Testicles are an awesome invention. Actually it should be awesome with a capital 'A' and italicized. Yes, testicles. They can bring you such joy, like a gaggle of children and equally bring you such pain like when they get kicked....or in my case pancaked on my saddle by the single most unPRO means possible: the mis-mount. Ball squashing tales in a second....
Yesterday was Boulder Racing No. 1 at the Louisville Rec Center. A course that is a mountain biker's paradise, more than a criterium racer's playground. Technical climbs, bumpy grass descents and tons of barriers would ensure the 'crossers ruled the day.
The sun was blazing at 9:45 AM when the 35 Master's toed the line. Brandon and Jeremiah had the Boulder Cycle Sport tent up and active providing awesome support to just about anyone who needed help. My Ridley's were ready to go...but I was not sure about the body as I woke up heady and tired from the long trip to SSWC and CrossVegas.
Call ups done, the pretty large field waited in anticipation for the whistle. My plan was to 'not work' and just see how the body would come around and do something late in the race.
"Tweeeeeeet!" we're off and I roll fairly easily from the start...sort of parade lapping the field into the race and easing up the tempo to try and get folks into some level of discomfort and see who is ready to giddy up. This worked and my team mate and today's race promoter Brian Hludzinski and I peeled off a few and got a big gap right away.
The players came to play fairly quickly and by lap 3 with Mitch Westall, Brian H, Denis Farell, Mike Hogan, Michael Robson, a Mafia racer who is a super nice guy yet whose name I am spacing on and yours truly. Well, I got what I wanted in a split and a dream scenario came to pass: my teamie Brian broke lose and laid wood and I merely had to sit in. That is, if I could stomach it while not feeling so hot this AM.
So we rolled lap after lap and places were swapped; Denis would lead, then me, then Robson. Mitch would attack, Hogan would come by and so on. An attack would go and I'd wheel suck to cover. Pretty standard issue. Robson was on a tear with the Mafioso and I was glued. Denis, Hogan Brian and Mitch were in eye shot. We crested the hill, Dubba screaming at me that they're tring up front! I'm thinking: shit, I'm tired too! And then, sweeping through the barriers and going for the remount...it happened: The ball squash.
Ed: Ladies and children, this is your time to bail on this post...you have been warned.
I teach in my clinics to STABILIZE the rear of the bike on uneven surfaces. Why? So you do not mis-mount. What do I do? Not stabilize the rear of course. The Dugasts rattled and bounced and as I am in mid flight, caused the seat to move just a wee bit the wrong way.
Skoplooooooooopsh. The right nut. I've been nutted.
At first the pain made me get sick in my gullet instantaneously. I was going to vomit. Nut-pain is like none other. For the ladies (if you made it this far), I suspect if someone took a baseball bat and schwapped your boob, you'd not take it kindly. Now wrap those things in a mass of nerves and veins and all kinds of pluming and then get it schwapped. Electric pain. Pain that coud force you to eject anything out of both ends upon impact. Eyes closed (while still riding mind you) I opened my skinsuit all the way down and jammed a whole arm down there to inspect and ensure Mr. Left's partner Mr. Right didn't get pushed up into....God knows where. I messed with my junk as the pain waves reached my feet and head...radiating simultaneously. Unsheathing my buried hand from the depths of the skinsuit, I saw Robson and Mafia man ride away. I'd have to re-start the engines and stay the course....pedaling initially like a duck until The Twins decided to feel comfortable. Alas, the nut-pain turned to into anger and I went in pursuit, never to get on the train. Only meters and seconds to the 6th wheel away but so be it. Top 10 in 7th so I can't complain.
Moral of the story: stabilize, children. Stabilize those rear ends.
I skipped the Buena Vista race today as it came to pass and have what seems like H1N1 in the house. I feel like a steam roller wiped me out. Frisco next week. I love the courses those folks build. Shite weather? Hope. Hup hup.