Cyclocrossed Off (My List)
I’m relieved to report that cyclocross racing is not my new “thing;” and I’m indebted to the bicycle gods for making this abundantly clear by seeing that I got a front tire puncture just as I was rolling up to the starting line for this morning’s 45-and-over “Masters” Category Four race at Big Finn Hill Park in Kirkland, thereby ensuring that I would complete but one lap of the course before retiring trailside to patch my tube and listen to the announcer’s overheated commentary on the race.
So, while I did succeed in fulfilling the novice’s goal of keeping the heat leader in my sights, it was only as he flashed past the finish line lap after lap.
I should have known better, really. Where did I get the idea that I’d enjoy bicycle racing that wasn’t based around urban checkpoints, alcohol consumption, and/or generalized thematic stupidity?
Plus, it was squid-hell and most of the guys there had their “game faces” on, meaning they couldn’t smile back at me when I said “good morning,” although the worst offender was a dude behind the sign-in table who, when I asked if he could take a second to lend me a hand pinning my race number to my jersey, replied “Oh, no. I’m responsible for organizing this whole event, I don’t have time for that,” unaware, apparently, that his self-important explanation took longer than it would have to help me.
Still, it was a lovely morning for a bike ride, and the miles I would put in made me comfortable having not just one pastry, but two, for breakfast.
And while I probably won’t make a habit of ‘cross racing, I’m glad that it’s out there and that so many people like to get up early in the morning, dress in plastic, and drive their bikes on their cars to a park and race each other in circles.
Me, I’ll stick to reading the Times and drinking coffee.
So, while I did succeed in fulfilling the novice’s goal of keeping the heat leader in my sights, it was only as he flashed past the finish line lap after lap.
I should have known better, really. Where did I get the idea that I’d enjoy bicycle racing that wasn’t based around urban checkpoints, alcohol consumption, and/or generalized thematic stupidity?
Plus, it was squid-hell and most of the guys there had their “game faces” on, meaning they couldn’t smile back at me when I said “good morning,” although the worst offender was a dude behind the sign-in table who, when I asked if he could take a second to lend me a hand pinning my race number to my jersey, replied “Oh, no. I’m responsible for organizing this whole event, I don’t have time for that,” unaware, apparently, that his self-important explanation took longer than it would have to help me.
Still, it was a lovely morning for a bike ride, and the miles I would put in made me comfortable having not just one pastry, but two, for breakfast.
And while I probably won’t make a habit of ‘cross racing, I’m glad that it’s out there and that so many people like to get up early in the morning, dress in plastic, and drive their bikes on their cars to a park and race each other in circles.
Me, I’ll stick to reading the Times and drinking coffee.
posted by Professor Dave at 12:37 PM
3 Comments:
squid fail! Next time try entering the Category du Jour. The Masters guys are pretty intense; Cat du Jour is more about showing up and having fun (and not wearing spandex).
Or forget racing, just drink beer and heckle.
I'm thinking maybe single-speed.
And more beer.
"And while I probably won’t make a habit of ‘cross racing, I’m glad that it’s out there and that so many people like to get up early in the morning, dress in plastic, and drive their bikes on their cars to a park and race each other in circles."
Pretty darn funny!
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