I’m insane. Completely, bat-shit insane. I renewed my USCF Racing License.
Renewed. My. Racing. License.
What? I’m a 235# sack of crap. What use do I have with a racing license?
Incentive, maybe. I also sent in my Level 3 coaching license exam. I figure, if I’m going to coach, I probably need to get back out there in some form or other. Now that I’m not chasing upgrades and results, maybe it’ll be fun and spur me on to get into reasonable racing shape. I’m in as a 5 this time, no point in trying to kill myself by entering as a 3 or 4. And there’s absolutely no point in my racing Masters, that’s where all the really fast men are these days (some former teammates, I’m sure). At least I have the option of being pounded then dropped by two different groups of people, now. Maybe even two different groups at the same race. That’s a definite plus.
Anyway, I went to ask my bike-shop-owning buddy, Todd, if I could wear his shop kit (which I have), and got some encouragement there. Of course, this encouragement followed a look that said, “This guy is off his rocker. Maybe I should stay out of arm’s reach.” I’m sure there will be at least some discussion of my apparent sudden-onset retardation. He did say “yes,” I should mention. So, he’s not above the embarrassment of advertising on the lanterne rouge of every amateur race in the Southeast.
It’s a good incentive to train. I’m trying to figure out the whole coaching and training thing, so some experimentation on myself is an excellent idea. If I figure something out, then I’ll switch to the Eddy B-eating-doughnuts-and-yelling-from-the-car technique. (Hey, it’s tough to drive a straight line at low speed while hanging out a window cursing.) I’ll be posting progress reports regularly and (shudder) photos. You might want to avoid the Intarwebs for a couple of weeks.