Paramount GP

The sprinter contemplates an honest question: Am I here on this earth soley to pound these peckerheads?

First race back in two months...Pressure if off for upgrading this season. All focus will be on next season to make Cat 2, and will be done...Oh yes my little kupcakes, it WILL be done. Field is decent size, 80 or so riders my guess. Usual hack n' crack crowd. Didn't see much of the race, as the sprinter was off the front in every break that went. This was on purpose, before you ask. I didn't feel like sitting in the field and waiting for the sprint. Just felt like hammering. No sitting, no drafting, no waiting for the dinner bell. I break from the gun, and three small, cherub-like creatures latch on.















First break is off, and my companions blow faster than a 12 year old reading the lingerie section of the Sear's catalogue. The Sprinter glances at the small flock of rabbits and wonders why they even came with him. Two seconds of glory? Your mommy or girlfriend was watching? I could just hear it now later at the Starbucks. "Didjaseeme? I was off the front hammering, then I just cramped up, it was really wierd."

I continue on solo and a group of seven or so bridges up:

Now The Sprinter is thinking we have a little more firepower, and we'll get rolling.

No.

Leave it to a Cat 3 to move to the side when it's his turn in the wind like we're in the final kilo of a Tour De France stage. So, once again, The Sprinter goes to the front to keep the pace up.

The group catches and now the Sprinter sits top ten for little while. The Sprinter soon gets bored. Off the front we go again: Notice the fervent fan on the right pointing; proving the attack must have been so violent and powerful in it's excecution that he became excited and overwhelmed with the Sprinter's furious pedal strokes.

A teenage boy wonder spinning his junior gear with all his might came with the sprinter down the finishing straight. The Sprinter waives him forward, he oblidges. Out of all the breaks the young kid haz the nutz to pull through; kudos to you, young Jedi. Note the size difference, I wonder if I am getting ANY draft at all:

Here's where it goes wrong. As the attack passes the start/finish line a $25 prime is announced for the next lap. So now the poor college kinds are hunting us down with all there might. The Sprinter goes for the prime, and smacks the right knee on the stem bolts. How on earth this happended, seeing as though it's never happened in the last two years is beyond the Sprinter's scope of knowledge. But it did happen, and it hurt. I keep pedaling but realize it still hurts. Not wanting to risk injury for season since it's already winding down, I do something I have NEVER done in a crit; I pull out. I don't feel like a quitter, because the long term is more important than the short right now, but still, it felt strange. The shame of it was I was having fun racing for the first time in a while, and wasn't feeling too bad.

Such is life.