Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Vintage Joe Biker: An Open Letter To The Little Girls I Almost Puked In Front Of

(Joe Biker Note: Twice a year or so, I like to take a break from the blog to decompress, touch my monkey and that sort of thing.  If you're a newer reader, it's a chance to read something from the archives.  This originally posted October 2007.  Enjoy.)

...actually, here's the full title:

An Open Letter To:  The eight year old girls who came to watch youth soccer on Sunday at Loveland’s Miami View Park and ended up watching a grown man nearly blow chunks.

Dear ladies, I’m sorry you had to witness me crying for mama between bouts of the pukes.  It happened on the 2nd lap of the Masters 35+ cyclocross race.  You were innocently standing and cheering near the course, about 100 yards after the double barriers. I was desperately trying to ride my bike as fast as possible to stay in contact with the tail end of the race.  To put it in your terms, I was totally sucking and didn’t want to be a total loser.  You probably didn’t even notice me as you texted your friends.  Or, maybe you were using your cell phone camera to film your latest You Tube epic, “Barf On Bike."
To refresh your memory I was riding a pretty green, blue and white bike with a matching outfit.  I was in dead freaking last place, right behind the guy on the mountain bike.  For future reference, if you every get into bike racing and are riding a custom made lightweight cyclocross bike in a cyclocross bike race, you should always be in front of people on heavy mountain bikes.  Put it this way, if Barbie is driving down the freeway in her Jaguar, she should always be in front of her friend in the pick-up truck.
You see girls; I ate an egg burrito about two hours before the race.  I thought the hour and fifteen minute bike path ride to the park would’ve speeded digestion.  But, apparently there was a little eggy left in my belly that didn’t want to go down.  You know how your mommy tells you to wait a little bit after eating before you go swimming?  Yeah?  Well, it’s the same with bike racing.  Listen to your mom, or you’ll totally barf in front of strangers and embarrass yourself.
So, I hope I didn’t gross you out to the max by hacking, snarfing, wheezing, drooling and spitting in front of you.  Since we’ve spent the last six weeks buying a new house and moving, I am a little out of cyclocross shape, mistimed that burrito and probably shouldn’t have rode my bike 20 miles to the race.  Not to mention, riding in dead freaking last place doesn’t quite sit that well with me after staying in contact with those fast Kentucky guys the last two years.
So, little ladies, please know that I am grateful that you came over to cheer for the bike riders.  Your shouts of “go go go” were encouraging.  Thanks to you, I nearly caught that guy on the mountain bike on the last lap and kept some the 45+ guys behind me too. 
Most of all I’m soo glad that you found cyclocross racing more interesting than watching your sister’s soccer game.



Anonymous said...

My first CX race...and at 2:20 I came around the crash, and followed you until my move at 5:09. I'm thinking you hurled right after that.

Todd Shuey

Vacation Quest said...

Wow!! Great post. Thanks to share.