Playing catch up

School's been done for a few weeks now, but I've been busy. Playing catch up on fitness after being dropped at Kelly Cup, unpacking after the move, applying for jobs, and working more at the new part-time job.

Also, and more importantly, please let this post serve as a reminder that I will be riding for an NCVC or MABRA-composite team at the Tour of the Bahamas next January. You want to be on that team too.

Listening to Drunk Girls on the new LCD album. Drunk girls know that love is an astronaut; it comes back but it's never the same.

Poolesville RR: just like grad school

"Survival mode." It sounded like Nick had to burn a match just to say it.

"Yeh," I barked. "Just like grad school," gasping, tongue out, searching for oxygen. "All you can do is survive."

We both did a little more than survive Poolesville; Nick took 24th and I took 10th of 74 registered riders. It was a tough course, but the final kms proved something that I already knew too well--I've got the legs to earn results, but I still lack the nerves. The field shattered slowly in the last 3-4k. "Disintegrated" may even be a better word. I had to move up about 20 wheels in those final stretches to earn my first top ten in an NCVC kit. Sam H. of Carytown Bike Co/VCU took a hard-fought and smart win. The warmest of congratulations to him. I hope to put that '3' sticker on my USAC license before he applies his '2' decal.

Had I been in better position before the gaps started forming, I would have certainly finished higher, and not in no man's land between two groups of five. These are the lessons. I look forward to the ToWC TT for that very reason. It's a chance to show off my legs (and guts) without my frail nerves to get in the way.

And just as I did Poolesville, it looks like I've survived grad school. I was among five thousand over-educated (and likely still unemployed or under-employed) kids to sit on the Mall yesterday while Dave Brubeck and Michelle Obama told us how to change the world. And dammit if they didn't convince me to apply for about six do-gooder jobs this morning. Aside, hire me.

Packing up my apartment, enjoying a dirty mojito recovery shake, and listening to Cudi and Vampire Weekend.

and now for something completely different

My brain has been wholly occupied by school for the last 3 weeks. No longer. I submitted my last final an hour ago, and now I'm ready to focus on a whole host of other things: moving, getting a "real" job (hire me), and figuring out how to get results in these damn bike races. I don't want to be a four any longer than I have to be. Too sketchy.

I've had my head buried in my laptop for the last three weeks, so I don't really know what's going on in pro bike racing or anything else in the world. Thus, no poignant social commentary. Check back next week.

For now, I'm listening to Congratulations by MGMT. The new album is cool--kinda like heady beach music. More importantly, I'm graduating in two weeks.

disappointment

VT Crit championship yesterday. Nick gave me a perfect leadout. As I pulled off of his wheel to make my move, my cleat came out of my left pedal. I pedaled with one foot for four strokes before clipping back in to cross the line in 7th. Nick won.

Nick is a horse driving a Ferrari that's running on rocket fuel.

Bridge fail

Day 1 of WVU race weekend. Nick won the Cs, Dan won the Bs, and Mona took a podium spot in the women's Cs. Big day for g-dub. I played the role of helpful teammate for three laps after Nick got into a 4-man break, countering App State moves while the break put time into the field. As the gap grew to 20-25 seconds, I decided to try a Joe D. and bridge up to the break. Three grueling laps of slow progress, and as the gap hit about five seconds, my legs no longer heeded my request to shut up.

The launch (pre-scrubbing)

Listening to Ambling Alp by Yeasayer. Stuck in my head for over a month, and I just figured out the artist/song title.

Hardmen: wood rope & nails

I was exchanging stories with a classmate last night about friends who've beaten up or otherwise foiled their attempted muggers. He told me a story of someone, who we'll call Sparticus, who was attacked hours after moving to Austin, Tehas. He was walking home from a convenience store when some crazy dude jumped him with a 2x4. Sparticus, unfazed and seething from having his glasses broken, dropped his groceries and proceeded to beat his assailant "to a bloody pulp." After retrieving his convenient booty and walking a few short paces, he decided his rage was unsatiated. He dropped the groceries again, and continued to teach his new neighbor a lesson in fisticuffs, only stopping when he took his mugger's wallet. John went on to tell me that Sparticus, "a semi-pro BMX racer," was made of "wood, rope, and nails." Now that's a hardman, and that's something I aspire to be.

Going to WV this weekend for some racin. Mullet is in full effect.


Ray, take me home.

Hey, Battley Harley

Why don't you have this on the backs of your bibs? I don't understand.


77 miles with some of the GW boys this morning. Lying completely still and listening to Stuntin like Mufasa, some sort of mashed potato something or other by El Ten Eleven and Li'l Wayne. El Ten Eleven is playing Tuesday night in Arlington(wtf? come to h st).