Sunday, August 16, 2009

biting the racing bug back (one little nibble at a time)

French Creek '09: Bean's jersey, C3 bibs...for the first time ever, finger-less gloves (consensus...ugh, those blisters don't look cute with my party frock and heels). Warm-up? (yes, please, in brutal, soupy, near-90 degree heat...I find myself begging Anne Rock to pedal around with me and proceed to prattle forth every drop of anxiety & race angst inside me...something akin to, "blah blah blah, I'm so freaking nervous blah blah blah mono blah blah blah been off the bike for blah blah blah...") Anne, please, do us both a favor and slap me. Marcus gives us the go (there are no fewer than 4 in my class...I realize this is likely my last mountain bike race in the 34-under bracket. so what?)... My son is on the sidelines frantically shouting, "GO KIMMMMMMYYYYY!!!" (you mean, mom?) The race: is greasy, slippy, mucky, and hot. Sticky, how-can-I-get-around-my-breathing hot. Colossal bungle in the first little rock garden puts me in second, third buzzes by shortly thereafter...who are these girls?? Turn myself inside-out keeping second in sight and only advance when the nasty descent before Purple wrecks her badly...help is quickly assembled, I am ushered on... Yikes...take it easier on the remaining down down down until the final push up that ever-unrelenting Orange climb... crampity-cramps, I've never met quite the likes of you before. Ouch, let's wrap this up. Nearing the finish, I hear that familiar scratchy voice again, "Mom, come on!! Go KIMMMMYYYY!!!" awesome. I am a sweaty, heaving mess...delighted & drenched to the bone. Ew. "Mom, you didn't have a good race. You had a great race." Awww. Such a blast to be in the mix, on the bike, and among some of my favorite people. ugh...so gonna pay for this tomorrow...maybe even all week.

1 comment:

Dirty Girl said...

Awesome job on Sunday! Now it's outta your system and you can focus on cross. Glad I didn't have to smack you.