Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Tuesday Night Cross

Today I ventured over to St. Louis Park for some weekday cross racing. I got third. This is where the excuses begin... My Sham force shifter has been on its way out for a few weeks now. When I downshift, half the time it doesn't stay--it springs back into the gear I was in. So when I went down in a corner, it totally crapped itself to hell. After I got back up, spun the chain back on, I was stuck in 42x11 for the next two laps. When I attempted to downshift it made a lot of crunching noise like when those circus freaks chew on light bulbs--yea, it was like that--and as soon as I'd let go of the shifter paddle, the chain would drop back to the little cog. Luckily I have cronies stationed around the course waiting to lend me their bikes. So I spotted my buddy, Nate and told him I needed to use his bike. Immediately he started sprinting to his car. No shit--I looked back and he was sprinting. On the next lap, he was waiting with his chilli con crosso, and we did the ol switcharoo. Pretty damn smooth, too. His saddle was about two inches too low, so I stood most the way. The Challenge tires, though, were sweetness in the grass. I didn't wipe out with his bike. Nearly toppled over the barriers, but no wiping of the out. At any rate, I am happy with third given that I did two laps--hilly laps--in 42x11, and did the rest on an unfamiliar bike with a low saddle. Plus, I have a bunch of excuses to tell people. Getting third without having any excuses would just plain suck.

In related news: A study by some elementary school kids somewhere found that there is really only two reasons most of us have blogs: 1) to brag about how we won a race; and 2) to list all the reasons beyond our control why we didn't win a race. The later of which being more prevalent.

Seriously, though. It's time to drink more beer. Seven dollar and seventy-nine cent a pint beer. Imported from the land of wooden shoes beer. Tastes like it was brewed in a gym shoe beer. The titanium--no, carbon fibre--of beer. Yes, that kind of beer.

Or whatever you got. Cheers to getting third and having the excuses to back it up.

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