Over the past two years and six weeks, I’ve finished five triathlons at Walter E. Long Park, following substantially the same course – swimming in Decker Lake, biking on the hilly roads around the lake, and running on the rocky, grassy, muddy trail inside the park. Three of the triathlons were Couples and two were Danskins. The first three at this venue offered a 12-mile bike course, while the two most recent cut the bike course to 11.2 miles. It’s interesting to compare my most recent race with the other four.
At long last, a week has passed and I’m free to look at my splits from Couples last week. Though it was hard not to peek, I’m glad I could keep my promise to myself to focus on fun and to stop obsessing over every tenth of a second. Overall, I’m happy with my race. The 11 people who took longer to finish probably had difficulties with their equipment. Enough time has passed that there’s no point in beating myself up for making mistakes. Of course, I shouldn’t beat myself up even in the heat of battle. I’ll practice taking a positive attitude to everything I do because there’s very little I can control on race day (or at any other time, for that matter). Things just happen, like my dead battery this morning, a frantic call to my son for a jump, and a hasty trip to an auto parts store for a new battery. Glad it wasn’t worse.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, so to speak, the story continues. Although I prefer a clockwise swim and this one was counter-clockwise, I thought I’d had a good swim, and I did because I was able to draft a lot. This was my best pace ever at Decker Lake – 4:06/100 M for 800 meters with a total of 32:46. For me, that’s smoking fast! Thank you, fast swimmers in later wave starts. You pulled me along. I’m also happy that I did freestyle the whole way and didn’t have to stop to catch my breath.
My T1 was right in the middle of these five races at 3:46. I need to practice my transitions a lot more than I do. I need to develop a sure-fire way to lay out my gear instead of proceeding in somewhat a haphazard fashion. I sense another checklist in the offing.
I thought I’d had a better bike than it turned out to be, so it’s good that I was focusing only on the fun of the race. I love those big downhills! Not even the stinging insect in my bike glasses bothered me. I just whipped them off and stuck them down the front of my jersey. My average speed was 11.5 mph for the 11.2 miles with a total of 58:30. Last year at Couples, I was quite a bit slower on the bike. I’m happy to have improved over last year, though my speed was faster in the first three Decker races.
If I can indulge in one gripe, I think my bike would have been a few seconds faster if a guy hadn’t cut me off at the hard right turn just before the first short, steep hill that we call Little Mr. Tard. I was going moderately fast and wide, gearing down, and preparing to muscle my way up that unforgiving hill. Instead, I had to brake like crazy and lost momentum. When I dropped to 3 mph, I got off the bike and walked it the rest of the way to the top. Oh, well. He was racing while I was out for the fun. I used the walk to take in water, electrolytes, and shot blocks. I also encouraged others who were walking their bikes up. That’s a tough hill. None of the others bothered me at all.
This T2 was my slowest ever for this venue at 4:48, so ditto on practicing a lot more. I might as well have phoned in for pizza and had lunch. Since getting into my running socks and shoes takes so long, I’ll practice running without socks and will look for a long-handled shoe horn in order to avoid plopping down on the ground to put on my shoes. I’ll also look for some better shoe laces.
I knew during the race that my run/walk was a struggle, so I wasn’t surprised to see that it was my second slowest on that course – 17:07 per mile for 3.1 miles with a total of 53:05. Not only was the weather hot and humid at 10:00 a.m., but also for the first time in my racing life, I experienced gastrointestinal distress and really needed a porta-pottie. I kept looking for a big bush to hide behind but there were too many runners and volunteers around for me to find enough privacy to pacify my nudity timidity. I know, I know. I should get over that hang-up. Maybe next year. Consider yourself warned.
Looking at all five races at Decker Lake, I’m happy with my most recent results. This was my second fastest finish. At 2:32:56, I was only 1:04 slower than I was at Danskin a year ago. I’m not sure how to factor in the slightly shorter race course this year, but I’m just not going to worry about it. I have the evidence I need to convince myself that, although I’m not getting any faster, I’m not slowing down much either. There’s something to be said for finding your happy race pace and just being consistent with it. Racing is fun and I want to keep it that way so I can do it as long as possible.
