Tales of Pain - Continued

So, fast forward a year from where we left off. We were no longer in Kansas (right Toto?) and instead, we found ourselves in a place that does not suit us flatlandish Midwesterners - Ft. Collins, Colorado. There were real, legit climbs in the vicinity. We had to go up a few, and while to me they were real, hardcore climbs, to climbers they were just mole hills. I'm such a pansy. The road race went fine. As always, I missed the split. It was more of a who could climb and who couldn't. I popped about 100 meters too early, right before the end of a gradual two mile climb without much of decent afterwards. I never caught back on - it was hardcore lame, I was probably the 2nd to last guy to get popped from the lead group. I brought it home in the laughing group, except none of us were laughing as there was a huge crash on the decent back into town. Mike (R2G) was in that crash, and I honestly thought he might have died. He looked dead as I rode by and as it turns out, he just had some hardcore road rash. When he was on the road, though, he just decided that it would be cool to take a nap while the EMT's tended to everyone else, specifically Sean Noonan who was really, really messed up.

While that all really sucked, the heartbreak comes the next day at the nationals crit in downtown Ft. Collins. We weren't too far away from the New Belgium Brewery - I still kick myself in the ass for not stopping by. Anyway, after a solid performance by Jenn in her race (an awesome 8th place at nationals...I have no doubt in my mind that she had the sprint to win the race, just had some crappy positioning coming in...8th aint bad though), I took the line with Mike, who was a badass and raced after a hardcore crash. He ended up crashing on the very last corner of the race because some dude ran into him and overlapped handlebars. He walked his dead cannondale synapse over the line. I was having a good race from the get go. I had some left in the tank from the day before and the powersticks were jumpy. I was a part of a few early moves that got reeled in. Of course, the move I wasn't in was the one that was going to stick. It was just really weird, though, as people kept leaving the peleton to make it up to the break. At first it was 5, then 6, then 7, then 8. After a lap or two of that, I was like screw this, Im going because no one is going to chase me. I went, and no one chased me. I chased for a lap full gas and was just about to make contact onto the back of the group. I knew this was the group that would take the win, and I was getting gassed trying to catch them. I took a few risks around some corners to make up time and it was paying off. Then, this one corner - well, it sucked. The sidewalk melted into the road and the road narrowed some. I took it going 30-some and hit the little bump from the sidewalk. It threw off my line and before I knew it, I had to bunny hop the curb and then a pile of 5 bikes. Having cleared BOTH and still being on two wheels, I slipped and ate it in the grass. I got back in the race with the pack but could only manage to yo-yo off the back. I think I bounced my head pretty hard when I hit the deck. Of course, the group that I almost made it up to sprinted it out for the win (&$%#) and I managed to flat on the last lap, not finishing.

Yay Nationals!!

So, I have one more tale that makes me want to punch myself in the face. Tune in, well, sometime and Ill throw down and let you know. Maybe this is entertaining? No? Fine, well, this is probably entertaining....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7IESL-R6WE

it's the band of Jason Ellis - a skater and a dude that has a radio program on satellite radio...if you act like a 12 year old like I do (only if you ACT like 12 year olds, not date them) youll probably find him funny