That's right, my season of bike racing is officially over. We raced the famous famous Duo Normand in a not-record time of an hour and twelve minutes. The wind was howling and the rain was sideways, but the crowds were numerous and the course was clean. Kai and I suffered greatly, as you'd expect, and the soreness I feel throughout my legs would testify to the truth of my words. Jimmie Christmas that hurt! It hurt early on when we got a nice fast start, and settled into our rhythm. It hurt when the rain picked up and stung my skin and blinded my eyes. It hurt when we hit the rollers at 30k -- every one of those beasts was a kick to the lungs and a punch to the quads. Staying aero while climbing a hill feels vaguely like being put in a full-nelson, only self-inflicted. Things really got painful inside the last ten kilometers, once our two-minute men were in view, and the smell of the finish line entered our nostrils in earnest. We passed those wankers with about 5k left to go. I suffered a mild "bio-mechanical" with 3k left, the gasket of my pain threshold finally blowing it's seal for good. Kai dragged me the final few kilometers at a pace that disappointed us both: he could have gone faster, and I knew it. Good for fifteenth place. Not bad. Not a bad note to end on.
Now I'm off to Paris. Gotta go, the train's a leavin'!
2 comments:
Love the writing, hope you find a good affordable replacement gasket. I bet business school will be a lot less painful, but also a lot less fun!
Ouch...! But damn, you got to go to France. And you still get to visit Paris some more!
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