Monday, July 31, 2006

Salida, RR, some strange turns of speed?

with the TT not going as well as i had hopped i was prepared for a long day alone in the RR . but i would give it everything i had. the pervious week i had logged a long hard week of training. i felt good and i was now hopping for a good showing. of some kind. even the smallest would do. that morning was early. the race started at 8am! uhg... but after chocking downing some muesli and a few cups of coffee i was coming around. i drove down the vally back into town with increasing confidence. they were putting out cones already on the course and as i came into Salida proper i found myself a bit lost. i got off the phone with the lady and got my barings straight. “ahh I am just to far north. a few blocks that way and i'm all set!” salida is not big. its very small in fact. as i looked around, through some yards and down some streets for my location i was feeling even better. the legs good, plenty of time till the star- BAMB!! OH my... what the Fuc'jodiiuklnHo poqwjejedo;f ppwspjfpi

the sound of tearing medal, screeching tires, that flash of adrenalin, pumped through my body quickly followed by that terror of "ohh my good i just killed someone?!” I don't even remember my car stopping i just remember jumping out off it and running back to, thank god, another car and not a cyclist. i was traveling through one of the hundreds of 4 way intersections with out any stop signs while a small, 2 seater, MG that was the exact green as all the grass and tress around had left its house precisely at the right time to meet me in that intersection in a perfect T-bone “how’s your morning going” automobile equivalent chest bash. My wheels didn't even get touched. Perfect T-bone. His matchbox car was worse off than Silver (my cars name. named for "silver" the horse of the lone ranger). The shock was pretty severe. After the cops, fire truck, and ambulance left I put myself together drove back to the hotel to check out and was on my way home. I missed my start to the RR. I am not sure if I would have started anyway, but it was a moot point now. After about 30 minutes of driving I wished that I had calmed down enough to park at my hotel and go for a ride. The scenery and terrain there is unreal! 14,000 foot peaks around and tree line so close you could touch it.
I was pretty reflective on the way home. By the time I got home I was over it. Pissed yeah, but in the grand scheme of things its all really minor. I drowned my sorrows in a chilly dog with Lindsay. Then, that night we had some people over for dinner and I drowned my sorrows in some more liquid items.

In my quite 3 hr drive home I got to thinking. about all the "great athletes or public icons" that we know. why are they great? is it because they had a perfect season, perfect training and a flawless race. maybe but not really. most of the time there greatness came from what they had to overcome to achieve what they did. I am not saying i want to be "great or a public figure". i remember hearing a while back (i can't remember from whom) they said, "you are defined by how you overcome adversity." sounds good to me, until your faced with something you didn't plan for. Didn’t even think of or consider! moving out here has been tough. real tough for many reasons. the only thing we really have control over in life is how we react to adverse situations, how we deal with them.
so remember that the next time you start to crack in your big race. you get lost driving somewhere, or someone is out of the blue rude to you or your friends. anyone can be cool and look good when everything goes there way. but what happens when it all falls apart? what then. That’s when you'll find out what there really made off...

the good stuff is coming, any minute now. It coming…

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