Instead I start preparing for stuff a bit ahead of time. So, I am having an awesome Friday night packing mandatory gear for next weekend's hot mess of a race.
It was AWESOME. Forty-five minutes were spent picking through the basement looking for my knife with a three-inch blade (just in case I need to stab anything or anyone along the way). Happy hour? A late night out with friends? Turning into a drunk disaster?
Dumping all my gear into a pile was so much better than hanging out with friends. Except not. Vivian was kind enough to keep me company. Apparently he wants to do the race, too.
In addition to the basement looking like an REI barfed, my family room does, too. And like this it shall stay until Wednesday morning when I load up my junk and head out. To work. And then flee immediately afterward to Bill's summer digs about an hour from the race start.
Tomorrow will be just as exciting. It will include a trip to REI for some last-minute junk and, more importantly, to pick up my mountain bike. I thought it was done, gone forever. Things were pinging off of it on my last ride and my rear brake sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.Terrible.
I contemplated buying a new one but my friend David, who fixes bikes like it is his job (because it is) kindly agreed to see what he could do. He was, fortunately, able to magically paste it back together! Hooray! I must say that I am mildly disappointed because I was sort of looking forward to buying a new bike. Although I am thinking that when I go to pick my bike up tomorrow I might easily be talked into a new one ...