exit17

By the time you read this, it may already be too late.

Amidst the chaos and insanity of moving, I’ve finally found some internet time.

Today is the Auburn road race. Usually, this race isn’t anything spectacular – a typical, rolling New England road race. Highlight by a punchy climb and the occasional opportunity to go a million miles an hour.

This year, however, it will probably be somewhat different.

The New Hampshire cycling scene has got a massive boner for Ted King and his impressive Giro performance (impressive=finishing in the middle+not careening over a cliff+getting some TV time). Everyone (including myself) is now name-dropping Ted King at local bars in an attempt to pick up chicks. This is largely backfiring, however, as most girls don’t know them and they all think we’re talking about our boyfriend.

Regardless. Now that Ted has finished a month of being Carlos Sastre’s bitch, and experienced suffering at the hands of DiLuca, he’s back in New England! Yay, Ted, you get to visit home for a bit, get some local rides in…and race against us?

Oh. Party foul.

But, really, this isn’t a problem for the blue-collar Cat 2s such as myself. Because here is RYAN KELLY’S AUBURN ROAD RACE 2K9 PREDICTION:

There is a certain number of super-fast people that must be present in order for my life to suck. If there is one…no problem. If there’s ten…then we’ve got an issue. Because I’m stealing internet from my neighbor right now, the lead paint that makes my apartment into a Superman x-ray vision safe house is limiting my connection speed to “tard slow”. Thus I cannot check the pre-reg list to further investigate the levels of fuckitude I will reach today.

According to twitter, I do know there are 18 McCormacks (they shipped some over from the old country), 27 Keoughs (cousins from Arizona stopped by) and one Herz (which equals 45 McCormac/Keoughs). Probably a Valliancourt?

Anyway. One super-fast person can’t do much. He’ll attack at a billion, a few people might try to go with him. It’ll be fast for a little while until he gets away. He’s gonna realize he can’t do an 80-mile ITT, so he’ll ramp it down from 11 to a more human 8, hangout with the mortals, and then smoke them at the finish.

Ten super-fast people can probably do some damage. Because enough of them can go one million miles an hour to drag the field around and start making life suck. Also, when one of them attacks, everyone in the field is going to think “Oh, shit, I can cover that,” and then Joe Shittycat2 is going to try to sit on Dylan McNicholas’ wheel for fifteen seconds and then scream out “OH SWEET JESUS YOU ARE COVERING ME IN THIRD-DEGREE BURNS FROM YOUR AFTERBURNER”.

So today, I’m thinking that everyone’s raging boner for Tedward King is going to make him the most marked man in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD. He’s gonna attack at like 8 (on a scale of 1-10, of course), and people are gonna go “oh shit that’s ted king i can cover that”.

Then Ted will look back at them, ramp it up to 15 (again on a scale of 1-10). Then the five people in the field (Robbie King, Dylan McNicholas, Ryan Fleming, Ol’ Angus McCormack and Uncle Carl Keough) will manage to dig deep enough to up it to 15 just long enough for a significant gap to form. Then Ted will turn it down to 10, while the rest of us get to battle for fifth place.

Or something like that. In all likelihood I’m completely wrong and nothing like this happens.

What do I know. I spent most of yesterday laying in bed after eating a bad tub of Hannaford potato salad.

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