Numero Uno

Have you seen theTV show called "My Name is Earl"? It's about a guy who leads a not so OK life, then gets hit by a car, and has a revelation, that he needs to go back and "re-right" all of the "wrongs" he did in his life. He makes a list of all the people, and bad things he has done to each, then each episode, he corrects a "wrong" in a hilarious way.

What does that have to do with me? Nothing. I just like the show, and oh, I got hit by a car as well, and I made a list. I have a memory like a wet paper bag, although I tell The Badger it's like a steel trap, exacting revenge whenever I see fit, especially on him.

Yesterday I got one of these: A gold medal for 1st place in competition. You see, when I was full of morphine, I made a list of things to be accomplished, like Earl did in his show. Milestones you could say. Regardless of what turned out from me vs. car, I would win, at least in my own mind. You see, I cycle the best, beacuse I am a winner!

So, I showed up at the 20th annual Team Mack cyclo-cross race yesterday. Not like in previous years, where I was barely post wheel-chair, on crutches, or on a cane, but SHOWED UP, as in ready to compete, kind of.

It was funny, everyone I saw asked in some polite fashion or another "are you going to ride today?" I answered that I was not only going to ride, but I was going to race. Most of their jaws partially dropped. I understand, believe me. I have not raced a cross race since 2003, pre- car vs. bike & 5 surgeries later.

The course had just had 2+ inches of rain dumped on it by Mother Nature. There was mud that would make a pig stick his nose up in the air. The kind of mud that you hear about in horror stories, you know, mud, grass mixed with mud, leaves & mud, alligators & mud, mud with piranahas, mud with turtles beating up piranahas, lumberjacks getting sucked in by mud. You get the picture. It was nasty.

I did the masters 30+ race, as it was early enough in the day, and G was doing her ususal volunteering at registration. She's a trooper for Team Mack & The Turtle. My "little brother" Ike was along for moral & mental support as well.

We took off: mud, mud, mud. Stopped the first lap about 15 times, just to clean the mud & grass from my front fork/brake, as I could no longer move. It seized me in place. Kept trekking on though. Hit the hill, and dismounts, lots of "running" with the bike, as it was not rideable. Kept moving. Three laps in, I went from 6th overall to 3rd, that was OK. My whole goal was to finish, intact, period. Finishing was a victory in itself, for me that is.

Kept hammering the best I could, and would up 1st place in the 30+ category and 3rd overall for the masters race. Ike ran with me by my side for the last half of the bell lap, through the mud & all, yelling for me to keep going! Team Mack swept the entire podium with 1st, 2nd & 3rd place overall. This is not suprising, as Team Mack wins more races per season than teams dream of in a lifetime. (Shameless plug for Team Mack)

Here's the award ceremony after. The Turtle is cold,wet & tired.

Uncle Gary, Me & Sharmin for a post victory shot!

Wet, tired & muddy. Can someone help me find some dry clothes?

I did so well, that even the beautifil Sharmin gave me a post victory hug & congratulations! Now, that is HUGE!