Life is weird, always has been, and despite wishing for some thing more benign I expect it to stay weird. Somewhere at some point in my life, I figured if I was good at something, then life would click into place, things would line up, life would be good. Well took me forever to find out I am pretty okay at racing bikes, not all types of racing, but long hard races. It seemed like a dream come true, I could not only race a bike self supported for days on end and not die, I am able to do well.
This summer I dedicated myself to racing, racing hard, fast and long. It turned out pretty good, I mean really good. Some strong results in some laps races I have never been good at. I won the CTR, again. But I am not satisfied, I am not happy. I am tired, sore and lonely. How can I have a successful racing season and be grumpy as hell about it? Perhaps it is I that is weird, perhaps thinking there would be more to it set me up for disappointment. Never thought success would leave me too broke to buy food, make me late on rent every month and leave me feeling weird, just weird.