One last thing:
The XC race yesterday at Mt. Hood Skibowl totally hammered me. I even crashed hard on the first lap. Which is sucky because for an oldster like me that totally takes the wind out of my sails. At my age, one just doesn't pop right back up and take off. No. It takes a bit longer for all the bits and pieces to report in with an "A-OK". And then you've lost your rhythm so the rest of the race is like your first dance with an actual girl where you're completely awkward and stepping all over her feet and just can't get with it.
I mean-- after I almost got ran over by the guy barreling down the trail after me, I rolled over to the side and felt a spreading warm wetness across my chest. I thought my forearm was jetting blood on my jersey. No. Just my Camelbak leaking.
And I think I bonked. Maybe just a little. Or maybe it was the altitude. Or maybe I was wishing I was at home on the futon watching re-runs of the Tour and eating a donut.
Last Wombat in Mecca - I guess I wasn’t listening to Steve Miller’s band in 1969 when I was fourteen…otherwise I would have heard of the above-mentioned song! The lyrics are juic...
1 week ago