So's Your Face

So my birthday was this weekend, on Sunday. Last year I'd planned on a 250 km bike ride, but instead Jay and I continued our long-standing, very amicable rivalry at Neshaminy.

This had some immediate consequences, not the least of which was that the evening preceding my birthday was tame. I resigned myself to a night of stretching, bike maintenance, packing, and carbo-loading.

Then I got a call from Bearded Megan, bless her heart. She would not let me sit at home, regardless (irregardless? unregardlingly?) of my race plans. We went to Charlie Brown's, the one and only bar in Highland Park's little "downtown" ... but only because Rite Aid was closed, so we couldn't buy 40s and drink on my stoop.

For a special birthday treat, the Bearded one bought me ice cream at the Baskin Robbins across from my house. Ice cream is always great - ALWAYS - but ice cream with a birthday candle is extra-special.


Why the E? Does it perhaps stand for something? Is the E for "Extra Special"? Does it represent some affinity for Ecstasy and other clubbing drugs ('cause I loooove clubbing)? No. It is the letter left over from the word CELEBRATE, which Megan modified for comedic purposes.

Things to note:
Yes, the candles are on a bagel.
No, Megan's not wearing her trademark beard.
Yes, we take recycling seriously.

In retrospect, this seems just a little bit Junior High. Like ooh, look what we can do with typos! At the time, though, it was pretty damn hilarious. I guess that's one of the byproducts of a good friendship - the ability to be entertained by the inane?
Celibate good times, come on!

A few hours later, I met up with Jay for the relatively short drive down to Neshaminy. Neither of us had prepared optimally, but I don't think it would've mattered much anyway. As I told Will during Saturday's ride, my legs felt "poopy".



But no matter. If nothing else, that took the pressure off of me. I would ride to whatever capacity I had during the day, with special attention paid to keeping the rubber side down.

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men, et cetera...

Minutes after chatting with one of the course designers, who warned us that the new insane descent would be chaos if it rained, we heard thunderclaps and saw rainclouds approaching. I tried not to whimper.

photo by Todd Strauss

Jay went kersplat on the first lap when someone in front of him bobbled a rather simple log obstacle. He pulled himself together quite admirably, given that this happened 15 minutes into a 100 minute race, and finished about a minute behind yours truly.

photo by Todd Strauss

Yours truly went kersplat about 45 minutes later. In the ensuing tumble, I caught the bottom bracket with my lip. This knocked me kinda silly for a while.

photo by Todd Strauss

Also it gave me a bloody mustache. Which would be a great name for a band. Bloody Mustache.

It was not a memorable race for either of us. We both bled a fair bit, and we are both rather bruised. However, when all is said and done, neither of us dropped out, neither of us flatted out, and yes, I beat Jay. So it was a good day.



Anyway, chicks dig scars.

The MTB is officially retired for the summer. It will be called upon when I want to resharpen the ol' handling skillz for 'cross season, or when I want to hoot and holler in the woods for a few hours. For now, though, it's all road... hopefully the results will lead to an upgrade to Cat 3. We can hope.

Also, I look forward to races in which my identification is pinned to my jersey rather than drawn on my calf. This wouldn't be a big deal if I raced in any other category, but being a single speeder kinda makes me look like a bit of a Nazi, now doesn't it?

At least they're not little lightning bolts,
which has happened at other races

I went out to dinner with my family, and it was just what the doctor ordered. A great deal of food was consumed, and unsurprisingly the lion's share of it had made its way to digestion via my plate. My parents were disproportionately concerned with the sliced-up face, which looks worse than it is, but I guess that's what parenting leads to.

So. 25. The big Quarter Century. There is supposed to be some special significance to this, yes? Perhaps not. If someone needs to elevate to profundity the orbital frequency of this chunk of rock on which we live, and uses it to catalyze a change in their life, that's fine, and I wish them nothing but luck. Lord knows I've used that arbitrary excuse for change, as well as others, in the past.

For right now, though, I neither want nor need a change. I am pleased with my lot, and my cup runneth over. My research is progressing nicely, my friends are some of the best a man could ever want, I love my sport, the new apartment is amazing... What more could anyone reasonably ask for?

I could use some damn upgrade points, I guess.