I’m now keeping my training and motivation logs in a different location because I write them every day in pencil in a notebook. There’s something satisfying about writing my accomplishments in cursive. It’s highly satisfying to have made a series of small decisions leading up to what amounts to a serious commitment to doing the necessary training for Worlds. Some time ago, I was freaking out about Worlds. Now, I’m much calmer and much more focused on what I need do. That's progress!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Becoming Consistent with the Training
Although the triathlon in Budapest is just a sprint distance, which I’ve done 18 times in the past three years, I’m increasing my training to ensure that I have an enjoyable race. Last night at team practice, we did “bricks.” I biked a total of 8 miles and ran about 1.25 miles. If the hills hadn’t been so hard, I’d have enjoyed practice a lot more. At the end of a long work day, it’s hard to get out there, especially in the heat.
This morning, 4:45 came far too early, but I decided to roll out of bed and go to swim practice. I think I completed about 1000 yards of drills alternating with swims. Afterwards, I did an easy run of about 1.5 miles. This evening, I actually got to the gym for a few lat pulls, leg presses, and core work. It was fun to get back to strength training.
Tomorrow, it might be hard to get in the training on my schedule because it’s a long work day for me. But I’m supposed to run only 1.5 miles and do a bit of stretching, balance, and core work. I will squeeze it in somehow.
Training log: Bike – 8 miles. Run/walk – 1.25 miles. (Also taught senior exercise class and did a little core work and light weights at the gym.)
Motivation log: I learned that making a commitment to training is a matter of deciding to take the little steps that make it hard not to train. It’s that simple.
This morning, 4:45 came far too early, but I decided to roll out of bed and go to swim practice. I think I completed about 1000 yards of drills alternating with swims. Afterwards, I did an easy run of about 1.5 miles. This evening, I actually got to the gym for a few lat pulls, leg presses, and core work. It was fun to get back to strength training.
Tomorrow, it might be hard to get in the training on my schedule because it’s a long work day for me. But I’m supposed to run only 1.5 miles and do a bit of stretching, balance, and core work. I will squeeze it in somehow.
Training log: Bike – 8 miles. Run/walk – 1.25 miles. (Also taught senior exercise class and did a little core work and light weights at the gym.)
Motivation log: I learned that making a commitment to training is a matter of deciding to take the little steps that make it hard not to train. It’s that simple.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Two Months to Worlds Triathlon
Okay, so I’m doing the aquathlon on September 8 and the sprint triathlon on the 11th. Of the two, the triathlon represents my goal race, while the other is important but mostly a practice race, like the Couples Triathlon this morning. No offense to aquathlon specialists, but adding the bike into the mix raises the stakes considerably. The transitions alone are hard enough to manage, and then there’s the 20K bike ride to prepare for. Good thing I like cycling.
The triathlon in Budapest will be more difficult than the aquathlon because waves start between 6:55 and 8:20 a.m., and I’ll use my wetsuit. However, the aquathlon waves will start between 11:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., so the weather will probably be warm enough to swim without a wetsuit. If it isn’t, I’m still not sure I want to squirm into it while I’m hot and sweaty from running and then yank it off to finish the run. Makes no sense to me.
This morning, my race at the Couples triathlon felt good through the swim and the bike. Not until the latter part of the run did I begin struggling with heat, humidity, and fatigue. My stomach felt a bit uncomfortable, and I also had an annoying series of images running through my head – the poop deck of an 18th-century man of war, a long handled cat poop scooper, a stinky porta-potty, and so on. By the time I finally realized that I should have made one more bathroom stop before the race, it was too late and there were no convenient bushes. Talk about sucking it up!
As an exercise in mental toughness, I pledged someone near and dear to me that for an entire week I wouldn’t look up my official results for this morning’s race, and so far I’ve stuck to the promise. I’m trying simply to focus on the fun and take the whole pressure of competition off my shoulders for these races leading up to Worlds. I got the impression that my swim and bike were reasonably fast compared with my previous races, but I suspect that my run/walk was pretty slow. Oh, well. It is what it is. I had fun, and that’s what counts these days.
Training log: Swim – 800 meters. Bike – 11.2 miles. Run/walk – 3.1 miles.
Motivation log: The emphasis on fun helped a lot.
The triathlon in Budapest will be more difficult than the aquathlon because waves start between 6:55 and 8:20 a.m., and I’ll use my wetsuit. However, the aquathlon waves will start between 11:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., so the weather will probably be warm enough to swim without a wetsuit. If it isn’t, I’m still not sure I want to squirm into it while I’m hot and sweaty from running and then yank it off to finish the run. Makes no sense to me.
