Sunday, September 10, 2006

Soggy Bottom Girl

Whew! Long ass day! Wake up at 3:40AM. Make coffee and try to come to life. Check email to see if anybody loves me. Sweet...someone does love me. Answer email while trying to choke down a bowl of cereal. Think about the fact that one measely bowl of cereal is not likely to last the 2 hour drive to Chappell Hill, Texas, much less the 50 mile road race I have ahead of me. Find racing uniform and round up all neccessary items for racing: clothes to change into, heart rate monitor strap, water bottles complete with electrolyte replacement drink, etc. Convince dog to come outside while I drive around to load the bike, pump, and gear bag into the car. Drive back around to the house to get food for racing...not gonna last 50 miles without food on the bike. Do one last check, call the dog back in, and hit the road. Now it's 4:40AM.

On the road to one white knuckle drive in dense fog to the race which is between Austin and Houston. Paranoia starts early after nearly hitting a car on Highway 290 that is simply stopped in the middle of the damn road. Really nervous and attentive now. Notice that you don't have to think about it very hard to give yourself vertigo by imagining that you are driving straight down because it's so foggy that there is not frame of reference for which way is up. Stop for a potty break, a Monster, and a granola bar. Feeling much better now. Get to the race by 7AM, hit the potty again, register, get bike and stuff together and hit the road. Mentally prepare for a tortuous 50 mile race with my coach, a former pro and national champion, and a pack of 40-50 squirelly Master's men ages 45+/55+/65+. Turns out to be a really tame race with no extraordinary effort required on my part except for some really good bike handling skills. Lot's of bumping and bad riding required extra attention and professional courtesy to not yell back at the men who are blaming me and other women for crashing them out. But then I didn't have to, another woman yelled back for me to the discourteous gentleman who accused me of bad riding. Way to go, Kim...thanks for covering my back!

Race comes down to a field sprint with me fighting and bumping and jostling and doing whatever it takes to stay on Jen McRae's wheel. She goes with 1K to go and I'm right on her...for at least a couple of seconds...but then she's pulling away. Dang that woman can sprint! She and I both crack half way up the finishing hill but maintain 1st and 2nd in the women's field. Race is done by 10:30AM. Get changed, get recovery drink and head down to the finish to wait to collect prize money. Got my cash and I'm on the road by 11:30-ish. Stop off to eat at Quiznos...gotta reload. Back on the road by 12:30 and home by 2PM. Now completely exhausted...check for email (nope...nothing), take a shower, then lie down for a quick 30 minute nap before preparing to leave for a party.

Up again at 3PM. Check email...again. Dang...where is everybody??? Ooops, instant message coming through. Sweet...feeling the love again. Too bad there's no time to chat. Grab my things and head to Walsh Landing. This party's on a party boat complete with tons of food, soda, and beer. Starving again by now so I treat myself to 3 slices of pizza and some fruit and wash it all down with a Diet Coke. Playing phone tag with Jen. First she's coming, then she's not, then she is...we're pulling away from the dock and wait...she's here. Go back...get Jen and the kids. Okay, back on track. Head to the keg to partake in some adult beverages. Yum!

The boat gets anchored and everyone's jumping in for a swim...from the upper Who me? No effin way am I jumping from here! So I go down to the lower deck and jump in with the kids. Do I have a suit on? Hell no...but those of us who didn't think it would be this hot decide that suits don't matter.'s hot so we'll dry off by the time we dock at 8PM, right? Nearly drown cause I don't swim great and I'm tired from racing and I've had 3 or so beers by now. Yes, please...a swim noodle would be devine! The kids want thing I know, Jen and Chann McRae's oldest daughter, Henna, is jumping from the upper deck into the water. Not once, but twice. Great! I had no intention of jumping from the upper deck of a party boat but the 6-year-old is flying off like it's no big deal. Almost as bad as the 4-year-olds that fly down the ski slopes while you're face planting in the snow!

Get out, have another beer, maybe some water or two and enjoy the conversation. Show Henna all the pictures in my camera phone. Convince the 3-year-old that it's probably not a good idea to take Miss Beth's car key fob out of it's little holder. Still wet. Watch folks go wakeboarding. Looks too much like work to me after racing but the guys just don't know when to stop. Ah! Time to dock...still wet. Head over to Mozart's for a coffee because I really need to clean the bathroom (see Adventures in Sewage on MySpace). Get back to car...still wet. Drive home...still wet. Cannot wait to get out of these wet clothes.

Home again, home again...jiggity jog! Anyone love me since I last checked? Nope. Ah's all good. I haven't blogged in a while...