Because it’s Bastille Day. I think I’ll drink some Bordeux tonight and toast those French bastards, they’re so French.
Here’s some other viewpoints of the weekend.
And a quick story, then I have to get back to work. Cramps are a big problem for me. I got through Sunday with minimal cramping. There was a gentlemanÂ I passed and passed me back and forth around the middle of the race. He was in front of me after I did my walk of shame up Metcalfe Road. I caught him on the back side walking. I asked him if he was ok, (cyclists know this is what you’re supposed to do, unless you’re an asshole) He said he was cramping bad. I had Endurolytes in my pouch. I pulled out two and told him to take one and split the other and put it on his tongue but don’t be mad at me ‘cuz they taste like ass. He did. I saw him later at a Powerstop. He said I saved his race. The cramps went right away and the next time I saw him was the finish line. Victory.