Let's Play A Game Called I WIN ... Again
Sounds like rain.
Nahhhh, probably just palm trees in the wind, like last time.
hmmm.
Must just be the humdrum of the freeway. Yeah, the freeway.
Shit. Rain. This is gonna----ROCK!!! I duck out the room onto the wet pavement of the 2nd floor walkway. Throwing jabs left and right ... *jab*jab*duck*jab* ... Let's do this! I'm running around in my boxers talking to my race-partner ... getting jacked up.
You really have to get pumped to succeed. Accomplishment is a result, the road to success is a string of results chained together by determination and persistence. A lovely day in Florida, low 50's, rain. Time to step up Dude.
The rain stopped as we arrived at the course. It was getting cooler. The race starts. I'm so glad that it's the last race, but I can't show my excitement until after I clench the title.
The first lap is always tough. About 3 miles into it, you start to realize that you're dying and that it's only 1/6th complete. Fifteen more miles of cold hell. Suck it up pussy.
The course was brutal. Killer climbs, mud, rocks, the usual stuff most jerkoffs don't expect to see in Florida. They've never been on this course.
Second lap, about 1/3 of the way through, I need some help. I reach down and remind myself how powerful the human mind is. My mind tells me that I feel pain, and I convince my mind that I do not feel pain. The pain is gone.
My mind wants me to give up, I convince my mind that I need to intensify my efforts.
I am a surgeon. The bike is my scalpel. Countless hours of training and preparation have led this moment, I am operating. This is my race, my season, and no one can take it from me. Back to reality for a moment: I'm going just over 15 mph darting through the woods, weaving back and forth like it's nothing. No pain, no heavy breathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a lady standing on the side of the course. She's cheering me on. I smile, not sure of my recent volume, who cares, bitch, I'l beat you too. A few minutes later I pass a rider on the side of the trail. He's nursing a flat tire; I've been there. Sucks for you. Zip*Zoom*SeeYa!
With just under 3 miles left, I reach one of the toughest parts of the course. I crest a monster climb. As I weave around, I see my competition. He can't be more than 30 seconds back. I need to intensify my efforts.
We wrap back and forth a few times. I'm going to get in his head. "Yeah [buddy] let's finish this, let's hammer home for a strong finish dawg!!!" ... or some bullshit like that; it just flows from my mouth. It's encouraging right? I'm a good guy? Not so much, he now knows I'm over 30 seconds ahead, I'm un-winded enough to yell at him with a calm, loud, fully enunciated voice ... and there's little he can do to reclaim that in the next 2 miles. I put another minute over him. I'm a surgeon, my mind and words are my scalpel.
I cross the finish line and collapse. When do we eat!? It's still cold, worse now because I'm so sweaty. Steam is pouring out my jersey and off my head. Reminds me of my hockey days, but that's another story.
It's finally over, again. Hard work pays off sometimes; savor it. While others may congratulate you, the effort is for yourself. You did it, you earned it, you deserve it. YOU should enjoy it. Training starts again in two weeks.
-Dude
Nahhhh, probably just palm trees in the wind, like last time.
hmmm.
Must just be the humdrum of the freeway. Yeah, the freeway.
Shit. Rain. This is gonna----ROCK!!! I duck out the room onto the wet pavement of the 2nd floor walkway. Throwing jabs left and right ... *jab*jab*duck*jab* ... Let's do this! I'm running around in my boxers talking to my race-partner ... getting jacked up.
You really have to get pumped to succeed. Accomplishment is a result, the road to success is a string of results chained together by determination and persistence. A lovely day in Florida, low 50's, rain. Time to step up Dude.
The rain stopped as we arrived at the course. It was getting cooler. The race starts. I'm so glad that it's the last race, but I can't show my excitement until after I clench the title.
The first lap is always tough. About 3 miles into it, you start to realize that you're dying and that it's only 1/6th complete. Fifteen more miles of cold hell. Suck it up pussy.
The course was brutal. Killer climbs, mud, rocks, the usual stuff most jerkoffs don't expect to see in Florida. They've never been on this course.
Second lap, about 1/3 of the way through, I need some help. I reach down and remind myself how powerful the human mind is. My mind tells me that I feel pain, and I convince my mind that I do not feel pain. The pain is gone.
My mind wants me to give up, I convince my mind that I need to intensify my efforts.
I am a surgeon. The bike is my scalpel. Countless hours of training and preparation have led this moment, I am operating. This is my race, my season, and no one can take it from me. Back to reality for a moment: I'm going just over 15 mph darting through the woods, weaving back and forth like it's nothing. No pain, no heavy breathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a lady standing on the side of the course. She's cheering me on. I smile, not sure of my recent volume, who cares, bitch, I'l beat you too. A few minutes later I pass a rider on the side of the trail. He's nursing a flat tire; I've been there. Sucks for you. Zip*Zoom*SeeYa!
With just under 3 miles left, I reach one of the toughest parts of the course. I crest a monster climb. As I weave around, I see my competition. He can't be more than 30 seconds back. I need to intensify my efforts.
We wrap back and forth a few times. I'm going to get in his head. "Yeah [buddy] let's finish this, let's hammer home for a strong finish dawg!!!" ... or some bullshit like that; it just flows from my mouth. It's encouraging right? I'm a good guy? Not so much, he now knows I'm over 30 seconds ahead, I'm un-winded enough to yell at him with a calm, loud, fully enunciated voice ... and there's little he can do to reclaim that in the next 2 miles. I put another minute over him. I'm a surgeon, my mind and words are my scalpel.
I cross the finish line and collapse. When do we eat!? It's still cold, worse now because I'm so sweaty. Steam is pouring out my jersey and off my head. Reminds me of my hockey days, but that's another story.
It's finally over, again. Hard work pays off sometimes; savor it. While others may congratulate you, the effort is for yourself. You did it, you earned it, you deserve it. YOU should enjoy it. Training starts again in two weeks.
-Dude
posted by Epic Dude at
8:08 AM
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