Twofer Tuesday

The Boy's crooning is floating over
That twangy 80s deep, rumbling lilt and
Came stirring that months buried buzz
As my hands got darker and grittier.

Did you see her? Those eyes said a lot.
Out of the cavernous echos of shouts for help
I felt the heat as if burned by a brand
And wanted nothing else but more and more pain.

So I looked at the scar, and brushed at it
Tenderly, letting my fingers linger over the
Rough bumps and ridges, as of a mountain range
That's been laid bare by time and wind.

A burst of energy from millennia of drift
To reawaken the raw, nervous, jagged edges
And relight a fire deep within, rising up
To surround it and ingnite the glow.

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You know why people love me? Because of my rapid-fire non-sequitors:

I am a Cat 4 bicycle racer. So why do I keep getting "Cat 5 Tattoos"?? I am seriously the laughing stock of the team. After every single ride, my calves are covered with new grease stains, and no one fails to point it out.

Is my form that bad? Too much grease on my chain, or too dirty? I know I have big legs, but come on!"



I think I know what the problem is. Not coincidentally, I still RACE like a Cat 5.

So the solution is a Catch-22, loosely speaking: I need to race better and smarter, and when I finally do start getting results, maybe I will stop getting them. Or maybe I need to figure out how to stop getting them, and I will start racing smarter and getting results.

UPDATE:

Thanks, Jeff...I think you nailed it...not only is pro always looking your best in kit and wearing your sunglasses on the outside of your helmet straps...it's also clipping out the left leg first when stopping and in when starting . Even if you are left handed and prefer the other.

Mystery solved. Salt tossed. Cat swung. On to results.