At Least I Didn't Get Lapped

A few weeks ago, I decided it would be a good idea to race my mountain bike in our weekly mountain bike race right alongside people who actually like to race. I don't have a lot in common with folks who like to race, and I'm totally out of racing shape, but as the saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. As far as racing is concerned, there are parts I like and parts I don't like. I don't like the part when you are pedaling. I really like the part when you stop pedaling. For the folks who like to race, it's the other way around.

I am the race director, so before the start of the adult race, as usual, I was running around with a megaphone and handing out free creemee coupons to the kids who raced on the Goat Loop. All the kids who race the Goat Loop get a free creemee, just for getting to the finish. Even if their Mommy or Daddy has to carry them across the finish line while they ball their eyes out because they fell and hurt their pee-pee or whatever, they still qualify for a free creemee. The adults only get bragging rights and the chance to endure great suffering. That is good enough for them, apparently. If they want a creemee, they have to pay for one, just as I do.

At the start, as usual, I was making the weekly announcements and getting people into line. When I said "Racers ready, set, go!" I was one of the folks who had to go, so I went, and within thirty seconds, my heart was pounding like a timpani during the final measures of a grand concerto. My strategy at that point was to ride with the fast guys for as long as I could, then settle into some kind of tempo and maintain a decent position and finish with a bit of respectability. During the final lap, that turned into simply trying to not get lapped.

Two minutes shy of an hour after the starting gun, I finished. It was a great moment that almost made the racing part worth it, but not quite. Perhaps because there weren't a lot of spectactors cheering me on as I crossed the finish line. They had all gone home. Or perhaps because there was no free creemee awaiting me. Regardless, my lovely fiancee was right there, clapping and smiling, and she said I did great.

That was nice to hear, but I can' t shake the feeling that she was just saying that to make me feel better, considering that I looked like I had just crawled my way home after being stranded for days in a swamp. The racers who had finisihed ahead of me all looked like they had just finished warming up. Only a few short years ago, I would've given those guys a run for their money, but today it was all I could do to not get lapped. But I didn't get lapped.

Speaking of laps, it was time for a creemee.