This morning, my race at the Couples triathlon felt good through the swim and the bike. Not until the latter part of the run did I begin struggling with heat, humidity, and fatigue. My stomach felt a bit uncomfortable, and I also had an annoying series of images running through my head – the poop deck of an 18th-century man of war, a long handled cat poop scooper, a stinky porta-potty, and so on. By the time I finally realized that I should have made one more bathroom stop before the race, it was too late and there were no convenient bushes. Talk about sucking it up!
As an exercise in mental toughness, I pledged someone near and dear to me that for an entire week I wouldn’t look up my official results for this morning’s race, and so far I’ve stuck to the promise. I’m trying simply to focus on the fun and take the whole pressure of competition off my shoulders for these races leading up to Worlds. I got the impression that my swim and bike were reasonably fast compared with my previous races, but I suspect that my run/walk was pretty slow. Oh, well. It is what it is. I had fun, and that’s what counts these days.
Training log: Swim – 800 meters. Bike – 11.2 miles. Run/walk – 3.1 miles.
Motivation log: The emphasis on fun helped a lot.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Two Months till Worlds
Only two months remain until the start of the Dextro Energy Triathlon ITU World Championship Series Grand Finale in Budapest. Three groups of athletes will compete there – age group triathlon (sprint and Olympic distance), paratriathlon, and aquathlon athletes. On September 8, I’ll race the aquathlon (2.5K run, 1000 meter swim, 2.5K run) and on the 11th, I’ll race the sprint triathlon (750 meter swim, 20K bike, 5K run).
My training program is firmly on track, and I feel much better about the two races than I did last month. The fear that bothered me a while back was due to insufficient and incorrect training, so it feels very good to have made a commitment to myself to do things right. My previous half-hearted training was setting myself up for failure and building an excuse for poor performance at the same time. What a crock! I should be ashamed of myself.
But I’m not. I’m only a human being, not Wonder Woman. I make mistakes. I have fears. I sabotage myself. I get worried. I hide under the covers. I shed tears. I don’t train enough. I attach too much importance to my future performance and not enough to the daily training that will prepare me for two decent races. The whole point of going to Worlds is to have fun and enjoy the races, no matter how well or not so well I do.
Training log: Yesterday, I swam and ran. Today I did stretching, balance work, and strength training. Tomorrow will be bike and swim day.
Motivation log: Took stock of my situation and got back on track.
My training program is firmly on track, and I feel much better about the two races than I did last month. The fear that bothered me a while back was due to insufficient and incorrect training, so it feels very good to have made a commitment to myself to do things right. My previous half-hearted training was setting myself up for failure and building an excuse for poor performance at the same time. What a crock! I should be ashamed of myself.
But I’m not. I’m only a human being, not Wonder Woman. I make mistakes. I have fears. I sabotage myself. I get worried. I hide under the covers. I shed tears. I don’t train enough. I attach too much importance to my future performance and not enough to the daily training that will prepare me for two decent races. The whole point of going to Worlds is to have fun and enjoy the races, no matter how well or not so well I do.
Training log: Yesterday, I swam and ran. Today I did stretching, balance work, and strength training. Tomorrow will be bike and swim day.
Motivation log: Took stock of my situation and got back on track.
Buffalo Springs 70.3 More Cowbell Report
So. Yeah. No. I mean, here we are posting our report much later than all the racers who usually write race reports. What’s up with that? So, what we’re trying to say is that cowbelling is, like, really hard work. I mean, seriously!
First, you have to drive to West Effin Texas, home of the Large Lub-buttocks. Hey, don’t take offense. We’re from Ass-tin, after all. Furthermore, some of us will race in Booty-Pest in September, and some of us are heading out to Keester-ville for training this weekend. So be sure you get your head or some other part of your anatomy around this motif because it figures prominently a bit later in the book. And you thought Red’s reports were long. Hah!
Next, you have to deal with an exploding coffee pot at 4:00 in the morning – BEFORE you’ve had your coffee. So, yeah, I mean, coffee was flying everywhere. Probably a good thing we couldn’t actually drink it because it tasted terrible when you tried to lick it up off the shelf. Somebody famous said “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” but don’t do the lick thing. I’m just saying. Oh, yeah. Don’t do the spill thing either. And for heaven’s sake don’t do the – Well, I’d better shut up now. What’s said in Lubbock stays in Lubbock, even if half the town can hear you. But that comes later.
