Ouch. Terrific course, long laps, and a death march uphill finish. A bit of barfing, plenty of maxed heart rates, lots-o ripped lungs, and the odd heinous muscle spasm. Glad to see an extended off-camber section, a taste of Europe, and a great variety of turns to test technique. My nemesis, Steve Proulx, crashed in front of me going through a ditch, which led to me stomping on his Zipp front wheel....eeee. Steve's tire rolled, yet he still managed to get back up to me, pass me, and ride away. Respek. I'll have to get faster, maybe pedalling harder will work? Yep, its probably just that. Or more beet juice.
|Aarg, I be Captain Pegleg, where be my treasure?|
|This is called child's pose, aka, the fetal position. Assume this and you know you've left it all on the course. Own it.|