I made it to my first cyclocross race of the year tonight (thanks Shawn!), and predictably was about 90 seconds late for the start, which is apparently also typical in Shawn's life. I know I should have been doing these all fall - not for fitness, not for racing, but just because they're about the most satisfying thing I can think of doing in 45 minutes. My mind is cleared, the primal racing instinct is exercised, and the scene is just right, as long as you like hoardes of ridiculously fit people wearing lycra in your social circle.
We jumped in at the start of second lap and battled away, Lonn Bate and I had some good too and fro on the last lap. I haven't ridden that hard in months, really I can't remember when. TransRockies maybe, but that's different. I've just been doing 6 hour rides all fall, and the intensity by necessity is... ohh... just a notch or two lower. We even had Keith Bayly in our sites for a while... but it wasn't to be. I'm glad I got to see Keith to pay him for the cycling vids I've lost - making amends seems to be the thing to do these days.
Dallas was cheering, Mical was racing, Ed was sporting a shiny new Kona, Cyrus was dressed formally for the occasion, and Chris McNeil was flying.
I commuted part way home with Cindy Koo, then we parted ways and I stopped by Jon's place to check in on the knee. He was out riding when I arrived (good sign), so I talked to Kelly for a while. I suspect it wasn't the first time that Jon was "going to be late coming home from the ride" - extra trails presenting themselves is a regular occurance I suspect. Once he got home we had some great soup, shared the day's stories, and learned that the knee wasn't doing too badly.
I've been having some interesting blast from the past conversations lately, and it's funny how much it helps put the current into perspective. A Tuesday night cyclocross race embodies a lot more about what's right in life than I'd casually give it credit for. Lesson learned hopefully.
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