Bein' Dumb

after taking an easy, comfortable lead at the cowbell, having a great time, crashing some, hanging on i-won-nationals-five-minutes-late-on-a-singlespeed rebecca's wheel, i flatted. no big deal, right? permit me to quote myself:
"whenever i get a flat i revert back to 12-year-old julia...i stomp my feet, act frustrated, and wait for someone to change it for me."

i tried not to do this. i tried to stay calm and think and get my shit fixed. but then it took forever. and then #2 passed. and then i freaked out a little. but eventually shit got fixed and i kept on riding. sigh. jillian made the excellent point that it wasn't a big-deal race and that i learned my lesson. yep.

the cowbell course was AWESOME so i still had fun even though i so stupidly let a win slip through my fingers. everyone from b-town was suffering...it was hot as bejeezus. donnie, st. marie, and the hobbit had decent finishes. on the rock garden tristan had the spectators saying "you can tell he rides in pisgah". baller.
no more races till july! fabulous. my father opining on something i'm sure
don't get chicked!
pinnett and tamer taking off
sick gnar descending skillz

thanks to dan bennett for the pics, as usual

Why Not?

Since Dan P.Ennis has already been planning his collegiate natz wardrobe for a month (hint: coon skin) I reckon I can initiate a little sh*t talking...
In the words of Buju Banton:

There's no life in the West
I know the East is the best, yes
All the propaganda dem spread
Tongues will hafta confess

Amen. If you're on the wrong side of the Rockies, feel the fear.

Post Script

in my previous post i forgot to mention...although it's been said before ad nauseum...

I LOVE MY BIKE.

i need to name my valiant steed, because she has earned herself a title. possibly with some kind of adendum like "the great" or "the magnificent" à la memorable royalty.

i knew my little specialized was a fantastic XC race bike. a finely-honed blade of speed and finesse. slicing through the competition like a steak knife through melting plugra (that one's for you, tasha).

but it turns out she's also a workhorse. giving nary a thought to discomfort or mechanicals, she trots effortlessly and tirelessly through hours of pisgah slop and dupont grit. when my weak spirit has given out, the epic has only just warmed up.

so why did i discard her yesterday for an '82 ross? klunkerz thursday night group ride.forthcoming: the black mountain challenge with new retro category. get out your bridgestone, it's gonna be good.
dan? is that you?


but the little epic will be back for more action at the cowbell this weekend. i hear the course is 45% grass. bring it.

post post script: if you do one road race this season, make sure it's the french broad cycling classic. please look at this course profile. it makes me smile. 40 miles, 6100 feet of climbing. mmm zesty.

Fat Tire Weeks

now that the twin storms of the breakup and the roommate have subsided, i'm left with a lot of free time to think about what the rest of the summer will bring.
mostly oramm.
checks against me:
-at the whitewater center last weekend i raced 19 miles and thought it would never end. ever.
-i'm young and inexperienced.
-i'm scared. so scared.
-i sound like a sophomore on prom night.
checks for me:
-i just rediscovered camelbacks. convenient hydration!
-i did two uber-long-for-me mtb rides this week sandwiched between the normal group rides/chill rides and felt fab.
-the road bike hasn't seen daylight in two weeks. is that a check? not really.
-i've been doing a lot of carb loading.

now i'm sitting in brighter day watching tasha make, no joke, three frozen white chocolate extra-shot mochas and a skinny iced caramel latte. for one girl.
also she and i made tabouleh with quinoa last night and it was fabulousity. and then i met ryan taylor and complimented him on his icycle and I9 idol domination.

sleepy time.