Subject: nyc women's crit and bear mt road race i left early because i was afraid. i was very afraid. i was sure something horrible would happen to me in nyc. i'd get lost. my car would break and i would set upon by wolves. or something like that. i actually took off my roof rack because i have 2 friends (steve and mike) who had roof racks stolen in nyc. so i left at 8 am, allowing 5 hours for traffic, the un millenium summit, etc. (i'd been badmouthing the summit the night before. brad said, nothing was ever lost by bringing people together. i said, except my money. aimee agreed. brad said, i have some korean war history i'd like you to read.) along the way, i made sure to note the location of jeff's prom for betty. and i started out with no doubt--the only way to start a road trip, really. along the way i got out the bob's car cd, a fan-club-only cracker release. i have to say that the polka is pretty damn funny. it's like getting back to my roots or something. i had excellent directions, courtesy of IF/wheelworks teammates Dorothy Held and Amy Gregorich, and made to the start of the race in 4 hours. so there i was. it was noon. my race wasn't until 3:15, and i knew they were running late, having scheduled only 45 minutes for the cat 3s to go 25 miles. so i got a really good warm-up. katrina told me to ease off at one point so i wouldn't sweat out all the water i drank that morning. so i felt okay at the start, i mean i was warmed up but there was still the pain that's been in my legs for months now. autotrader, proctor and gamble, and charles schwab were all there. talk about intimidating (they're all pro teams). a 4-person break went off from the gun but the pack stayed together and i managed to hang in there. and we didn't get lapped by the break, which stayed away. i felt like i was dying. i was about to go off the back when katrina came by and said something encouraging... so i stood up and got back in the pack. with 5 laps to go, katrina asked me if i was ready to move up. i said, "i think so." stayed on her wheel until 1 lap to go, it got stolen. need to be more agressive. moved up alone, picked a bad line for the sprint. that was a bummer because i could have gone around the outside but instead chose the middle. i had to sit down several times and rolled across in 14th (out of 38). the prize list was pretty fat though so that was good for $80. yippee! after that it started to rain really hard. i was supposed to have dinner with my friend matt, who was an intern with me at cato. i hadn't seen him in 3 years, the last time being at a sangria party i think where we were all drunk and i ended up having to sit on him in the car so we could all get back home. brad was there too. ah, the memories. so i was trying to call matt, but no one in new york uses pay phones anymore. i tried several that didn't work, stopped for some that were gone, and finally found one that worked. i was parked illegally, i think maybe in harlem? in the pouring rain. he managed to direct me to a place near his house. started driving all the way across nyc. traffic sucked. i managed to change lanes though by spotting a car full of boys and giving them a big smile. got to west village, called him again, found his apt. parked in a garage. $13. we went out for bacon cheeseburgers. yummy. and matt told me about his girlfriend. boys in love are so damn adorable. and he's managed to find happiness with a liberal. =) left. let some people cross a street. they were happy, then pointed at my mass plates and laughed. drove up to monroe to meet the boys, who'd raced sunapee. dane and tom said it was the worst motel room they'd ever been in. i didn't think it was so bad, and neither did brad. i guess that doesn't say much about our childhoods. we watched sex and the city, then a documentary about a stripper named "summer" whose breasts looked like balloons. (tom slept through that one.) gotta love cable. i told them about seeing matt, described him as having sort of an iceman haircut. brad said: i find it amusing that top gun was such a formative thing for you. i said: wasn't it for everyone? (i have an inflatable f-14 hanging over my bed. does that make me weird?) i ended sharing a saggy full-sized bed with tom, with plenty of room for the holy spirit. his heart was making the bed move. i was wicked hungry next morning so dane accompanied me to a local convenience store in monroe, ny. dane said it was the scariest town he'd ever seen. i made some comment about being grumpy when i'm hungry, and dane said: "grumpy? grumpy is baseline for you." we drove to harriman state park for the race. the 4/5 race was full so brad and dane weren't allowed to race. so it was just me and tom suiting up. i got a great photo of tom looking over his shoulder with a pouty look and two number 69s on his back. brad and dane told me i had to race even though i didn't want to, for them. so i wore my $ sock for dane, and a hula dancer sock for brad. then i did 2 laps of the 5-lap race (one for each of them) before dropping out. my legs were so cooked that i was getting dropped at the very bottom of the climb, where there's a slight rise (this is the army course). ugh. tom dropped out because his derailleur broke, so after feeding my teammates we left. on the way down to the race dane found some child's tap shoes in my car. this seriously freaked me out. i guessed someone had gone in my car when it was in the parking garage in nyc. i was so disturbed that i wouldn't touch then. we ended up leaving them under the table at the monroe diner, where we went to lunch. after we left a guy came out and told us we left our shoes. we all pretended we didn't know what he was talking about. drove back to boston. dane drove part-way, it was like being trapped in an arcade game. i covered my eyes at one point, but we made it back in one piece and then he somehow convinced me to have a beer. ? i don't know how that happened. anyway that's the end. --- this story is dedicated to brad. he's been one of my two best friends ever since we were 16 (over 7 years ago). he got me into cycling, he's driven me to more races than i can count, he's cleaned my bike, he's pumped up my tires, he's snuck out late at night to spraypaint my name across the road at a stage race. those of you who race with him know how self-sacrificing he is. he's been there for me through numerous tearful midnight calls, driven me around when my car was broken... basically he's just the best. brad, i'm going to miss you a lot. good luck in the ass of africa.