TRIP REPORT: Eagleman 70.3 Ride, Part Deux
I'm back at work and back on normal billable hours. I find that I most creative in writing race reports and trip reports when I'm on billable hours. Comp hours are good too but real men write trip reports during normal billable hours. Below is my trip report.
I went back to the Cambridge, MD with a bunch of DCTri folks this past weekend to once again tango with the Eagleman 70.3 bike course. Others merely ride the course but at DCTri we roll differently. To us, it's not a dance, it's tango. It's not sex, it's love making. It's not Tang ... it's Tang with ice cubes.
This time with had a different crew than the previous ride. We no longer had the Hippies/Hipsters with us. Apparently staying home smoking ganja were more important to them than the training. When will these hippies learn that it's not the ganja. It's what you do with the ganja that gets you to the finish line.
We had a smaller crew this time around. We had the super freak Lawrence who came with his $10,000 Cervelo tri bike, Ironman Athena of all Athenas Emily, "hey who's kid is that? If he touches my bike wheels one more time, the number fingers on your hand will equal the number of spokes on my bike" Becky, the white chick with a Japanese name (Suzuki/Susanna), and me ... the human highlight film in the water, the reasons why your mother told you to never vote Democrats.
It has always disturbed me that within DCTri we have a kitten killer (i.e., Zina) among our ranks. Well, we can now add another animal baby killer to that list. On the way to our ride, our Ironman stud Emily tried to kill Bambi with her car. Bambi!!! Sweet little Bambi who bothers no one. Are there any thing left that are still sacred in this country ? Somewhere in the greater DC area there is a a deer with three and a half legs roaming the forest. If you see it, you know who did it. Why can't Americans behave more like the ways of the Vietnamese. If we kill a kitten or a deer ... you know that there is legit wedding involved.
I meet the Suzuki for the first time on this ride. To all of the white folks out there, please refrain from picking up Asian sounding nicknames. It's throws off my Asian-dar. My Asian-dar is all that I have. If you tell me that your name is Suzuki, you should either drive a Suzuki or be a Japanese. You can't be white, drive a Dodge Vibe, and call yourself Suzuki. That's just wrong. I now have to spend the next few weeks recalibrating my Asian-dar.
The other thing that stood out about Suzuki was that she was decked out in glow in the dark lavender. Her bike was glow in the dark lavender. Her helmet was glow in the dark lavender. Her shirt was glow in the dark lavender. Her sports bra was glow in the dark lavender. I thought that Amanda had cat-lady like qualities but man ... nothing says "I'm a cat lady" more than a white woman who is decked out in glow in the dark lavender, drives a Dodge Vibe, and calls herself Suzuki. Suzuki is a cute girl but boys and girls, we are talking triple digits cat lady here. If your ball lands in her yard, don't even think about it. Just go and buy a new ball.
The saddest thing about this is that the Suzuki is a NTP mentor. This means that somewhere within DCTri there is a NPT mentee who is currently decked out in glow in the dark lavender tri gear. Seriously, how many cat-ladies can one tri club handle ? How many Bambis and Kittens need be killed before we all stand up and say enough is enough ? How come all of the men in DCTri are so normal and all of the women so ...hmmm ... lavender-ish ?
The ride this time was surprisingly just as flat as the last time that we were there. The distance was exactly the same (56 miles). The wind was still there but much more tolerable than the last time. The last time that we went, the wind made me feel like I was getting bitch-slapped by women with their strong hands. This time, they went with the weaker/less dominant hands but the emotional scares and physical pain were still there.
For about half of the ride we broke up into three sub groups. The Freak and the Suzuki were the lead off group. These guys can fly on the bike. The Suzuki told me before the ride that she was just hopping to hit her normal split time of 3:30. I found out really quick that "the lavender one" was setting me up. If I'm going at 20 mph and I still can't catch you, you are not 3:30. If you came in second in your age group at Kinetic ... you are not 3:30. I now have to add another item to my women are cruel list. Item #1: They like to give me fake phone numbers. Item #2: They like to bitch slap me and now item #3: They like to give me fake bike split times. Being a man is so hard. Women have it so easy.