Then, as a cowbeller you have to swim, bike, and run part of the course so you’ll know where to stand for proper cowbelling. I mean, who knew West Texas has a spring-fed, wetsuit-legal lake? Where did those mountains, I mean, MouNtaiNs, actually, MOUNTAINS come from? And the run course. What can you say? Okay, it smells like cow poop. Either the smell or the wind can knock you off your feet. Watch out when there’s both! Where was all this information on the BS (teehee) website? It’s nice that Chris Lieto and Andrea Fisher competed for $25,000, but I’m just saying that everyone should get something for being out there. Hoo, boy!
So on Saturday after 56 or 28 miles on the bike, depending on whether your name is Cindy or Kristen or Jody, we cooled off with some laps in the lake and then took a trail hike that overlooked the whole venue. It was some kind of gorgeous! A few of us had been flirting with Lubbock because the
mornings are so cool and pleasant, but that view! Man, that view brought on a serious love affair. The whole move-to-Lubbock thing was going on. If it hadn’t been for the exploding coffee pot, the difficulty in finding Tecate, and the event that caused the “Oh-Crap-Oh-Sh*t-Oh-F**k” refrain, it might have been “Bye-Bye-Cap-City.”
Anyway, race morning started at something like pre-dawn-thirty in the A of M, or it felt that early, and we set out for the race site with a plan – Cindy and Kristen would bike in to save $6.00 apiece, while Jody would drive in for only $2.00, thanks to the elderly discount. It turns out that a very nice lady with only one missing tooth let the whole car in for $6.00. She did this for two reasons – Kristen’s bike was on her car-top carrier, which made the lovely lady think we had a racer on board, and Jody hid in the back seat, thereby becoming a criminal, a tax evader, and a thoroughly naughty old gal. Watch out, folks!
Then came the big decisions – where to park, what to take to the cowbell location, and where to find the porta-potties. We aced only the last of these and even then we had to use the men’s side because the women’s side resembled a toilet at the end of a crowded, three-day bus ride in a third world country. Overflowing odoriferousness!
Parking was in an unmowed field where sticker weeds, huge ants, I mean, HUGE, and snakes roamed freely. In fact, a policeman caught a bull snake about 4.5 feet long and offered to let us touch it. Cindy consented to having her picture taken with it because she had seen an even larger one on her long bike ride the day before, hence the “Oh-Crap-Oh-Sh*t-Oh-F**k” theme mentioned earlier.
We mostly struck out on the what-to-take idea. The tent, which the racers were counting on, had to stay in the car because how can you drag something like that through sticker weeds, ants, and snakes, I mean, SNAKES!!!! Furthermore, how can you ride the tent down that big hill at the beginning of the bike course? Sure, it’s got wheels, but we’d have wound up knocking over the entire transition area and the sweet little EMS people at the finish line. So we took turns carrying a heavy ice chest filled with water, lemonade, and Tecate, the most important item.
Finally in position at Bike Out and ready to cowbell, we did some warm-up wrist circles, a few Woo-Hoo’s, and some sunscreen spraying. For the longest time, we didn’t see any Tri Zoners, but we certainly saw some interesting racers. One guy headed out on the bike course without his helmet. We could see his mouth move to the “Oh-Sh*t” song before he turned back for it. We saw a guy wreck his fancy race wheel just a few yards into the race. He stoically returned to the start to work on his bike. Much pumping took place. We heard a loud POP just as another guy was screaming down the hill at the end of the bike course, but he didn’t stop. He must have figured he could make it to transition on the rim. Good-bye, sweet wheel.
Then we moved to a position where we could watch Run Out and Run In. By this time, it was hot. I mean, HOT, as in no-cloud-cover-high-humidity-high-temperature HOT. There’s where we saw all of our real Tri Zoners and our adopted ones, Ingrid and Kim from Houston. So should we adopt the A-man or not? I’m thinking maybe not so much, in light of what almost happened at dinner that night.
So Carolyn finished the aqua bike and joined us for a while, and we met up with Kenneth, Bob, and Paul, who just LOVES a high-pitched little cowbell we brought along. It actually made nice harmony with one of the large Tri Zones cowbells. So, I mean, we’re working both sides of the road as we high-five our racers to the finish line. We may have been sick of the cowbell sound by then, but we rang and rang some more to make sure everyone else would get sick of it too – oh, wait. No. Yeah. We rang to celebrate our finishers. There. That’s better.
