rode over by a Walker

I wasn't able to fulfill my recommended weekend allowance of cross racing. Saturday morning, super early, about 9:30 I got a call from the chief official of the American Cycling Association telling me that the race for the day had been postponed. It was with mixed emotions I had received the call. Though the main emotions were fatigue and hang-over-ed-ness, others in there were relief, as there was snow on the ground outside my window that hadn't been there just 5 hours earlier when I arrived home, and confusion for two reasons: why was Yvonne van Gent calling me, and why were they postponing a cross race due to bad weather. I still have answers to neither.

Sunday would prove better conditions, bodily and weather wise, for cross racing. Boulder races are always fun because all the people never leave boulder show up to race. (Are visas to leave boulder county hard to get? Are the people made up of some ultra-magnetic material, and there is a giant electromagnet on the Pearl Street Mall? Have the Boulder cyclists been doomed to ride only in boulder county, and they spontaneously combust at the county line?) Most Boulderites are fast and have skill, so it makes for a good time nonetheless. Managed to make the lead group of 6 after the first lap, all stoked with position and the meat sticks were feeling good too. Then rounding a bumpy off camber turn my bike decided it REALLY wanted to commune with the ground. Given no choice, I joined it. One former U-23 world champ, who happened to be on my wheel, decided that he would ride over me while I went prostrate to the technical difficulty of the course. His bike saw mine lingering on the ground and decided that they should perform some sort of mating ritual. My bike took to the idea immediately. My left leg was the only thing standing between the starcrossed lovers, and it paid the price. (see exhibit A) I slowly got up, dusted myself off, straightened my handlebar, and brake levers, gave the bike a once over, and got back on.

exhibit A1 exhibit A2

After a slow ride to the pit, I got on my spare bike, and proceeded to ride. One of my friends was nice enough to get my Limba ready to ride again. After the 6 or so laps it took me to work my way back through the field, from 40th or so back up to 5th, I decided it was time to get back on the light, fast, fully functional Limba I had wanted to race. I took the bike handup about 5 steps before a double barrier, fumbled the handup, and went ass over axle over the first barrier, eating a healthy serving of dirt between the two barriers. Once the group I had been with and the group behind them passed me, I got up, again, dusted myself off, again, and took a bike change, again. I managed to pass a few people back, and ended the day bloodied and 15th in the results. Just ahead of Andy "The Legend" Hamsten.