“Their race will be just as hard as mine,” I muttered to myself.
The Tall Southern Guy yells up the stairs, “What did you say?”
I don’t answer, but keep talking to myself as I gather my stuff: Cycling shorts, jersey, gloves, arm warmers (just in case), plus stuff to change into after the race — I bring shorts, t-shirt, and a sun-hat. My sometimes silent, sometimes not, monologue will continue right up to the end of the race. Another one of my tactics to get me through the task. Sometimes I pretend to be other riders…but more on that later.
But what I’m really asking myself is why in the hell did I think wearing a crazy pair of socks was a good idea? I wanted to back down.
Tall Southern Guy is now upstairs. “Just don’t wear them,” he says.
He doesn’t understand that I have to now. I put it in the blahg. Nothing like a self-fulfilled prophecy to start the weekend.
When I get to the race my socks are the least of my worries. It’s cold! Well, colder than it had been by about 30 degrees. Remember the shorts and sun-hat? Great! What I really need is a blanket and a thermos of hot coffee. Another Denver weather miscalculation, well, at least I have my arm warmers.
Oh, and it’s muddy, and blowing so hard Tall Southern Guy’s team tent blew over. So a fairly realistic cyclocross day seems to be in store, complete with beer and waffles too.
Tall Southern Guy suggests that if I start riding I might warm-up a bit. I give him the Evil Eye but start my warm up…without the socks. I thought I’d get a couple in under the radar. Plus, I didn’t want to get them dirty.
First warm-up lap: It’s muddy but not too bad, except for the huge run-up. “Well,” I say to myself, “It is what it is.” A team-mate yells hello. I turn and… what the heck?!
“Nice socks,” I say. What I’m really thinking is, “Geez isn’t it enough that you’re fast and can beat the pants (errrr socks) off me, do you have to wear special socks too?” I don’t say any of this though, because she’s nice and I like her. But still…I wear the socks!
I go back to the car and pull out the striped socks. No time like the present.
Second warm-up lap: I start another warm-up lap and someone yells, “Nice socks!” I look over to see if they’re being snide. Nope, it’s genuine enough.
Then another, and another, then a “Sweet Socks!” from a rider in a Giant kit. My confidence builds. I’m definitely conspicuous, which is a little uncomfortable, but the socks are working their magic. Even the Ref likes them; funny, he’s barely even said hello before.
The Race: Boulder Cross #2 at Interlocken. Women’s Open starts. There are 32 of us.
At various points on the course people cheer, “Go Socks!”
I had a great time.
The other socks rider had a fantastic finish. Another teammate finishes 5th. It looks like we all had a good day. Complete results here.
Here’s a few more pics until next weekend and Sock Series #4.
Now, what am I going to wear next weekend?