178: it's my birthday, and Uncle Jan gave me a spanking.

Saturday night, Tom (papa smurf), Rotten Rob, E-town, Megs, Monkey, Jan, and I hit the ole Home Grown for an outstanding display of gluttony. We revisit our days races, talk about our bright spots, laugh at our mistakes. Our waiter has a tough time keeping up with our drink orders, as the food keeps flowing too. It's a pretty good night. E-town rode a tough race today that would have made Biddle (the ty domi of cross) proud. Jebbager came to the game to play too. Rotten got tackled by Soupie who was trying to grope him. And monkey was a little miffed that she had a 3 lap race (!?) Jan was totally the man today, taking the victory! I was just happy to have a ginormous plate of tasty ravioli in front of me. For a moment I am quiet as I zone out a bit:

Breast Cancer Awareness Cross in Hagerstown. With Granogue looming in two weeks, and with me not racing next weekend, my goal for today was to be as aggressive as possible, I figured the results would work themselves out. At the gun, I attacked taking my first hole shot of the year. The course was 100% better than last year, and a good one for me with lots of tight twisty corners. Out on my own, I was able to pick my own lines, and attack out of each corner. I had found my place in the pain cave, and I admit I was digging it.



Finishing the third lap, I had opened a 20 second gap on the field and continued my aggressive strategy. "don't let up" I kept saying to myself. I was sprinting out of each corner. On the top side of the course, I felt my rear tire wobble, then I felt the rear wheel kind jump, at first I thought I had broke a spoke, then I realized I had rolled my tire for the second week in a row.



You mean to tell me a 175lb man needs more than 30lbs of pressure in a clincher ? Apparently.



Looking down at my wheel I could see my tube was banging against the frame. Then starting the 3rd lap, my tire exploded. With almost half a lap to the pit, I rode my best on the flat rear. I tried to keep my composure.



It didn't take too long for Jan, running a strong second to catch me, he looked at my tire and said, "No !! Marc!" and I told him to get going. Struggle as I might, probably 8-9 more guys got around me before I got back the pit and was able to get my pit bike.



Surprisingly, I stayed pretty cool. Nothing had changed. Goal one: ride aggressively. So as soon I as I got on the pit bike, I started attacking again. I got by a couple of guys, wasn't really sure where I was in the field, just kept saying to myself, "don't give up". 3 to go I looked up and saw a group of 4, with Ron for PVC at the front. Wow, I think that's my group, I say to myself. Fellow DCCoDer Mike CZ was rolling, and I sat on his wheel as he carved his way through the twisty tight section. The course opened up with a small rise culminating in the barriers. I stood and attacked getting through the group. Ron would jump on my wheel and hang around until the end. I tired to not focus on him but on staying aggressive and making Jan sweat.


Meanwhile, Jan continued to ride strongly at the front of the race, racing smart, conserving energy. As he told me, he looked back, and "this guy in black was charging towards him." Joe the announcer and folks all around the course seemed to be cheering for me to claw my way back to Jan. I stayed aggressive, I got close. Being that this was my birthday race, (Sunday was actually my birthday) in a fairytale world, I would have caught Jan and won the race. However, Jan is German, and they don't believe in fairy tales. I fought hard but never got closer than 12 seconds.






As Jan made the switchback towards the finish I pointed up at him, giving my friend a salute, I was happy for Jan, he rode a great race, and I was stoked he got the W. Me, I rolled up the finishing straight zipped up the skin suit, pretty pleased with my ride too. As I zipped up, the official told me, "that was so pro..."


On the way home, monkey told me that was probably the best cross race she ever saw me ride. I have to agree. It was a pretty good day.

Suddenly I snap back into conversation as I hear Rotten's bellowing laugh, and the clink of glasses as I realized they were in the midst of a toast. "CHEERS!!!" "TO CROSS, TO THE DCCoD, to 30lbs of tire pressure!!!"

Dessert arrives, and I dig into my apple tart with fine woodside ice cream. We are stoked to get the reports from Wes and Auer up in Long Island. Sounds like that was a good time. I turn to the left, and kiss my wife. Today, has been a pretty great day, I have a pretty awesome life.
God Speed.

respect.

faticus

in case you didn't know. Kevin Dillard is a pretty great guy.