Halloween Bubba-licious

Last week was Bubba #4, The Sprints of Darkness.

It was Halloween night. There would be costumes and mayhem.

It would be fantastic!

Because of all the rain in the week leading up to the race, the course was the muddiest of the season thus far.

The very thought of that made me giddy like a six year old on Christmas morning.

Kate, Cristel, and myself had decided to dress as Hooters girls, a separate idea of Kate's and Karen's (who had to miss the race due to being out of town).

We were like giggly school girls as we planned the irony of us tiny-titted ladies in the boob-friendly costumes.

Soooo, as the rain poured down that week, I got more and more excited about the race.

I was damn near beside myself as we pulled up.

My race at this venue last year did not go so spectacularly as it was effing cold, and my rear wheel feel off after descending the Green Monster and taking a sharp turn. (Honestly, it would have sucked for me without the wheel falling off since I had not yet embraced racing in 38 degree weather.)

This year was almost hot and steamy at 39 degrees.

39 degrees. Hooters uniform. HUGE blond wig. Lotsa mud.

*has mental 'crossgasm and continues*

My initial intent had been to simply have a blast with the girls and ham up the costumes...and finish the race.

Then I pre-rode the course.

Well HELLLLLLO!

Even going slow I had mud in my ginormous blond wig.

As I bonded with Christian, I could feel my confidence grow as my Fangos glided over the mud and I mentally prepared my game.

This would be no ordinary race for Cory.

You could not have smacked that smile off my face.

As we lined up at the start, I was relaxed and playful.

No stress. No anxiety.

(No, I did not do a bong water shot before the race.)

I was just completely zen.

The race went off and I worked my plan and held my pace.

Then we hit the chicane.

All mud and 180 degree turns, including one around a concrete light post.

(Good times!)

I would cringe at the light post imagining boys wiping out and hitting it. OUCH!

(Sorry, sometimes the gents tend to "overshoot" things a bit.)

*snicker*

Because I was at this point hanging with the boys, I didn't want them to wipe out. There was not enough space to get around them and I would have to barrier them if they wiped out and I think that may be frowned upon...but I'd have to ask an official...

*makes note for future clarification*

The barriers were a no-brainer in this race. 3 railroad ties after a muddy descent.

MMMMMM...I love me some muddy descent running dismounts!

Because it was a short course, it slopped up pretty quickly.

As the race went on (and the course conditions deteriorated), I was able to catch some people and advance.

This gave me what I had always heard about but considered a myth...an exercise high.

Something clicked.

The course became a dance.

On the sharp turns, I took the lines less chosen.

On the straights, I rode the less traveled grass unless drafting off a boy.

Cristel (MO State Road champion, time trial stud, and fellow "Hooter-crosser") and I stayed together most of the race.

As we finished this one particular lap, the lap counter read "3".

That "should" have meant we had 3 laps to go.

Cristel and I talked through the next lap, mentally preparing for 2 more laps to go.

However, when we came through again, the lap sign said "6".

WTF?!?!

I was confused and mind fucked for about 6 seconds and then decided to ride the lap and see what it said next time.

"5".

*sigh*

OK. It is what it is. That fucking sucked, but it is what it is.

I clicked the mind on again. (SOOOOO glad I found that button!)

I settled into my pace and advanced again in the muddy chicane.

Cristel was still with me...and then we hit the barriers.

I cleared them and as I remounted I heard Cristel behind me yell something about "losing her shorts".

I looked back and see the familiar orange and assume she is joking.

(She does that from time to time. The girl is silly!)

I hit the pavement and recover and speed up.

Then the hairpin back into the off-camber mud...

I add a couple gears and dig in.

I catch up to some men and settle back into a nice pace.

Literally every revolution of the pedals is a dance step.

Every shift of the gears calculated.

As I go through I see the sign.

1 lap to go.

as I make my turn off the first stretch of pavement onto the grass, I feel my gears slip.

"NO! Not now, dammit!"

(I think I actually said this out loud.)

I added a gear and it held.

I knew I could not drop back down.

As I exit the chicane and approach the muddy hill, the guy I am behind gets stuck in the mud and stops short on the climb.

