Call it a comeback when I drop 15 non-essential pounds and gain 20 essential pounds o’ muslce-meat in my creamy, creamy thighs. The last time I was legitimately on the ole podium steps (read: when I wasn’t third out of four racers) was probably after I had just finished a 40 race roadie season and was training under a legitimate coach. I was fast and I took all of the names. Last year and earlier this year were different stories altogether. Being kind of an Athena and not really riding my bike like I should if I’m interested in winning has kept me off the tops steps for some time…
Where I came in 2nd at the Lion of Fairfax of Los Altos! BOOYAKASHA MOTHAFUCKAS! I’ll admit I didn’t really plan on racing this race but thanks to a very persuasive Pro-BonerMILF (she called me at 9:30 in the morning before our race and picked my ass up AT MY HOUSE!), thus I made it to the starting line, with a front-of-the grid placement even! At the whistle, I had my usual awesomely epic start, but this time, something was different, my legs never filled up with that dreaded lactic acid, my brain didn’t immediately mutiny against my body with bad nasty self-talk, the kind losers hear! I was feeling FUCKING GREAT!
To be fair, the LoF:Los Altos course was MY KIND OF COURSE!
With technical off-camber turns, sticky muddy singletrack, and sections where you could really just sit back and fly downhill. Not a lot of bad climbs, just two grinders really that you could sit and spin up or you could put in a punchy attack and make your fellow racers beg for mercy. My favorite was the small digger that was either a run-up or a ride-up, depending on if you did it right. The MILF and I got some pre-race counseling from someyoungguy named Ode. He told us the magical secret to turning the run-up into a ride-up. I went and practiced it a couple times before my race started and BADDABING! I did it right! And now I was cooking with gas because riding a run-up gives one so much of an edge–it’s worth it to test it out and see if you can do it.
I skipped Murphy Mack’s first race in San Jose because the course included a stupid huge hill, not my forte at all. In fact, I’d call it my hurt-e (come on, say it like you would forte).
And historically Murphy’s courses make me die inside and I usually hate how much they hurt me–so I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to race the NorCal.CX series this year–to the shock of many. But I will give credit where it’s due and say this race was not only well laid out with dynamic terrain changes but the whole things was super well marked and was, dare I? Yes, I dare: FUN! So I’ll eat my asshole pie and say, “thanks Murph-dawg, you really knocked this one outta the park.”
You know who else gets to eat her asshole pie? The pink and blue clad gem who exclaimed to me as I was sitting down after my race, trying to become a human again, “You must’ve done good because I lapped some B’s and I didn’t even see you!” Yes. Yes, I did do good. Pretty damn good, if I may. But don’t call it a comeback. Save that for when I taste sweet victory and get to say, “Wow, you did really well for having such a slow start off the line!” Or will I be the classiest, a humble and gracious winner?
Nasty on the course. Classy on the podium.
PS, sorry for all the yelling.