today I was in 2 races.
and in a lot of rain.
this morning was the salt lake 1/2 marathon, and once again, I was riding up emigration while the runners were coming down. in the rain. it sprinkled on us, then it poured on us. I shook my head like a dog and water flew in all directions. rain collected into large droplets then dripped from my bare arms down to the ground, or to my legs, whichever it reached first.
during the last mile and a half to the summit the rain lessened and lightened and actually ceased. for a while. and then it sprinkled a bit. then stopped.
heading up toward big mountain, I was suddenly passed by a cyclist with a race number on his back.
and then another one.
this, of course, set my curious mind afire. what race could this be? where are they headed? where are they coming from?
then there was a long pause before another racer zipped past.
this was the strangest race I'd seen. usually guys would come past in packs or at least twos and threes..... these guys were coming just one at a time.
and they kept coming.
I would hear heavy breathing (barely being able to separate it from my own labored breath), then the whir of tires on pavement, then the next one would be past me.
part of my query was answered when I reached the top of big mountain and saw a good twenty-five cyclists hanging around: the race stopped here.
the next part of my question was answered when I rode down to mountain dell golf course and saw there the start of both the 1/2 marathon and the bike race.
and I fully understood the situation after I googled bike race september 5 utah and found that it was an individual time trial Climber's Trophy sponsored by the UCA.
ah. I love answers.
I received another answer today, as well. I hadn't asked the question, but sometimes the universe just gives us answers, knowing better than we do exactly what our needs are.
and today the universe decided that I needed to learn about road rash.
this is how it came about:
I was riding down little mountain, 11 miles into my ride, when I felt a small change in the way my back pocket felt while at the same time hearing a small clunking sound. it took twenty feet or so for me to connect the two things, then I reached around to feel my back pocket. the phone was still there, heavy at the bottom, but the long slender banana I had placed there an hour before was decidedly gone.
I slowed, then turned and headed back up the hill to where the banana had jumped ship, and sure enough, there it was, lying alone and despondent near the edge of the bike lane.
I pulled up next to it, reached down to grab it and argh! it had suffered an injury!
there was a good 3-inch-long section of road rash, the skin looking like someone had taken a grater to it. empathy welled, and I gently tried to assess the extent of the injuries. bruises, definitely, especially along the length of the road rash. another bruise was already apparent near the top.
I pealed the thing as carefully as I could, and realized that a good third of that banana had turned to mush.
so I ate the good part, threw the mushy part away, and giggled about the lessons life sometimes hands us.