I can’t sleep, so I’m going to do another post.
I went up to Tabor the other day to watch Tony and my brother, Galen, race. They both did the cat 4 race.
Some of the pictures are a bit blurry. I’m still learning how to use my camera.
Here they are at the start.
Tony at the front.
Galen in the pack in the UO kit.
Tony, if you lean out on the handlebars any further, you’re going to tip the bike over.
Pain. Galen’s first cat 4 race. And his 5th race ever. He held on for 3 laps.
Tony trying to take out more spectators on the sidewalk (he’s right behind the bump sign). This was before he careened into a pregnant woman and her two daughters. Don’t worry, the paramedics got there in time to stop the 8-year old’s internal bleeding. Post race comment from Tony, “I treat pedestrians as targets. Small children are worth 1,000 points. The elderly are worth 1,500. Double points if you break their hip.”
And last but not least. Here’s a photo or two of Thomas with Styrofoam taped around his front legs and tail. He was no pleased with this. Later in the day, he got back at me by biting me in the groin while I was throwing small apples in the backyard at him and Galen.
Thomas and Mom.
I’m leaving tomorrow morning at 4:30 AM. Everything is packed and ready. My lungs are clearing up nicely, and I feel like I can finally start training hard again. The next two months will be the hardest racing and training I have done, and I can’t wait. After being up in Portland for the past week, spending time at home, my taste buds have grown to appreciate foods other than eggs, pasta, and oatmeal–my three key food groups over the past couple years of being a starving cyclist/college student. The fridge and pantry are always packed to the brim here, with such treats as deli meat, bagels, cereal, and cheese. It’s back to the norm for the next two months in Belgium. The Israelis that Tony and I are racing with live on the eggs, pasta, oatmeal diet too. But for my last dinner, my parents, brother, and I went out for one last family meal at Ixtapa, the local Mexican restaurant that we’ve been to about 289 times. I’m going to miss Mexican food. I’ve noticed that every time I travel, I end up craving Mexican food after two or three weeks of being deprived of it’s magical zest. But enough of food talk for now (if you can’t tell, I’m hungry right now). It’s time to sleep.
I’m off to Europe!!!!
As a famous Belgian once said: “Hasta la vista, baby.”