Nick le Boy and I post-race, mid pit-bitch, overtired and wondering what number of individuals would inform us of the obvious.
Grass patches was like gold this weekend, few and far between but highly sought after.
More mud-caked shots to follow. Mostly ones I did not take, but have seen... words to follow, as well.
Always be aware of the location of the finish line. Non-awareness can cost you two hard-earned spots, an unnecessary scolding from a UCI official, and a head full of over analysis. However, depending on your ability to introspect, the overall situation of non-awareness molted into awareness can earn you skills in learning how to roll with the punches. Your own self-inflicted ones, that is. Above is the finish line from Beacon. Concealed in its fading white paint scrawl is a lesson learned.
Things have been pretty muddy these days. Yesss. Jamesburg Cross and some blue suede shoes.
Fambly photo.
So, after much debate, although I knew I had wanted it done, the hair atop my head was alas cut. Reasons were as follows: less water usage during shower time; less shower time and more other time; some kid with no hair gets a wig made out of mine; and, of course, no more swinging pendulum braid during races (I knew it was time when one announcer actually made a comment). The short hair thing is, well, awesome. Now, I would like for it to be even shorter.
