Buried in packing all weekend, and staring at the sky all weekend to figure out when i could nut up or shut up.   Between the rain and the cold and the full-face and the armor, I was ensconsed in a body-condom, and continued sweating for several minutes after the sky opened up and puked on Kila and I sprinting home through a lightning storm.

I hit it 5 times.   The first time the expression on my face surely looked like this:   .   the next few times got easier, even when i tired and bailed out cause i didn’t have enough speed, even when my form went to shit: I now knew i could hit it, and there was nothing but myowndamnself to fuck it up.   The rest was easy…just ride.

A good day of progress, reps and all. This is nothing big, absolutely nothing, by many standards, and many friends could knock this out on a cross bike wearing tennis shoes.   I could not fathom it in 2004 when I first saw it done, I could not fathom it last year, I could barely fathom it til last month.   but I’m psyched, nuttin’ wrong with that.

a little vid of our day