The "big show" doesn't get set up by itself.
I manage to screw up another race. I have no delusions. I'm a has-been-that-never-was.
But we go to the mountains just days before this criterium.
We ride the equivalent of a 3 day stage race with the Major Taylor Club, Metro Detroit, and Metro Atlanta.
Our legs are sore from climbing the "Wall", "Dragon's Tail", Foot Hills Parkway, Butterfly, and Sweetie Pie.
Now we call on those legs to ride a rip-roaring, criterium in downtown Walterboro, SC.
A bomb threat causes a rescheduling of the races requiring renumbering on the starting line.
Instead of racing at 4 pm with masters and Cat 2 & 3 it's now about 6 and I'm racing Cat 4 and 5.
Charleston Bicycle Company and Low-Country VW are well represented.
Hurry up and wait.
We're off.
After the first lap it gets fast.
I'm second behind a faster rider but I can't take advantage of it.
I'm on the front for a few moments but the legs are saying no.
My beard has cut my power output about 10 watts. I'm forced to the rear and out of the wind.
I call to the engine room but the lights are out and there's not a sound.
I should have trimmed my beard before the race.
The LCVW has a party at the Crit.
John Houston makes the bold move, gets off the front, and wins our race.
Chris gets a thirst quenched.
And now we're spectators to some fast cycling.
So many people go through the pain tunnel for beer and pizza.
My camera was so upset with my showing that it refused to take another picture.
The pain in my right lower back, hip, and right leg forced me to dig through old meds.
I found some Bextra that was taken off the market years ago. Yes, it hurt that bad.
I took 40 mg. The pains subsided a quite bit. Still my legs would not obey.
I don't advocate an unlevel playing field. I don't advocate using drugs for an advantage.
A pick-up truck running a traffic light decades ago made an unlevel playing field.
Longevity certainly has it's place. I'm lucky to be able to ride or just be at all.
The very next day I buy another Kodak. This is my 4th Kodak. I've had 3 Olympus cameras and 1 Nikon.
I've dropped cameras and I've crashed with them.
I've never crashed taking a picture and I will throw the camera away before crashing.
I like the knobs (on/off switches, etc.) on the Kodaks and they're great for the money.
I wonder who will be the first subject for my new camera.
I quickly spy a bike coming around the WestVaco Park. The mystery is solved.
Another subject comes along.
I analyze and then I may over- analyze.
I realize my ancestors were great potato farmers and not athletes.
My father had 2 heart attacks before he was my age.
My two uncles died of heart-attacks and one uncle died at 32 years of age.
My grandfather set the stage by going by heart failure as well.
I guess I've had about a dozen heart-attacks myself. All imagined.
I don't do enough crits. It's a strange animal to me.
Racing around city blocks is good for spectators.
I don't go to gyms for leg presses and I can't do some yoga.
It's these cysts- one in the knee and one below the knee.
So I don't do my homework.
I'm a thousand years old- some days.
Some days I'm a 58 year old Vietnam Vet that's been hit by three cars.
Every day my upper and lower back is in pain with the same running down my right leg.
On every ride I could have pain running from my neck through my arm.
But I'm into pain. I've been married twice.
So I'm not a great athlete. I don't do my homework. My body and head are a mess.
I tend to fry my legs and my head before an important event.
I race with a stronger, faster, and often a younger crowd.
Still I get puzzled at why I don't ride better and even more puzzled at what my head makes my body do.
Greg Masterson of Metro Atlanta Cycling Club, who actually wins races such as the Georgia Cup, says,
"It's a rough life we choose. Better to be off the front for a minute than not at all."
So now at the end of my life I race Cat. IV.
Often as a "Master" I race with 35 and above Masters. They beat me up, but good.
But there were days that I indeed did get the best of Cat. I, II, and IIIs and a member of the National Team.
It is what it is and it was what it was.
You can rewrite history but you can't change it.