Bad Blog Juju*

Owwww.

Okay that hurt.

Not the time trial. I never even got the chance to experience that kind of suffering.

Its as if my blog rants againt the time trial (all tongue in cheek of course) manifested (yes bunny, I said manifested) today's outcome.

This afternoon, before the time trial, I parked in the lovely little town of Davenport. Davenport is about 1.1 miles from the time trial start.



I only needed about .3 of those miles.

I'd love to blame it all on Simone. But she's so sweet...I can't go there. And its really not her fault that I am the world's most graceful klutz.

So I park in Davenport and get my bike all prepped with aeroflair and I pump up my tires to max rolling right pressure. It's a gorgeous evening. Calm, bright, tweetybirdy...just lovely. I spy Simone across the street. I haven't seen her in ages and I never get to ride with her.

I hop across the street to ride with her.

We ride and talk about how we never get to ride together. She suggests we take a little frontage road called "Cement Plant Road" because it is SAFER.

SAFER.

Somebody
Alert
Fuckin
Emergency
Response

So we cruise down Cement Plant Road (which is, appropriately, all cement) and we're just a chittin and a chattin like girlies do. We come up on some of the gnarliest railroad track thingies I have ever seen. So I stop talking and concentrate on hitting the tracks all lightwheeled and perpendicular.

We roll over them with no problems so we resume our chittychattin. A few feet later another set of tracks appear. But this time I am less careful and in mid chit (or chat), my superpumped tires rebel against the slick track, and I hit the deck hard.

WHAM

Wicked
Hurt
Allover
Me

It takes me a while of squirming and gulping in the middle of the road to do a body check and realize nothing is catastrophically wrong. Thank goodness I have a strong (yet skewed) funny bone and extra padding on my hips.

Simone helps me and my bike off the road. I take a few more deep breathers and decide I can ride on the next .8 miles to the start. After a dozen pedal strokes of pain, I realize that there is no way in anyone's hell that I can ride tonight's time trial.

And I smile*.



~~~~ I took my hall pass and traded it in for a press pass. I'll post some fun photos of the TT when I am a little less...umm...drunk.


*written while sitting on a bag of frozen corn
**easier to do now after a few pain pills and half a bottle of Corralitos Pinot Noir.