My friends warned me. My competitors scared me. The scale exposed me. My subconscious lied to me.

I don’t know why I’ve ever listened to that voice in my head. It’s the same voice in college that said “Of course you can handle your liquor!” It was also the voice that said “You should wear your jean jacket on your date tonight…lady-killer.” Again, that voice manipulated me to the start line of the Superior Road Race.

I have participated in a few races in my time with some fairly resilient competition, but nothing prepared me for the relentless “Great Wall of Superior”. As I watched the truly talented riders glide away that little voice in my head ironically turned on me….

Before the race I was “an explosive force of cycling strength prepared to shatter my competition into tiny pieces of shame and humiliation”. As I ascended the “Great Wall of Superior” the only explosive force I was feeling was 3 water bottles in my bladder and my lungs trying to escape through my throat.

Now that little voice was not so little. It’s screaming; berating me like the drill instructor from Full Metal Jacket: “You are such a F&$k^#G IDIOT! What made you think you could do this you fat bastard! Do you see those guys riding effortlessly away from you! No you don’t, because you’re breathing so hard you’re cross-eyed and quite possibly have crapped in your bibs.”

Pathetic? Maybe, but I have a whole new perspective of our local PRO’s!

If you have attempted this race then you have my utmost admiration.

If you haven’t competed in this race then I don’t respect you. You are not a “road racer” so please sell your DeRosa for some neon rollerblades with corresponding wrist guards or take up fixie bike polo poseur.

Rusty Chain