True grit.

Winners do it easy. They have support, the natural talent & the crowd cheering for them, slapping them on the back all the time. They get awards, trophies & prizes just about every time they throw a leg over a bike.
But me, I’m rolling through when people are packing up. When I look at results I always start at the bottom & work my way up. No one to cheer me on, or pass me a biddon. I have to lay my bike on the ground in the pits & rummage through my stuff when I need something doing. I get the dirt in my face & I cop all the ruts. I take the B line & have to walk the tricky bits when course is blocked with riders. I have to pick up after myself & pack it all away at the end of the day. I know every km of the drive back from Mt Beauty & Forrest after a long, long ride. I wash my bike, my gear, clean out the camping gear & vacuum the car so my wife can use the car the next morning. I know how much brake pads & cassettes cost , I know & how long it takes to fit them. My hands are always dirty. When I get caught in the rain, I have to ride home in the rain. In winter I ride at night because I have to do everything else during the day.

Mad cow disease.

Hit with a stomach lurgy after Bushy Park crit which I put down to the cow patties, I rode the porcelain bus for 4 days. Missed Westgate crits, cut short farewelling a MTB mate who’s off Stateside & dented my hopes to catch the World Superbikes @ Phillip Island that Sunday. Without Foxtel I got a mate to record the WSBK round which I haven’t watched yet.
Sunday, feeling better after a massive sleep-in I noticed a classic car show @ Flemington Racecourse which I caught that afternoon & it was a pearler. 1964 Merc 230SL, very nice & almost in budget too, maybe when there’s room for more toys.

Commuted in on the Langy, legs felt almost refreshed after the layoff.