Fuck my socks. Everytime I wear white socks in a race it fucking rains. It happened at Reston. It happened today. I very rarely wear matching socks, but every time I do I regret it. The socks are pretty much stained gray by now from a mixture of sweat, road grit, and brake dust sludge. Screw it. I'm not even going to bother doing laundry. Let 'em stain. That'll show them what I think about their stupid pristine whiteness. I've also not bothered with cleaning my bike or unpacking more than my cell phone and wallet from my race day vehicle. I have another race tomorrow and I'll sort through that jumbled mess before I head out once again. There was very little I actually did after my race and of that small list most were just poor decisions on my part. Eating a candy bar, a bag of gummy candy, and chasing it with half a liter of Dr. Pepper might sound delicious, but on an empty stomach after a race is a recipe for epic Halloween-type tummy aches. Check. Since I didn't know how to get out of town and my brain was fried after the race I also drove aimlessly through Hagerstown's bustling meth district, with it's tweeked out and mostly shirtless inhabitants. If anyone needs some meth, I now know close to a dozen people that would be more than happy to supply you and probably bite off one of your kidneys. Probably the smartest thing I did today after my race was sit down with some good friends and have a nice dinner at a local sushi joint. Albeit, I first showed up there sporting my road grit, brake dust sludge moustache and reeking like wet bike racer, but it was a good dinner nonetheless. Despite the great dinner, I unfortunately realized I let my stomach get the better of me when I ordered my meal and was reminded of this when the bill came. I'm going to go crash now, which is something I fortunately did not do during my race. G'night.
The Race:
-Rain delay
-Soaking wet course
-Lots of crashes
-Rain eventually let up
-Car drove onto course during last lap
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