I have *just* enough space to go right without wrecking him.

*wipes brow*

That was effing close. Wrecking in the last lap would suck super bad!

As I clear the barriers and hit the pavement again, I feel my body dance.

The hardest part of the course is behind me.

I am home free.

As I take my last muddy turn and climb, I see the dark pavement of the final stretch inches ahead of me and I am pure magic.

I add my gears and sprint it out.

The white of my Hooters uniform is splattered with mud and my legs are coated.

FUCK YEAH!

Suddenly all the hell...the surgeries, the recovery, the pain, the frustration, the suckage...is gone and I am pure disco ball and magic from the inside out.

I'm not the "girl next door" of the Hooters image...I am way dirtier...and that's pretty spectacular.

The Birthday Gift

I kissed her cheeks and eyelids and tickled her out of her sleep.

She jumped out of bed and and into my arms.

We hopped/skipped into the kitchen as her long hair danced and tickled my nose.

We quietly took the ingredients out of the cabinets and refrigerator as to not awake Ty.

We carefully mixed the batter and baked the birthday cupcakes while she played with her new present and I cleaned.

We were having a spectacular birthday weekend and this was Day 2.

We had had a fantastic day before with Jessi at Boo at the Zoo and some yummy take out and movies...and swimming...but we were ready for more!

I had decided not to race my 'cross race since we did not squeeze everything that we wanted to do into Saturday.

We would finish today.

However, I was afforded an hour and a half to go ride.

(Hey, I did a lot of work at 5:15pm on October 25, 2002 and should be rewarded too!)

*giggle*

Steph was meeting me at my house and we were going on a lovely hill ride.

The Marquette Hammer-drop alternate route to be exact.

I frosted and sprinkled each cupcake as The Sass jumped up and down watching the sprinkles fall like snow on what would surely taste like a vanilla cloud on her tongue.

Steph arrived just in time.

I snatched a piece of sugary goodness and let the cake melt in my mouth and dashed out the door.

(Hey, I needed calories before my ride!)

As we rolled out of the driveway, I felt the smile creep across my face.

It had been a rough week, but thus far an awesome weekend.

My littlest was chirping about in the house as she and Ty played with her new treasures and tried to keep the puppy away from the cupcakes.

I had the taste of yummy vanilla cupcake still on my tongue as we made our way to Valley Road and took in the changing colors of the leaves.

Traffic was non-existent, so we were able to ride side by side and catch up.

I felt all my stress and sadness melt away as I breathed in the smell of Autumn and let the sun hit my face a little more than usual.

Riding with Steph is always like this.

We push each other, but feel somehow relaxed the entire time.

I felt like a little kid.

We climbed the hills and laughed at our skills.

We talked about the changes we've seen over the past year in each other's abilities and poked some fun at the newbs that we once were...especially regarding hills.

I worked on a new stroke for the flats and mentally recorded the results to report back.

We worked at a nice pace and kept the heat on.

I'm pretty sure I worked more on the ride than I did giving birth to The Sass (though not Ty) and I was once again excited to get home to carry on the birthday festivities.

As we approached the fast and fantastic descent on Strecker to Clayton (we modified the route a bit), I could feel my excitement grow.

Not only because we were close to home, but because for that descent and the following climb, I would be a little kid...

A little kid out playing with one of her favorite friends.

I needed more rides like this.

We climbed up Clayton and rolled back into my driveway.

We talked about upcoming events and the holidays and decide that we are giving each other the gift of time this year...and board game nights.

We discussed our teams for the next year (we are both staying with our current teams) and laughed.

"It doesn't matter what kit we wear, Cor. We both know we're on the same team."

Yeah. I do know that...and that makes my heart smile.

We walked in and the smell of fresh cupcakes was still in the air.

We played with the dog and made plans for lunch with The Sass and Jessi.

Later, as I sat on the patio with all of them eating our girly lunch, I felt peaceful and content...and a little excited about what was up ahead.

That was a pretty spectacular gift...at the absolute perfect time.

The Flowers Have Died

Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
Pull your head out of your ass,
and get a dogdammed clue.

You close your eyes.
You shake your head.
You walk the walk,
but inside, you're dead.

