Sunday morning time trial fun... or something...

5:15 wake-up. What my wife and I call CFD- Crack of Freakin' (or something) Dawn. Roll out of bed sound asleep with sleepy, tired feeling legs. Make a cup of coffee and eat a banana. Slip into long sleeve skinsuit and grab goober helmet, shoes and shoe covers and head for the door. Too dark to ride down to the course and need to get there early to get name on list for standby registration. Crank up the tunes in the car to get the fast twitch muscles eager to go. Find bitchin' parking space where nobody can park behind me and I can get in and out of the back of the car easily. Walk to registration- nobody in waiting line. Yes!

Excuse me, where is the list for standby registration?

Sorry, there isn't one. Since this is a championship event for so many categories, it's completely sold out. No same day registration for this one.

But the website said that anybody who didn't sign-in before 6:45 would have their race number sold. I saw that the website also said no race day entries, but I figured that since the site also said numbers would be resold, then you were resellnig numbers?

Oh. Well, we actually oversold the race so if there are any no-shows, we're just going to run fewer racers. Sorry.

Slink back to car. Back out of bitchin' parking space and turn music down. Drive back home and make another cup of coffee, since I'm already awake. No point intrying to go back to sleep now. Get out of skinsuit and put aero helmet, shoes and shoe covers back in bedroom. Close door to bedroom and let wife keep sleeping. The kids will be up soon, so maybe I'll take them to breakfast instead and have a 40 pound omellette, stuffed with bacon, sausage, cheese and smothered in hollandaise sauce. I can hear my arteries hardening already.

Dammit!

I knew there was a chance this would happen, but I went along thinking I stood a chance of getting into the race anyway. I mean, they always end up reselling race numbers due to no-shows. It seemed totally likely and the website had ambiguous language that lead me to believe they were still going to sell numbers. Argh!

It isn't like the legs felt super or anything, but yesterday they did have that pumped up, skin real tight, ready-to-go feeling. I worked on the bike last night to get the shifting and braking better. I was up way too late working on it though, so I didn't get out of the shower (had to put a fresh shave on the legs after all) until around 11:30. So I really only had about 5 hours of sleep and I was really sleepy when I woke up, but as I was walking to registration my legs were feeling really good and strong. I'm not saying I would have kicked ass or anything, but my legs felt like I could have been much more competitive than I was in the last TT (where I was 9th).

Now I get to do chores instead. Granted I do get to spend a few more hours with my family before I leave for Canada this Wednesday. That's a good thing, but I was actually hoping to be able to go to Canada and be able to talk about recent race results to maintain credibility. Oh well, I just hope my bike doesn't get lost on the way to Montreal, since I am planning to ride while I am there.

Argh!

Tim

PS; As I was about to publish this post, two things suddenly struck me.
1) Today is September 11th. It's now 4 years since the Tower bombings and we are still fighting a war and young men and women in our military are still dying (or are afraid of dying) in Iraq. Our receptionist at Haro is married to a Marine who is in Iraq. In fact, he's been in Iraq for longer than they were married before he left. I don't politicize this blog- not the intention of it-but I keep seeing gas prices going up and up and the war is looking a lot like a quagmire. I fully support all of our troops and wish them safety and a speedy return. They are heroes. They do deserve our support and gratitude. To all the brave souls in Iraq- thank you.
2) Today is also one year to the day since I was struck by a car in a hit and run and left for dead. I am obviously doing a lot better now and am very grateful to be alive and able to whine about not getting into a race. Left for dead, but I still got to come home to my family. I get to hug my wife and kids. I have a job I love. I get to be alive. Every time I read of another cyclist being struck by a car and killed, a chill runs down my screwed up spine. I have scars on my neck, face, hands and legs and my back and neck are still a mess. But I'm alive. Lucky to be alive. My daughter just came out of her room a minute ago, with sleepy four year old eyes and messed up curly hair, and put her head in my lap and said "I love you Daddy". I have to admit, I got teary-eyed.

Life is a precious thing; enjoy yours.