Clawing my way back into the land of the living.

Oh yeah, so I totally poached this photo from my teammate off of Facebook. It's cute.

So, I wrote up a long verbose race report for my coach, and I'd considered just copying and pasting it here, but who wants to read about my truly weak performance this weekend? Instead I prefer to publish the lighter moments at Kern, the thoughts that had me chuckling even as I struggled against getting dropped in 114 degree heat outside of nobody's favorite city, Bakersfield.

• To begin with, I rocked the TT. Let's just leave it at that.
  
• As I bonked, cracked, cramped, and limped my way up the hill climb I thought, "oh, so this is what dying feels like." As I was dying in the RR the next day I kept laughing to myself about how this is what dying feels like, I think I might have been a little delirious.
  
• A certain princess suggested that the reason I've failed to secure my cat 2 upgrade is because of my inability to avoid getting rookie marks if I so much as look at a bike.
  
• Thanks to Monica I will now ask myself "Marian, are you getting shot at?" whenever I have a bad race, and feel a little better about myself.
  
• Heather Pryor, the girl who totally kicked my ass all weekend, is afraid of mountain biking, so I teased her a lot during the road race until she dropped me. It was very fun. I had people tell me, "I'm following your line on the decents!" because I kept telling them how much I'd rather be up in Tahoe riding knobbie tires instead.
  
• SueNami spit chewed up watermelon on me as I lay in the dirt at the top of the hill climb. That made me laugh, I don't think anyone's ever spit chewed up watermelon on me before. It was awesome.
  
• It's totally worth 14 hours in a hot car to hang out with my teammates for a weekend.
  
• A girl I've been racing against a lot this spring told me on the start line of the road race, "We were talking about how there are two types of bike racers: the kind that sit in and wait for the finish and worry a lot about their results, and the kind who, results be damned, get up there and make stuff happen. You're the second type." So I'm kind of paraphrasing there, but you get the point. I'm stoked to be the second type, and some day I'll have the fitness to back up the crazy things I do.
  
• Hernando and Sabine insisted on buying me dinner both nights, I think it's because I told them that I slept in my car at collegiate nationals. A move that Michael classified as "totally unacceptable." Come on! What? :)

Okay, that's all I've got. I'm still exhausted, sunburned, and desperately in need of doing a load of laundry. I've somehow volunteered to organize the Tour de Nez century ride, that will take place on the day I'm racing Nevada City. Huh? How're you going to work that one, Mare? Sigh . . . time will tell.