The second group was lead by the Athena of all Athenas Emily. At about half way through the ride she picked up another dude not named Lawrence or Tuan. Ok, let me just stop and interject here. Here are the proper etiquettes of riding when you are with the Tuan-man. Number 1, there is no Facebooking or Twittering. I'm right next to you, there is no need to update your status. Number 2, there's no picking up other men while you are riding with the Tuan-man.
The third group was anchored by Becky and I. For someone who is supposedly slower than dirt when it come to biking, the woman can fly. She kept telling me to go ahead and leave her if she was holding her back. I was like, "if I go any faster, I may never be able to produce children."
We went to Panera Bread again after our ride. As we were sitting INSIDE of the restaurant Becky starts barking as some kid OUTSIDE of the restaurant. The poor kid can't hear her but she was yelling at this kid to stop touching her bike and that he should touch my bike instead. I was like ... "hey! Don't tell the little walking bugger to touch the Vamboghini." The Tuan-man don't play that game. Besides, the kid's got taste. You can't blame him from touching the expensive merchandise. He was probably a "time-out" baby. Those babies tend to grow up with the tendencies to touch the expensive stuff. He wasn't taught discipline at the Ho Chi Minh Daycare Center like some of us.
Overall, I think that we did well. It felt good to end up with a faster time than what we did last time. I've meet some really cool people, folks who pushed me harder than I would normally push myself. To all of the folks who were with me on this ride as well as the previous one, thank you. If there is a good ride coming up, let me know (firstname.lastname@example.org). Hope to see you all again on road soon. I have more insults to give, more love to share. I now must go and wash some of these lavender kuddies off of me. I feel so dirty.
PRICELESS. I laughed, i cried! My new goal, like that of many others I'm sure, is to be mentioned in one of your reports one day, Tuan. (Zina got mentioned and she wasn't even there!) I'd write more but I have the munchies
I'm a joker, I'm a smoker, I'm a midnight toker.
Listen Tuan, don't get me wrong - you're a nice guy and all...but you've got a LOT of rules. No Facebooking on the bike. No picking up other guys. No wearing too much pink. No Japanese nicknames. No maiming Bambi. It's a little much! How do you expect us to develop as athletes with all of these bizarre restrictions? Take a page from Becky, who only had one rule: No touchy bikey!
Suzanne, who admittedly was not helping her anti-pink crusade by wearing a good deal of it on Sunday
Let me get this straight.....I didn't kill Bambi! Bambi was trying to get out of DC via crossing 295 near Penn Ave and just happened to get in the way of my car going 55mph. Stupid deer owes me the $500 deductible.
And...I did not pick up the other rider - he latched on to my wheel early on. As much as I said 'feel free to go ahead if I'm holding you back' he didn't.
Come on, cut me a little slack, it was a rough day and by the time that little brat started man handling my ride I was a bit frazzled.
To start the morning, I almost lost my bike on 295 going 80mph. Freak and I had to stop to adjust the straps not once, but twice. Not only do I survive a white knuckle ride to Cambride with 2 bikes in tow and, thankfully, no dead deer on my conscience but I manage to eke out a relatively wind-light ride on really tired legs only to be thrown for a loop at our post-ride lunch.
First the vacant sales clerk at Panera makes fun of me for ordering a pbj and chocolate milk... and then, while enjoying said PBJ some little punk decides to play the Price Is Right spin the wheel with my tri-spokes. And it wasn't just the little punk, his dad and grandad were in on the action and taking turns shooting for a dollar...there were 3 other bikes they could have been playing with within 15 feet of mine (including the Freak's far, far, far superior piece of machinery), but no... they wanted to play with the wierd looking wheels.
So, yes, I think my one-rule, aptly summarized by Suzuki-in-Pink: no touchy-bikey (with a related, but equally important subset rule - you break it you buy it) is all I need to roll...
Hmm.. T-man, perhaps you should start up a Ho Chi Minh City-style daycare center here in the states to teach these folks some manners.
-paws off the bike Becky