9.08.2008
Kickapoo Redux
Sometimes I go places and think I will never be here again. Somehow I returned to one of those.
Two weeks after attempting to compete, shredding some bolts, and bike-chucking the Salsa, some sick twist of fate landed me in Kickapoo again. Round two against the Illinois trail and round two of the collegiate series equates to a fourth place finish. I should be throwing up with excitement, as the sport field was huge, but somehow I'm not. I want to win....expert. No racing for a few weeks. Lots of training and rest to ensue, hopefully more of the latter.
9.02.2008
Gruel Fest
Ahoy, been a few since the last entry as the holiday proved to be action packed as expected. Midwest collegiate racing kicked off this weekend with a cross country at Mizzou. After conning a fellow classmate into chauffeuring me there, I took home second in a huge sport field. Not to smoke my own ham, but I am wicked excited as this is a huge victory for me. The trail was soup and I spent most of my time passing on the rocky uphills. Hopefully this momentum will carry into the race next weekend at U of I.
Good chance the legs will be pistachio jello however after a two day gruel fest on the Ozark Trail. After getting to spend some time with the most amazing girly ever, Bunnjangles and I packed up the Power Ranger and headed to Steelville. Hiked the OT from dusk to dawn, slept a few hours in the heat, and set out on the Berryman single and rigid. BT is fucked. Those 4.5 hours of my life need never happen again. Rocks, Roots, Rest, Repeat. The last 9 miles of trail, I felt as though I were a passenger in my own body watching from behind my eyes, wondering how long my body would hold up. I remember very little of what happened. I do however recall downing an entire pizza post pedal. Good times.
Lastly. Reading a local pro rider's blog this evening, found out that he broke his C6 vertebrae. A year ago this time I donned the stormtrooper outfit myself. Forecasting a lot of reflection.
Good chance the legs will be pistachio jello however after a two day gruel fest on the Ozark Trail. After getting to spend some time with the most amazing girly ever, Bunnjangles and I packed up the Power Ranger and headed to Steelville. Hiked the OT from dusk to dawn, slept a few hours in the heat, and set out on the Berryman single and rigid. BT is fucked. Those 4.5 hours of my life need never happen again. Rocks, Roots, Rest, Repeat. The last 9 miles of trail, I felt as though I were a passenger in my own body watching from behind my eyes, wondering how long my body would hold up. I remember very little of what happened. I do however recall downing an entire pizza post pedal. Good times.
Lastly. Reading a local pro rider's blog this evening, found out that he broke his C6 vertebrae. A year ago this time I donned the stormtrooper outfit myself. Forecasting a lot of reflection.
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