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State of the States....

Photos Courtesy of Race CX

Done and done. No more racing. Sad? Hell no. I am happy in the head but suffering horribly in the body. Not suffering from the race though. I am literally sitting in the bathroom typing as I have succumb to what the family was ‘blessed’ with last night. Amy and I go out for dinner feeling good, come home and relieve the baby sitter. We check on our kids, big man first, before going to bed and he has spewed himself silly. My little man has it coming out the other end when we check on him. We get things squared away, new sheets and diaper and hit the rack. My lady by 3 AM is in the bathroom, head in the toilet. Joy. We wake up, call an audible on the day as it hasn’t hit me and Amy pushes me out the door to go race (she rules).

The warm up was fun on the single speed. I could tell it was going to be technical and fun like I like it. The course ruled. Race time comes and I win the hole shot. I just wanted to be free and clear of the any train wrecks and any back up in the woods section. I got what I wanted and made it through in like 4th with Tim F...

Kiester and Moots’ Jon C....
They says adios when we hit the pavement and smartly bury themselves to carve off their selection and that was that. I just need to settle in and try to hang in, get some points and hold on to my goal at the beginning of the season to make top 10 overall the 35 A’s. Not sure if I achieved that. We'll see.

All is going according to plan. My cheap ass Michelin’s as I KNEW kicked butt in that mud. Not once did the bike feel it was going to give out. It railed. So, in sum: Bike: Great. Pilot: Not so great. By lap three I’m probably in 9th or 10th and the tachometer starts to go left dipping lower and lower. I can not go deep. Can not get my heart rate up (avg’d 165 on the day with a 180 max). Dudes are bridging to me then seeing my drool, decide to drop me. 10th guy. 11th guy, 12th guy 13th guy, 14th guy…probably back to like 16th or 17th. I settle in, try and tell myself: “This is the last race shit head. The States fer chrisakes! Do not get passed again…” I start to hold on and try to go deeper. I pick off a guy here, bridge to the next guy, settle in, look ahead to someone else I can try to bridge to.

Bell lap. One and done. So I carve off Jared and a Red Rocks guy. I don’t want to pull up the hill so I radically move left to get another guy to pull almost taking out my boy Jared (SORRY JARED!!!!!!!!!!!). Jared then proceeds to throw the GAUNTLET.......and rails it solo up the hill in a mad sprint. Huge. I’m like “…later homie!” He knows I am a cooked sardine. Red Rocks guy is dead(er) than me so I just get on with it and trudge up the hill on my own. We make it to the woods...

...and I start to bridge back to Jared. I am working the woods the best I can. Jared is moving through the S Turns on the pavement like a demon.

We hit the back section and I close the gap to Jared. He and I see Clay and drop him. He’s suffering. We fly through the mud section, up and over the barriers...

...and get to the bump before the road. I see my boy go right, I slip through the hole left and we sprint to the finish together. I caught Jared by a wheel. I grabbed 14th and Jared 15th. You made me want to throw up Jared! Normally, sprinting for anything after 10th is friggin dumb but this was states! And frankly it was fun to go to the line with someone. We "owed it" to the big crowd at the line. Great lap Jared!

So here I am now in the bathroom. Body succumbing to the badness. It’ll pass. I’m done. Maybe one more race in CA if I feel like cleaning off my bike. We’ll see.

Awesome season and I learned a lot for the first time in the 35 A’s. Clearly stronger than I’d been used to in the 3’s and about consistent with the few P1-2 races I’ve done but obviously shorter. This is the cat I need to be in and I need to work harder next year if I can afford the time. It truly was about the top 4 or 5 this year then everyone else. Those guys up front are sick. It’s so much fun though to chill weekend in and out with rad people. I wish I could’ve hung with the RM-Izze boys today as the beer and brats were flowing and cookin. I hope they crushed it.

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