Everyday I search
for some sign of life;
your eyes reflect back
your internal strife.

When people are looking
you turn on your smile;
but your eyes have not danced
in the light for a while.

I simply cannot reach you.
No matter how I try.
You've gone far away
and I do not know why.

Somehow you've made
every moment about you.
You have no argument;
You know it's true.

There are beautiful things
going on in this world;
but I cannot save you.
I'm merely a girl.

I truly love you;
this you should know.
But I love me more,
so I really must go.

There once was a time
when you took my breath away.
That memory is not enough
to make me stay.

The tears have fallen
as you've turned your head.
The missing things
need not be said.

I love you now
as I loved you then.
I wish you well,
until we meet again.

Night of the Puking Bubba

The Bubba psychocross series started this past weekend.

(YES!)

Some kids wait all year for Santa...this kid waits all year for Bubba.

Everything I did on the bike all year was just to stay/get in shape for Bubba.

Bubba is like my Buddha, so regardless of having the flu on top of my other crap (a few thousand adorable stitches and no effing core to speak of) for the past 2 weeks...and regardless of the fact that I have been mostly off the bike for 2 weeks...

I signed right the hell up for Bubba #1...a psychocross race at night.

I didn't even blink.

That being said, at the Start, I was sort of out of sorts.

I was cold.

I was coughing.

My nose was stuffed.

Still.

This would be "fun".

I raced a few laps.

There was a LOT of running in this race.

OK, just so you know, I am not a runner.

I'm pretty much against running unless I am being chased by a madman with a knife or Freddy Krueger...

As I have been chased by neither, I see no reason for me to run.

Ever.

This race had the most running I have done in a good 25+ years....combined.

It made my boobies hurt.

*NOTE: I do not have big or actual boobies so if they jiggle when I sneeze, it's generally considered a "good day".

This was painful.

So the third time up that hill after the run-up/descent, I damn near collapsed and started puking water/Hammer.

Jay appeared out of no where!

Kube sang, "Wind Beneath My Wings" at me while I cried and puked and Jay said really nice things to make me breathe...

Once I saw Kube, I knew that "That One Girl" was coming...

I got mad that "That One Girl" was about to pass me and once she did, I'm pretty sure I growled, though you'd have to ask Jay.

I know I cried harder and said, "She. Is. Not. Beating. Me."

...and then took off and attacked...

...and picked her off...

...and then some other girl...

...and then caught up to where I wanted to be...with Kube.

I raced another lap after that and it was almost "lights out" for ol' Cory.

The world spun.

I dropped to my knees and puked some more.

I scared the crap out of some dude with a cowbell and he tried to help as I grabbed the Earth and lost my water and Hammer gel while looking very specifically "not pretty".

I got a Kleenex hand-up from a sweet older lady and then Jay came and led me away.

I sobbed like a baby.

I knew that he wanted to take it away for me...and not just because boys hate seeing girls cry.

I'm so effing tired of being sick that I want to smack someone...and I'm not sure if it matters whom.

Someone paLEEEEEZE hand me a politician...or L.A....

I got up the next morning in the biggest funk I have seen in some time and wasn't sure if I was going to race or just lay in bed all day and cry.

(Holy shit!)

Thank dog Allison texted me that she was racing that day and asked if I had a spare GU.

I didn't, but told her I had some extra Hammer.

...and that is how I talked myself into at least going to the race.

I cried the whole way there.

Not sobs, but tears.

I took some baby steps.

Jay checked out registration and called me to tell me the line was short.

I got dressed.

I registered.

I pre-rode the course with Jay telling me my race strategy.

I started to relax.

I started the race.

I didn't go out as hot as usually do.

I was sort of in a Theraflu stupor and just grabbed a wheel.

It's all I had for a few moments until we went through what would eventually be the finish and I started to climb.

I started remembering my skills.

I got my head together on the pavement and remembered all that Jay had said when we pre-rode.

He didn't run the course this day, so I had to remember everything he said.

(Dude! That boy can talk! He says a LOT of stuff!)

Days like this made it difficult to ride AND remember...

Jeeeeeeeze.

I held it together.

I held my pace.

