So you saw the race number. Best race number ever, period!
Anyway, Doog and I rolled up to Greenville bright and GD early on Saturday morning for a little cross action. Nothing says cross like 48 degrees, mist and wind...great...
We got there early, got kitted up and went out to ride the course. The race was at the old Millstone Golf club, which has obviously been closed for quite a while. To call it overgrown would be an understatement. The course was great, but NOT built for big bodies like me. I was okay, but the fact that it had two homely climbs and one just plain UGLY climb dictated that I would not be dicing for the W.
Once the gun went off, the front 8 stayed together until BIG UGLY. The front three, including our diminitive friend, rode away at this point. I was in the second group...spots 4 through 8. I was riding comfortably, biding my time, secure in the knowledge that I could go harder and maybe get away from the guys I was with. On the second approach to the double barriers, I chose to make a little move, went into the wet grass with entirely too much speed and ate a big, steaming pile of shit. I grabbed too much rear brake and the bike just came out from under me. I crashed HARD on my left hip, elbow and shoulder, which didn't scrub off as much speed as I expected. My forward momentum was finally arrested by the 20" high barrier. It looked a little like I was trying to break up a double play...while still attached to a cross bike! I laid there for a long moment, taking inventory of what, if anything was hurt, bleeding, and/or protruding. Luckily, I was okay, and continued on my happy way about 60 seconds later.
By this point, my little group had vanished, and I was 14th. The fight was pretty much taken out of me at that point, but I still managed to pass a couple of guys and ended up 12th.
As for Doog, he rode away and won solo, about 30 seconds up. It was a course that was tailor made for him and he flat killed it! Nice ride midget!
This morning, I woke up with a stiff neck, shoulder, elbow, wrist and back. I have nice, softball-sized strawberry on my hip, even though I went down in the grass.
Doog and I met, with little fanfare, @ 9 to ride. We rolled through campus and across to 12th street. One big effort later and we decided, in unison, that dead legs and sore bodies were in abundance, so we turned and rolled home. A big 90 minutes on the bike!
As if I'm not stiff and sore enough, I proceeded to cut up, and split (BY HAND!) and entire oak tree. The chainsaw part was about 10 minutes. The balance of the 2 hours was filled with me swinging an axe. Several wheelbarrow trips later, the wood was stacked in a tidy pile and equaled about 1/2 cord. Rocky training MFer!
I have nothing left...empty...