afternoon nap...

I've never been a napper. I find that naps throw me off and disrupt my sleep-wake cycle. If I am really tired, I usually just tough it out until bed time and then sleep a little better than normally. For this reason, I deal well with jet lag - just tough it out, pretend you've always been in this time zone and voila, you're good to go. But I'll get back to the nap issue in a minute...

The Sport/Expert split with marshall station.

Anyway, I love riding at Fair Hill, some of the finest singletrack in the region. But I ride it so often, I really can't see paying 35 bucks to ride that which I already ride. So when Faticus and the Keg Breaker mentioned this year's evil plan to marshall the Sport/Expert trail split at this year's race, I was in.

The Team.

I guess it wasn't so evil... Honestly the plan was to provide a watering hole for the racers who were racing in 95 degree heat. We had to stay hydrated of course, so [not] beer was a logical choice. And you need some grilled sausage to wash down the beverages. And of course, every watering hole needs a life guard. "Safety first!" was our motto. But boy, that lifeguarding really wore me out.

Hydration.

The watering hole in use.

So all that being said, it's also a rare occasion that I am drinking [not] beer at 10 in the morning. Usually I wait until at least 11:30 to crack open a cold one. And morning drinking seems to be the one thing that cracks my no-nap style. Or maybe it wasn't beer at all, lifeguarding is tough work. Either way, at 4 pm, I was snoozing soundly on the couch.

"Safety first!" Life guarding is tough work.

All pictures courtesy of Faticus and Buddy.

re-todd ride...

Tuesday night in the Newark Metropolitan area typically finds a small group of riders collecting at a church on Polly Drummond Rd. Not by chance, this church butts up against some of the most manicured singletrack in the region. The aim of these riders each week is to carve this non-technical singletrack as fast as possible until, one-by-one, each pair of legs is shot. This ride, dear reader, has been refered to as the "Tuesday Night Titans" in the past. I like to think of it as the Tuesday night Re-Todd ride, as Ex-Presidente Todd is the fearless leader.

Nonetheless, tonight, I found myself lining up with others to chase Ex-Pres around the steamrolled singletrack. This was against my better judgement as I'm fighting some strange sore throat thing (a thing the Dr. said was not strep, not mono, not tonsilitis but likely allergies. So then she gives me a new allergy drug and says try this. And then she prescribes a light round of antibiotics. "I thought you said I wasn't sick Doc?" She says, "it's just in case your inflamed throat is infected." Here's to strengthing the antibiotic-resistant bacteria!). In hopes they'd leave without me, I set about tighting my chain which, in fairness, has been popping off way too often.

Well, they waited. And my chain tension was fine. And it was time to roll. I admit, my legs were feeling ok, though my head wasn't in the ride. Each time I swallow, you see, pain shoots through my throat. Not pleasant, and not good for concentration. And 50 minutes into the ride, this takes its toll as my front wheel finds a nice rut to play in, and goes on its merry way off the outside of a turn. Thigh, meet the cold, hard ground. Shin, meet the bike frame.


My ego is bruised more than anything, and I took it as a sign to go home. When in doubt, leave it out. Now it's time for a little recovery. Don't worry, the Doc prescribed this too: