This is the entry where I go on and on about mountain bike racing, even though I'm pretty sure most of you probably don't want all the boring details. Too bad, it's my journal. So, the race. I lived. It was really, really, really hard, but not as bad as last year. Here's how it went down. We had to get up at 6 freaking AM because the race started at 10am in Charlottesville. At the start I was one of six other women. After a gag-worthy start that took us down a fire road flanks by heaping mounds of (literally) steaming poo aka fertilizer, I rode strong and kicked ass all through the first section. I was in 3rd place until about the 7th mile and then I got to the major hill climbs. And more hill climbs. And more hill climbs. It boggles me right the fuck out that the laws of nature seem to be absurdly twisted in this place - magically all uphill, with very little downhill. Isn't the general idea of a hill that it goes up and then comes down? These just went up. Then up some more. Bastard hills.

Some of the climbs were in the woods, so they were slippery muddy, rooty, rocky hills. Others were part of the field sections (the race was at a farm) where they had mowed a trail through the fields. The field sections actually sucked worse than the wooded kind because the grass was still pretty long and it was really hard to ride - imagine riding through sand. Uphill.

Then, just as I was feeling like I was solidly in 3rd place, I got passed. Then I got passed again. Then I got passed AGAIN and that girl went into the early finish instead of continuing on to the trail (it split so the beginners could finish at the 8 mile mark). I thought she was quitting so I didn't push things. Unfortunately she just made a mistake, so she snuck back up on me and passed me. At this point I'm in last place and I don't even care anymore. All I care about is not dying.

My thought process throughout the race went like this:

- Hey, fourth place! I can live with that.
- Hey, third place! Excellent!
- Ooohkay, fourth place. Fine! Good, whatever!
- Erm, fifth place I mean.
- Gaaarrrrrrrrrrllggg
- Lascht... muscht mooove.
- Why not over? Is no over? Why? Why still moving?
- Move legs, moooove.
- why. not. over?

The course got really, really difficult, with more hills and the fresh new addition of wide, rocky creek crossings. Let's take a quick inventory here:

- Grossly sweaty? Check
- Crusted over with mud? Check
- Exausted beyond reason? Check?
- Wet feet? Totally the missing element!

For a while it was definitely mountain bike purgatory, but then after several days of leg-cramping fun, it finally ended and I felt like a champ for even attempting it, much less finishing. I found out later that the course was 17 1/2 miles, NOT 15 like they'd originally said. Bastards. We got McDonalds fries and Cokes on the way home, as that's the only proper post-race food.

I hope you're all having a great weekend, Monkeys! Drink lots of carby beer!

PS. As a final "fuck you" from my boss, she didn't come into the office on Friday, so there was no exit interview or goodbye or anything. Works for me!

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