Here's the end of Milan-San Remo, if you missed it...
The crit went off as usual last night, but it was a different vibe. Maybe it was just me...
We rolled through the neutral lap and half of the first race lap at 16mph, then all hell broke loose. Attack and chase was the rule for the first 25 minutes. Someone, not me, would attack and we'd all chase like hell and bring it back, only to have a counter go. Lather, rinse, repeat.
After 25 minutes of this, the ride got positively slow...for ten minutes. We lollygagged around, literally. At minute 35, the poo hit the fan again. I had rolled down the armwarmers early in the race and they were beginning to interfere with shifting and braking, so I sat up to pull them off. When the bunch came back around, the break was the bunch and the second group had dissipated into a chase of 5. I sat in for a few more laps and just threw in the towel. The heart wasn't in it last night...nor the legs, lungs or any other part needed to effectively race a bicycle. Some days you're the windshield and some days, you're the bug!
Doogie, Toby and Der Kaiser got in a break with three to go and held off the group. Doog waited too long to sprint and got nipped by a half wheel at the line.
I generally rode like crap and felt like crap for the rest of the night. The feeling continues today. I'm achy, crampy and in a foul mood...even moreso than usual.
I'm hoping I feel better by Thursday night...
Oh, and I'm 38 today...BFD!
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