Club Race 03.28.09

Mar 28

What a nasty morning for racing. Shall we say a little Belgium in Manhattan. It was around 45 degrees and drizzling. I forgot to charge my SRM so no power file today. I wasnt feeling so great this morning. The race was a lot of up and down. Had I recorded the race I’m sure the variable index would have been rather high for a race in Central Park. There seemed to be an interest in a breakaway but it just never happened. I did my best to position myself well in the pack and moved around as I saw the need. By lap 3 my stomach was starting to feel bad. On the 3rd trip up Harlem Hill I throw up in my mouth. It totally took me by surprise. I still kept on and planned on finishing the race. I really wanted to try and stick around for the finish. On the 5th trip up Harlem Hill I was hurting and was trying hard to hold on to the group. I made a stupid mistake of being poorly positioned in the field before the hill. Knowing that I was not feeling well I should have made sure to have been in the front of the group so that I could take the hill at a slower pace. Oh well, joke’s on me. After getting dropped my stomach decided to rebel. I coughed and my stomach saw an opportunity to exorcise a few demons. I rode back to the start/finish to get my stuff to go home. Stopping was a bad idea but when I got to my bag I just wanted to rest a minute. Once we cooled down it got really cold. I didnt want to put on my jacket because I was covered in dirt, grit and horse shit. I didnt want to get the inside of my jacket filthy. Everybody looked horrible. I spent 30 mins in the shower. During the day when blowing my nose, itching my ears and rubbing my eyes I’d find more dirt and horseshit. My eyes were bloodshot all day because of all of the grime that was under my eyelids and irritating them. I spent the rest of my day relaxing, eating and cringing from my intermittent stomach cramps.



  1. RSun, diggin’ your blog and the fitness experiment. curious to see how it translates to the bike. i’m jealous of that training camp. pouncy


  2. holy horse crap; that sounds bad

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