The sports world is abuzz over the pending cutter olympic triathlon battle royale on September 12th in and around Olympia, WA between Lance and the “old man”. What’s a cutter? If you’ve never watched Breaking Away, stop reading RIGHT NOW and rent/watch it before going to sleep tonight.
Lance and I train with a racing team that wears matching kits. Even worse, they ride the same Scott carbon fiber bikes. We roll in with our funky, non-matching jerseys and steeds and embrace our second class citizenship. So far no one has stuck a pump in our spokes although they’re no doubt tempted when we hang with them over hill and dale.
Lance scored a major pre-race victory yesterday, but I turned the tables today. In case you’re heading to Vegas and intend on betting on the cutter battle royale, Lance’s victory was a bit more substantive.
Sunday morning we had planned on climbing Mount St. Helen’s, but the weather was iffy. Lance nutted up and rode it solo, 74+ miles, 7,000′ of climbing, and get this, he NEVER unclipped. What type of person doesn’t water up and regroup at the top? A focused person on a mission that’s what type! Meanwhile, back on the flats, I rode half that distance with the benefit of a group.
My victory today consisted of a fake email missive. It’s raining in our corner of the world for the first time since anyone can remember. So I fired off this message. Subject heading: It’s ugly outside.. . Body: . . so I’m going for a ride.
Lance fell for it hook, line, and sinker and wrote back: Nice one. Really?
I had no idea it would be that easy to get inside his head. Over the next five weeks I plan on taking up permanent residence there.