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).

I just need a hug

Today was the first time I was in an actual break. We had nearly thirty seconds on the field, with my teammate and two slightly weaker competitors, before we were reeled back in. I'm not going to say whose fault it was. I'm not.

I got prime points, I scored, and I lost no skin. Those are all moral victories. Tomorrow, we'll work on real victories.

Listening to K'NAAN, a Somali rapper, tell me about Western Union. Track is called 15 Minutes Away.

Be my roommate

My roommate is skipping out on the April-June part of our lease, so I have to find a subletter. I'd make him do it, but I trust his judgment... less than I trust mine.

It's a 2br English basement on the Hill. It's awesome, and you get to be my roommate. If you're interested or know anyone who might be, let me know. My email is richard (at) gwu.edu.

Listen to this, and tell me that YACHT isn't ready to start a world-domination cult. The track is called We Have All We've Ever Wanted.

rocknrollas puke when they party

I love time trials. Nothing switches on the hunting instinct in me like catching sight of my minute man (or my two- or three- or four-minute man).

Good times. Most of my race report will find its way onto the team blog, but suffice it to say that I puked all over myself during the Navy TT today on my way to a fourth place finish (with the fastest time of anyone in the buff and blue, any category). Also puked most of the half hour after I finished. Yes, I am a rocknrolla.

Had Cutdown by Matt & Kim in my head during the TT.