the next morning the soles of my feet were ragged and my legs were leaden. i missed the early caravan rolling down to charlotte but refused to skip the short track race so i drove myself, aware of the patent absurdity of driving four hours to race forty minutes. sometimes i'm just selfish like that. because lord have mercy, i do love short track. it's the only kind of racing i get. at the start line all the charlotte ladies were aflutter to have a new face in their midst, and a couple of them helpfully explained the race format and pointed out the local favorites. i considered myself warned.
the course was so fun. after the start lap the twelve of us became three, then two. my favorite lap in short track is always the one where you're done playing around, you've figured out the other girls' weaknesses, and it's time for business. that's the kitten shittin' lap, when you look behind you and see faces contorted with pain and disbelief. i crossed the line and actually managed to raise both arms in a half-assed victory salute.
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| Braaaap |
of course, it was the first race of the season. i resolutely refuse to have off or on seasons, i just stay the same year round, so in february when i come back to charlotte i'll probably get my just desserts from women who have been doing their computrainer sessions. but while they head back to their suburban tract housing, my drive home consists of watching the sun set over the still-snowy mountains past the saluda gorge. so that's always kind of a win right there.
