Six am. The morning after. Normally at this time I'm figuring out a way to either...
a) sneak out of some strange person's house before they wake up
b) perfect the water-to-oatmeal ratio so for once I won't have to eat a puddly bowl of goup or a smattering of microwave burnt grains
c) ship off a few Links to Canada or Brazil before my morning run (that's a lie...I don't work out)
This morning is different. In my email was a receipt for my entry into the 2008 Idaho City 100.
"Did I? Naaaah, I wouldn't be so stupid."
I am. Evidently in the late hours of the night I suffered a ginormous brain fart and paid $100 to ride 100 miles ($1 per mile??!! That's the equivalent of flying first class anywhere in the world) in what is sure to be a quagmire of mud and snow and blood come June. I haven't finished an off-road race since 1988 due to a fondness of going home in an ambulance.
Guess this will be my 20th anniversary of remembering why I don't do these sort of things. What's the saying? A fool and his money - and bike - are soon departed.
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