I just can't help myself, if there is a race I go to it. It was positively hot out there, so i wore Linnea's amazing blue hibiscus short spandex. The only problem with these is that there is no elastic in the waist, yet, so I was a little worried that they would fall down and I would moon everyone behind me. Luckily, they stayed up. I also found out that the "racing red" lenses in my glasses are too dark for Weston's lights.
After futilely yelling out to the crowd "does anyone have a scraper!?!?" I decided to just ski my travel wax off my skis. By the time we started racing, I think most of the wax was gone. It was enough that I could keep up with the guys on the downhills, but that may have been because they were trying to V2 on an uncertain surface in the dark into a headwind, so a tuck was just faster. I didn't want to go much beyond threshold, so I started easy, trying to avoid the general mayhem that comes with Tuesday night races. Once it looked like my poles were no longer in danger of being snapped by over-zealous males, I started moving up, which I had plenty of time to do since it was a "long" race, at almost 7km. The low point of the race was when I couldn't remember how many laps I'd done, and I stopped at the entrance of the finish chute trying to figure it out. Oops.
Thats it for racing until Switzerland. I can't wait!
2 comments:
Um, I think I should take offense at the title of your story....nah, I'm too old for that...
See, you don't count as a master "blaster" because you don't have the right attitude for that. You have to start taking these Tuesday night races much, much, much more seriously... :)
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