I was hanging out with myself today when something struck me as odd. As a matter of fact, it was so odd that I said to myself, “Self, why haven’t you written a diary about a bike race yet?” I don’t want you guys to think I just hang out and flex in front of the mirrors all day. I mean all day would be ridiculous, it’s really only like forty, maybe forty five minutes at most. But that’s rather inconsequential at the moment. Because right now were going to talk bike racing.

Before I begin, lets get something straight. I hate writing about bike races because I hate reading other peoples tedious European stories about their awful day in the gutter. Every story is the same: And then it was windy and I was then in the 14^th group in the gutter and then I dropped my bottle trying to drink some water while chewing a granola bar. So I like to make my diary a bit different from the normal: Flex-Offs, TV shows and dog food. But today’s different because I’m going to tell you about a bike race. The race was Zellik-Galmaarden. It’s a UCI 1.5 that I did with the National Team this past weekend. A UCI ranking of 1.5 means that it is basically the highest level one day race an amateur can do without knowing someone who knows someone who’s got a cousin that knows people. So here we go, my race diary but with a new twist. A race diary timeline….

1:00 pm-  Zellik-Galmaarden starts with almost 200 guys. That jerk Mr. Wind showed up and brought his annoying little cousins Rain and Cold along. I hate       those guys.

1:45-   Mr. Wind is in a sour mood today, maybe only 125 guys left.

2:00-   Yeah Rain and Cold are still hanging around too, we got 100 guys at most.

2:20-   Said “hi” to Mr. Bosberg (a cobbled climb), he was rather cordial.

2:50-   Said “hi” to Mr. Bosberg again, he was cordial again. I like that guy.

3:22-   Voice in head said to move up, couldn’t really. Said “hi” to Mr. Muur (a cobbled           climb), he wasn’t to cordial. Jerk.

3:28-   Me and a bunch of other guys begin chasing to close the small gap. I begin         wondering if my brake pads will survive the race. Can’t feel hands.

3:33-   Back in the peloton just in time to see Mr. Bosberg again. But he was a bit upset           this time and makes me chase. Damnit I hate chasing.

3:48-    Back in what’s left of the peloton. Maybe 50 guys. Oh yeah, Mr. Wind and his              cousins still won’t leave. I’ve asked them twice. They’re really getting on my       nerves.

4:03-    Wonder what the other racers would say if they knew I had no brake pads left.             Start evil laugh……

4:14-   End evil laugh.

4:32-   Can’t feel left hand. Begin waving left hand violently and slap left hand on           handlebar to regain enough feeling to shift into little chain ring. Start wondering           how retarded I must look to anyone watching this….

4:36-   Finally able to shift to little ring.

4:37-    Saw Mr. Bosberg again. Didn’t say “hi” this time. That guys starting to annoy me.

5:00-   With one local lap to go, my group of 15 is pulled and scored “outside time       limit”.    Brain is to cold to produce an emotional response. Wander off to  changing rooms. Excited to regain feeling in hands and feet. Not excited to             shower with a bunch of naked Europeans.

Final scoreboard: 200-ish starters (7 National Team), 49 finishers (0 National Team),  26 scored “outside time limit” (3 National Team).

Categories: Austin King's Chronicles From Across The Pond.