All of our Tri Zoners looked strong at the finish, though some looked hotter than others. Some had a few gastro-intestinal issues. Some needed to lie down. Some needed to talk their heads off. Some got all quiet and meditative. Some needed to go jump in the lake, I mean, sit in the lake to cool off. To each his or her own! We rang for them all because all are half Ironmen. I mean, you need to kiss their feet, and somebody did that very thing at dinner. Their feet, once cleaned up a bit, are totally kissable. When is the last time YOU covered 70.3 miles under your own power on one of the toughest half-iron courses there is? I mean, really. Kiss! Don’t kiss up. Just kiss.
So on to the celebratory dinner. We went to Abuelo’s, but I swear Jody was the oldest person there. Our people at one table behaved themselves decorously with most excellent race stories. The cowbellers and other support sherpas were totally lapping it up. Amazing stuff! All of a sudden, our people at the other table shouted, I mean SCREAMED, with laughter. And they didn’t stop. It went on and on. Apparently, someone pressed the A-man’s On button and couldn’t find the Off button. Since the fling with Lubbock was over, much flirtation ensued and there was some talk of the A-man going home with the single ladies, but one of them declared in no uncertain terms, “He’s not getting in OUR car!” So, no, I’m not sure anyone will be adopting the A-man anytime soon, lovely boy though he is. Maybe we missed an opportunity, but it was totally missable with an “M.” Trust me on this.
So. Oh, yeah. Now it’s the next morning and time for the drive home. Three sets of gentle snores greeted first light, then dawn, and finally the day. A brief flirtation with the beautiful morning sky, followed by a long or short run depending on who tells the story, and we’re ready to butt-break it back to Austin. The cowbellers’ wrists are in decent shape, the cowbells are safely back in Austin, and the cowbellers are in training for the next big race. Woo-Hoo!!
First, you have to drive to West Effin Texas, home of the Large Lub-buttocks. Hey, don’t take offense. We’re from Ass-tin, after all. Furthermore, some of us will race in Booty-Pest in September, and some of us are heading out to Keester-ville for training this weekend. So be sure you get your head or some other part of your anatomy around this motif because it figures prominently a bit later in the book. And you thought Red’s reports were long. Hah!
Next, you have to deal with an exploding coffee pot at 4:00 in the morning – BEFORE you’ve had your coffee. So, yeah, I mean, coffee was flying everywhere. Probably a good thing we couldn’t actually drink it because it tasted terrible when you tried to lick it up off the shelf. Somebody famous said “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” but don’t do the lick thing. I’m just saying. Oh, yeah. Don’t do the spill thing either. And for heaven’s sake don’t do the – Well, I’d better shut up now. What’s said in Lubbock stays in Lubbock, even if half the town can hear you. But that comes later.
Then, as a cowbeller you have to swim, bike, and run part of the course so you’ll know where to stand for proper cowbelling. I mean, who knew West Texas has a spring-fed, wetsuit-legal lake? Where did those mountains, I mean, MouNtaiNs, actually, MOUNTAINS come from? And the run course. What can you say? Okay, it smells like cow poop. Either the smell or the wind can knock you off your feet. Watch out when there’s both! Where was all this information on the BS (teehee) website? It’s nice that Chris Lieto and Andrea Fisher competed for $25,000, but I’m just saying that everyone should get something for being out there. Hoo, boy!
So on Saturday after 56 or 28 miles on the bike, depending on whether your name is Cindy or Kristen or Jody, we cooled off with some laps in the lake and then took a trail hike that overlooked the whole venue. It was some kind of gorgeous! A few of us had been flirting with Lubbock because the
mornings are so cool and pleasant, but that view! Man, that view brought on a serious love affair. The whole move-to-Lubbock thing was going on. If it hadn’t been for the exploding coffee pot, the difficulty in finding Tecate, and the event that caused the “Oh-Crap-Oh-Sh*t-Oh-F**k” refrain, it might have been “Bye-Bye-Cap-City.”
Anyway, race morning started at something like pre-dawn-thirty in the A of M, or it felt that early, and we set out for the race site with a plan – Cindy and Kristen would bike in to save $6.00 apiece, while Jody would drive in for only $2.00, thanks to the elderly discount. It turns out that a very nice lady with only one missing tooth let the whole car in for $6.00. She did this for two reasons – Kristen’s bike was on her car-top carrier, which made the lovely lady think we had a racer on board, and Jody hid in the back seat, thereby becoming a criminal, a tax evader, and a thoroughly naughty old gal. Watch out, folks!
