And I doubled up... Charm City Cross!

Or better said, I tried to, but was only partially successful.

Anyways. Let’s start from the very beginning (why do I always think of the “sound of music” when I say that?). As I had decided after the suffer-fest and the assorted pains and aches all over my body that resulted from the first CX race, nothing that was going to stop me from racing the following weekend… NOTHING… NOTHING… NOTHING except for, goddammit, work. Ugh. Two deadlines magically appeared on my calendar for Monday, which meant I dorked my entire weekend in front of the laptop while staring longingly at my bike. Sigh. Sometimes I hate being a grown-up.

It has begun… Tacchino Cyclocross!!

Every single muscle in my body hurts, I have bruises on my shoulder, forearm, legs and I think there is a bottom bracket imprinted on my lower back. Ouch. IT’S CYCLOCROSS SEASON, BABY!!!! And the first race was Tacchino CX at the beautiful Rosaryville State Park this last Sunday.

Dawg Days of Summer

And, the last race of the year turned out to be my first. Go figure. I spent the entire season riding, not ever “training” and always avoiding races… I did semi-decide to race a couple of times, but always something more “important” such as 100 degrees days, a trip to Shenandoah, or my total lack of desire to get up at an ungodly hour got in the way.

Grrrrrr…. Bunny Hop

I am grumpy, cranky, pissy and downright in a really bad mood. That race did not go well. It is actually very simple: I raced 5-6 laps, had an asthma attack, and ta-daaaaaa, I was out. What else is new.

The day did not start in its best foot either. You see, I have these neighbors that, despite being married, the wife is the prototype of the cranky grumpy old maid and he is a schmuck. And they do not like dogs; they are actually the only people in this block who do not have any sort of critters to look after (critters being any kind of pet or children). And I have the good luck of having them living right next to me. Yay. So, they judge me, they bug me, and since they do not have a life, they mess with mine. So, this morning, when I was putting my bike on the roof rack, the bitch comes running to tell me that "YOUR DOGS WERE BARKING LATE LAST NIGHT!! I HEARD THEM AT 7PM!!! AND XX (the schmuck) GOES TO BED EARLY AND THEY DON'T LET HIM SLEEP!"... 7 pm... REALLY?!? I mean, how bad is she in bed that the poor schmuck feels compelled to go to sleep at 7 pm on a Saturday?!?