For whatever reason, on this day, I was brain dead at the barriers.

I even did something on one lap that cannot be easily described.

I almost slapped myself for doing it and I know I started chastising myself out loud...

(Are you fast-forwarding in your head to like 30 years from now when I am pushing a shopping cart and talking to my 27 imaginary cats too?)

With 3 laps to go, something snapped...in a good way.

I started picking up the pace a little bit and screwing with boys on the climbs.

(I don't know why this is fun to me, but one boy in particular did NOT like it one little bit.)

I mean, it's not like I would ride by and kick them or slap their asses...I would just climb past them.

The one boy made a point of immediately bombing down past me on a descent whilst making a snarky comment.

(Ya didn't really think the course through in your head before you did that, did ya, wise ass? I'd like to stay and chat, but we have this climb and this is where I have to drop ya. My baaaaaaaad...)

*rolling eyes*

It was only the second time in all my 'cross races that a guy has been a dick to me, but the first time was a body-check at Spanish Lake last year and that actually pissed me off...and hurt. This was just silly/funny.

Anyhoo...

I sort of have to thank the tool.

I started to get that playful spirit back in me and actually began having fun.

I blew kisses to my "fans" and actually smiled the last 2 times through the barriers.

I finished between Gina and Kate and that's pretty much a perfect race day for me since they are both actually badass and kick my ass regularly on the road.

As we lay in bed last night, Jay told me how fun it was to watch me actually race again.

I knew what he meant.

...and he looked actually proud of and happy for me.

...and it was the latter that made me smile.

Magical Misplacement

I wish you heard me.

I wish I could tell you all the things that I want to tell you...

...but you don't hear me.

I'm not really here.

Sometimes I say them and then catch myself...

...catch you...

...not hearing me, but simply awaiting your turn to speak.

Even when you speak to me about me it's as if we've never met.

As if you've never heard me.

Ever.

You used to know things which you have now forgotten.

Somehow you've misplaced them.

Misplaced me.

I'm dusty now.

I creak when you move me.

I roll along next to you.

Allow you steer.

This seems important to you.

My sigh is lost as I turn my head to look behind for the me that was forgotten and feel a familiar tingling of excitement when I realize "that me" is still there.

I turn toward you and look at you with everything hovering on the tip of my tongue...

My eyes dancing with magic...willing you to see it...

I breathe it in deeply and close my eyes savoring the taste in my mouth before I share it with you...

I inhale...

Reentering the World

I got on my beautiful 'cross bike last night.

In the rain.

In the mud and wet grass.

Jay and I ran the barriers and up the hills as the slushy grass squished beneath our feet.

As I felt the cold muddy water dripping down my bumcrack, I was transported to a magical world where I could breathe like a normal human.

I worked my turns and off-cambers and ran the stairs.

I was soaked and cold and dirty.

You couldn't have wiped that smile off my face with a Mack truck.

Tomorrow...I will reenter my world...in the dark.

There will be cowbells and angels singing.

Feel the Load....CONTROL the Load!

"Yeah!

You feel that?

Feels good, doesn't it?

Yeah!

Just reach down and control it.

You control the load...

Yeah...

Ahhhh....

Own that load...

Not breathing hard enough...

Tweak that load...

Stand up and grind a little bit...

Yeah.

Mmmmmm....

That's right.

You control it...

*she slowly exhales*

Yeah. That's good.

Hold that.

Hold it a few more seconds...

Yeah...

Oooooooh....that was good...

Now ride it out!"

It being my first time, I look over at Allison to see how she feels about this...

Her face is calm and concentrating.

She's in the zone....

...Apparently, she is not mentally 12 years old like I have become as soon as our spin instructor started groaning and sighing about feeling and controlling "the load".

Clearly, I need more music and less talk in my spin class.

I found myself being distracted by how many times she said "load" and kept wondering what Jay would be doing if he was in the class to hear this too.

Once I had THAT image in my head, I started laughing when I was supposed to be serious and had to sort of bury my face in a TT position so that I didn't get busted...or kicked out.

...but I think she was on to me.

All in all, a really entertaining spin class.

...especially if you are prone toward semi-juvenile behavior, like myself.