Then came the big decisions – where to park, what to take to the cowbell location, and where to find the porta-potties. We aced only the last of these and even then we had to use the men’s side because the women’s side resembled a toilet at the end of a crowded, three-day bus ride in a third world country. Overflowing odoriferousness!
Parking was in an unmowed field where sticker weeds, huge ants, I mean, HUGE, and snakes roamed freely. In fact, a policeman caught a bull snake about 4.5 feet long and offered to let us touch it. Cindy consented to having her picture taken with it because she had seen an even larger one on her long bike ride the day before, hence the “Oh-Crap-Oh-Sh*t-Oh-F**k” theme mentioned earlier.
We mostly struck out on the what-to-take idea. The tent, which the racers were counting on, had to stay in the car because how can you drag something like that through sticker weeds, ants, and snakes, I mean, SNAKES!!!! Furthermore, how can you ride the tent down that big hill at the beginning of the bike course? Sure, it’s got wheels, but we’d have wound up knocking over the entire transition area and the sweet little EMS people at the finish line. So we took turns carrying a heavy ice chest filled with water, lemonade, and Tecate, the most important item.
Finally in position at Bike Out and ready to cowbell, we did some warm-up wrist circles, a few Woo-Hoo’s, and some sunscreen spraying. For the longest time, we didn’t see any Tri Zoners, but we certainly saw some interesting racers. One guy headed out on the bike course without his helmet. We could see his mouth move to the “Oh-Sh*t” song before he turned back for it. We saw a guy wreck his fancy race wheel just a few yards into the race. He stoically returned to the start to work on his bike. Much pumping took place. We heard a loud POP just as another guy was screaming down the hill at the end of the bike course, but he didn’t stop. He must have figured he could make it to transition on the rim. Good-bye, sweet wheel.
Then we moved to a position where we could watch Run Out and Run In. By this time, it was hot. I mean, HOT, as in no-cloud-cover-high-humidity-high-temperature HOT. There’s where we saw all of our real Tri Zoners and our adopted ones, Ingrid and Kim from Houston. So should we adopt the A-man or not? I’m thinking maybe not so much, in light of what almost happened at dinner that night.
So Carolyn finished the aqua bike and joined us for a while, and we met up with Kenneth, Bob, and Paul, who just LOVES a high-pitched little cowbell we brought along. It actually made nice harmony with one of the large Tri Zones cowbells. So, I mean, we’re working both sides of the road as we high-five our racers to the finish line. We may have been sick of the cowbell sound by then, but we rang and rang some more to make sure everyone else would get sick of it too – oh, wait. No. Yeah. We rang to celebrate our finishers. There. That’s better.
All of our Tri Zoners looked strong at the finish, though some looked hotter than others. Some had a few gastro-intestinal issues. Some needed to lie down. Some needed to talk their heads off. Some got all quiet and meditative. Some needed to go jump in the lake, I mean, sit in the lake to cool off. To each his or her own! We rang for them all because all are half Ironmen. I mean, you need to kiss their feet, and somebody did that very thing at dinner. Their feet, once cleaned up a bit, are totally kissable. When is the last time YOU covered 70.3 miles under your own power on one of the toughest half-iron courses there is? I mean, really. Kiss! Don’t kiss up. Just kiss.
So on to the celebratory dinner. We went to Abuelo’s, but I swear Jody was the oldest person there. Our people at one table behaved themselves decorously with most excellent race stories. The cowbellers and other support sherpas were totally lapping it up. Amazing stuff! All of a sudden, our people at the other table shouted, I mean SCREAMED, with laughter. And they didn’t stop. It went on and on. Apparently, someone pressed the A-man’s On button and couldn’t find the Off button. Since the fling with Lubbock was over, much flirtation ensued and there was some talk of the A-man going home with the single ladies, but one of them declared in no uncertain terms, “He’s not getting in OUR car!” So, no, I’m not sure anyone will be adopting the A-man anytime soon, lovely boy though he is. Maybe we missed an opportunity, but it was totally missable with an “M.” Trust me on this.
So. Oh, yeah. Now it’s the next morning and time for the drive home. Three sets of gentle snores greeted first light, then dawn, and finally the day. A brief flirtation with the beautiful morning sky, followed by a long or short run depending on who tells the story, and we’re ready to butt-break it back to Austin. The cowbellers’ wrists are in decent shape, the cowbells are safely back in Austin, and the cowbellers are in training for the next big race. Woo-Hoo!!
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