Decisions, decisions

This being hurt is no good for me. In my spare time I've been checking race calendars for more races to do this year. Kinda the opposite of what my current situation is dictating - if your not riding, your not going to be ready to race, and I'm not riding. Thanks for protecting my organs ribs, now could you ease up on the pain meter. Some flexibility would be nice too. Oh, and some sleep, yeah sleep would be good. Anybody who has broken ribs knows that sleeping as well as getting in and out of the bed are a sum-a-bitch with busted ribs. You can only sleep in one position all night and not move, that is unless you want to feel like your in between two Sumo wrestlers colliding?

So anyway, back to my plans of domination, or maybe we'll just call it destruction(and by destruction I don't mean the competition, but destruction of myself). So a couple friends asked me, are you going to do the Pisgah 111K? They sounded pretty excited. I said, "I almost thought you said 111K?" Figuring I heard them wrong; I mean who does 111K in Pisgah - the most unforgiving, rugged, technical, tough, side of the mountain, side of the cliff type of remote riding you can do? They said yeah 111K. At that moment I peed my pants a little. Not in excitement, but in fear.

I just know I'm going to get roped into this. Maybe "roped" is the wrong choice of words. Tempted. Yeah, that's it, tempted. My right brain is gonna trick, and pull the wool over the eyes of my left brain. I'll be signed up and committed before my left brain figures it out and says "oh shit, what did you get us into this time right brain?" Then the panic will set in. I'll picture myself with both legs cramped up, unable to move at the top of black mountain, screaming in pain. Unfortunately the screaming will wake up this big boy:

Alright, all kidding aside this race is for a great cause and should be fun - a twisted, demented, sick kinda fun, but fun nonetheless. The race is a memorial for local adventure racer Jeff Papenfus, and all proceeds will go to his widow. I like a good cause. The 11,000 feet or so of climbing might be tough, but I'm betting that the last descent down Black Mountain is gonna make a lot of eyeballs pop.

Black mountain by itself is a steep rugged trail down the side of a mountain. In the Pisgah 111K it'll be the last part of the race. I'm imaging struggling to focus, stand on the pedals, hold onto the bars, and do much else besides wanting to lie down and take a nice nap. I'll just have to keep chanting to myself "Honey Badger don't care, keep pedaling biatch"!