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Track Happens

Last weekend, as with every weekend for the past two or so months, I got in my car and drove down to Boulder, CO to ride their indoor velodrome. If you don't know what it is, go to now and see it. With your eyes. I woke up at 7:30 in the morning so we could be on our way at about 8ish to be in time for noon riding. It was a relatively uneventful three-hour slog to the Boulder from Steamboat, but it gave me a good chance to listen to Magellan by The Disco Biscuits, which is a song that is 33 minutes and 26 seconds long. It's good though, so it doesn't get boring halfway through, even though halfway through is still longer than most songs that aren't techno, and it's not techno. It's real music.
This is the velodrome.

Anyway, we got to Boulder around 11, so we went to Noodles & Co. For noodles. Obviously. Then after the noodles, we headed to velodrome for a couple hours of joyous velodrome riding! The first hour was by far the best, with a good group of people who knew what they were doing, so we could get a good paceline going that would slowly increase in speed until the one fastest and strongest person ripped everyone else's legs off with the pace they were inevitably keeping. Not to brag, but a lot of times it was me. Also, I set a new track record for people under the age of 19 at 8.141 seconds. I was excited. I texted a friend of mine in Boulder to deliver the good news, but she didn't seem to excited. I was sad.
The second hour was really not too terribly fun. All the skilled people but me left to go have lives and be social and stuff, and i was left with a couple douche-bags and an old Italian guy. The Italian guy was actually a pretty good rider, he just wasn't too terribly fast. His accent was awesome too. I'm not bashing on Italian people; they're pretty much cooler than Americans in every possible respect. One guy was probably morally against riding in a paceline or something because he just wouldn't. Ever. Then I decided to try to beat my previous record on the track, but I failed because my wind-up was interrupted by him and his annoying-ness and inability to vary from his line ever. EVER!! So I was unable to beat my record at that time.
After that, I got a smoothie.
Then at sevenish, I arrived back at the velodrome to do another hour of riding in the advanced class. I was the only one to show up. In fact, the coach didn't even show up. Instead, he emailed a list of things for me to do for an hour, and I did them. It wasn't too terribly fun since i was all alone.
After that semi-failed ride, I drove around for an hour and a half looking for some ice cream. Eventually I happened upon the Haggen-Dasz store. It was delicious. Then I drove back to my hotel and went to bed.
The next day was even better. After a breakfast at ihop, I went to the track to do another couple hours of riding. The first hour was similar to the second hour of the first day, in that it was unorganized and no one would paceline so it was pretty much useless, but I was somehow able to set yet another record for me on the track at 8.015 seconds! Don't believe me? Check it:
Yey! I'm fast!

I was excited, as you can understand. And rightly so, because I was now the second fastest person on the track!

One of these days, Kevin, I will beat you.

So that was all good and great, and then, since I'm just that cool, I went and rode with the women's advanced class. It's fun, and a workout sometimes! Plus, I have the pink gloves, so I fit in.
Later that day, around threeish, was my last riding session of the day, and it was just the advanced class. So I showed up and there were two old guys and the coach and me in the class. Stuff happened, and it was boring.
BUT THEN! We started to do this drill where we go and lap the field. I was doing it at full 110% pace and I came around a corner and there was someone in the sprinters lane. We'll call him Old Guy 1. There was also a guy up at the rail, and we'll call him Old Guy 2. So I figure I'll go right in between them and continue my effort to catch the main group, which was somewhere in front of them. So I powered up track, and was about to pass in between them when Old Guy 2 decided to drop down to the sprinters lane to get on the wheel of Old Guy 1. I was in between them at the time. So Old Guy 2 drops down right in front of me, forcing me down the track and onto the cote and the apron, which is not the place to be when you're going 35mph on tyres with zero traction. Then there was nowhere for me to go. I could see the accident coming, but with no brakes and no coasting, I didn't have any options. So probably for two whole seconds, I saw the crash coming while thinking something along the lines of "Jesus Balls" or "Holy Fuckin' Shit" or "This Is Going To Be Really Unpleasant."
The turn came, and since I had nowhere to go, my bike launched straight up the track. It was interrupted by the wheel of Old Guy 1, who wasn't really doing anything. I ran straight into it and my tyre popped loudly and washed out, which put me on the track on the inside of the corner. From there, it was weird. Since I was sliding, I could see the bikes of the other two go around me as I slid to a stop on the cement on my ass. I was not excited about the crash. I checked myself and decided that I actually WAS excited because I had no broken bones that I could find. That was pretty much the whole crash, and probably the most terrifying two seconds of my life. I mean, I could see what was going to happen, and there was absolutely nothing I could have done to avoid it at all. Nothing. At all. Really.
Anyway, nothing broken, and i had a flat tyre, so nothing really bad, but still. Scary Shit. That night (which would be last night) I took the most painful shower of my life. Even now, it hurts to type since i have track burns all over my right hand. The friction melted through my glove and into my skin.
So my list of things that hurt looks like this:
Right hand, Right foot, Left knee, Right knee, Right Thigh, Left Shoulder, Left Hip, Right Shoulder, Left Elbow, Head, and Right Nut. That's all I can think about right now. Here's some pictures of the damage:
Left Knee

Left Shoulder

Left Hip

Then I bandaged all that crap up and went home to take the most painful shower of my life. Moral of the story: Don't ride with old guys.



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