left on May 18th, and one more chance to stay with the group. My plan this time is not to over-think it, just let it happen. But now I gotta go, I'm late for my pedicure.
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