It was a couple of degrees colder on the Sunday and there was some frost on the ground. I think it was about -4 Celsius when I left the condo. I did a bit of riding around to stay warm and started to notice that, yeah, I wasn’t as fresh as the day before. I still felt good, but I wasn’t all that eager to take any big digs during my warm-up.
Hockey fight at the CX race? Well, ok, then.
One thing pissed me off. As much as I appreciate guys that are similarly invested and ready to go hard at these things, I don’t like any bullshit. I’ll bump shoulders with a guy if we’re fighting for a line and have an equal chance of getting it. If I’m behind, he’s got it, and I’m only going to play games by moving up on him, then I don’t. I’ll wait till there’s a spot I can come even to duke it out or attack to get around outright. I’m saying this ’cause this yahoo starts to come up on my inside going into a right hand corner. I look up and basically its going to work out that if I don’t move off my line and let him take it he’s going to ride into the stake. As much as I don’t want a complete stranger to impale himself on a metal pole, I’m not going to just give him my line out of courtesy. So I point that out. And he drops back, all good. Until the next corner. This clown pulls even and starts to lean in on me, pushing his arm into mine and trying to ride me into the tape. I guess he thought I was being a dick earlier or something but I didn’t appreciate his little reindeer games. I probably weighed 40 pounds more than him, and, if I wanted to, could’ve shoved him back to Nevada or California or wherever the fuck he had rode up from. But I didn’t. I briefly considered punching him, but I didn’t do that either.
The Great Wall of Thermal.
The announcers made some jokes when I came across the start-finish line on some lap:
“And here’s Kevin Rosmanitz from Calgary, Canada, and Synergy Racing. He’s wearing his regulation Canadian thermal wear out here folks.”
“That’s right, those Canadians know their thermal gear.”
“It’s the Great Wall of Thermal.”
So I spent a quarter lap laughing. And then I spent the last quarter lap suffering abjectly to stay ahead of a train of four that was coming on way faster than I could stay away. I came out of the singletrack area, bombed down a hill next to the beer gardens, and came into the barriers the last time trying to ride fast enough to not get caught but conservatively enough to not blow up.
I think I was happier with holding tenth on Sunday than I was with getting seventh on Saturday. My whole body felt like jello but it was a nice way to end it.