End of the Season

First of all, to assure everyone that I am a competent pet owner, here's a picture of Snips happily sleeping (his No. 1 activity) and free of eye boogers. I guess it could also look like he died of negligence and I posed him for a picture, a lá Wisconsin Death Trip, but that's just not true.



I haven't been blogging a lot about racing lately because it hasn't been going great and I've been less enthused each time... my season ended last weekend at Jinglecross on day 1 (of 2 that I pre-registered for). Had I known that there would be such awesome conditions on Day 2 I would have kept myself registered, but oh well. I had a great time spectating.

What happened on Saturday was that I had a feeling of dread the entire morning. Maybe that's not quite the right word for it, but it wasn't a jittery feeling, it was a feeling like I was being forced to march the trail of tears (not to demean that). I really didn't want to do it, and it wasn't because of nerves. I got sulky and quiet and generally turd-like. After 'racing' and getting 6th when I could have gotten 3rd (women I have beaten before came in 3rd and 4th) I decided that I would beg for my money back for Day 2 and just spectate instead of throwing myself another pity parade.

When I'm not into it, I race terribly. Should I just cut those races or fight my way through it? Next year will probably force a closer look at that.

On a less angst-y topic, Cale and I are approaching a big milestone in our Relationship. That's right. First race together. We just realized that the Stupor Bowl is coming up, and that last year's race was the first we did as a team. I don't remember when our first date was, but since we're so about the bike, it makes sense to hang the first date and celebrate the first race.