A post vaguely about Gloucester

Meg Curry tweeted to me (“at replied to me”? “said to me on Twitter”? Yeah. Said to me on Twitter.) that someone in Gloucester asked her how Drew and I can talk for basically 20 hours over the course of a weekend (I would link to her tweet but I can’t find it). Or maybe she texted me? Maybe I dreamt it? If I dreamt it, I don’t want to get too introspective about what that means.

Anyway, I’m sure they (if they are actually real people) didn’t say “How is it possible that your friends Drew and Ryan have the stamina to speak for twenty hours over the course of a weekend?”, it was probably more along the lines of “MEG. WHO THE FUCK WERE THOSE ASSHOLES WHO WOULD NOT SHUT UP ALL WEEKEND??? GOOD GOD.”

Timothy Johnson also joined us on the microphone, but was talking more in the 2-3 hour per day range, the rest of the time he was getting Drew and I coffee (j/k, he didn’t even though I SPECIFICALLY told Paul that Tim needed to be our coffee runner), so I do not know if he was called out by the Gloucester locals.

Magical stamina or no, it’s talkin’ bout a bike race, which is pretty fun when it comes down to it. The real work is in walking around all friggin day, and by Sunday people may have seen me struggling to lift my legs over the course tape as every tendon in the bottom half of my body was as supple as beef jerky. I still do not understand how standing and moving around for ten hours can wreck my body like that. I used to work at a moving company, have worked in retail, and have even started running with some amount of focus this year, and I was still destroyed by the rocky, dusty hell-scape of Stage Fort Park (© ULTRApaully, 2017). But I am also 32 years old now, which means that maybe my body is going to start falling apart (yes, friends of mine who are older than I am, I know you want me to shut up).

I also wonder how Thom Parsons is able to move after this weekend, dude was running around WAY MORE than Drew and I were. And now, tonight, he’s at another race. Maybe he’s training to be an MMA fighter (KIMBO SLICE JOKE SORTA BABY #insidebloggingjoke)? Good way to go about it, honestly.

I think I have complained about this leg wreckage before. Also 2/3 of the posts on this site in the last 366 days have been about New England’s little slice of cyclocross glory. Maybe that will change, maybe that won’t, who fucking knows.

Maybe blogging isn’t dead, because looking at Twitter with any sort of regularity makes me want to tear my skin off and light something on fire, so yeah that’s a great platform for me to spend my time on. Real healthy.

What was I talking about?

Oh my legs felt like shit.

Anyway the racing was great, you can read about it anywhere, also the playlists are on Facebook if you came here looking for them. I don’t have a Facebook account so every time I go to that website it blasts me with reminders to sign up and give them my information so they can sell it to advertisers. BUT TOO BAD FACEBOOK, I ALREADY GIVE MY INFORMATION TO OTHER ADVERTISING NETWORKS! But yeah the playlists are on there, they are good, I spent way too much time on them.

So here are some things that I thoroughly enjoyed from where I was standing at the Craft GP Glocuester brought to you by Ipswich Ale (Swing by the Craft tent on your way to the beer tent, you can get base layers, jerseys, and vests for only $20! Jackets, bib shorts and tights are just $40!).

  1. We were pretty good about reminding people who were pre-riding to be respectful and aware of people who were still finishing, and for the most part that appeared to be respected. HOWEVER, one day I just want to tell all of the beginner racers to get out there and aggressively ride the course and chop the shit out of other categories who are finishing up and who may have wronged them in the past. So, there you go, my sick fantasy.
  2. Drew got to use his favorite simile – “His face looks like an old catchers mitt” –and I was very happy for him.
  3. The beer tent was being quiet so I told them that I have had poops that were louder than them. It was like 3:30 p.m. on Sunday, so I will chalk that one up to general hypoxia due to the amount of dust in my lungs and…well, honestly, no more excuses – I just saw a way to make a poop joke so I went for it.

I fucking love announcing this race and seeing all of my friends and looking at the ocean and drinking coffee and destroying my body while running around and talking about bike racing and playing music and answering questions that spectators have and randomly interviewing people I am standing next to.

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