One day after the Peckerhead (need I say you shoulda been there?) and we were racing at Worthington. One of the best courses in Central Ohio - safe closed roads, neighborhood parties and folks who actually cheer for the racers. Lined up for the geezers race are The Chairman, The Godfatha', World War Z, Farmer J, and me - Pantani. The main competition was a couple Team Dayton sprinters. I am not saying that the Fat Stuey Hunter Roll: sponsorship didn't motivate us to beat on them like red headed step children, but it didn't hurt.
Thank you course marshalls Mel & Keith and supporters, Amy, Butcher, Ben, & Abby.
15 laps scheduled and everyone knew that we couldn't take these boys to the finish or the results might not be in our favor. George called for attack after attack on the backside hill to soften them up. Conti went (er, um...well after we suggested that our own guys shouldn't chase down Da' Godfatha) he went again, The Dayton boys gave chase. We followed. Later there was more schooling that we should attack on the hill going 'up' not the hill going 'down.' Check please!
I went, John went again, then Fred went, then Conti (kinda sounds like the pre-race ritual in the men's room?) Hey, we're masters racers and the prostate ain't what it used to be.
Finally Farmer John, who has been lifting hogs since they were lil' piglets, attacked (yep, got it right on the uphill) and the chasers couldn't chase. Soon he is outta sight. A couple laps later Fred goes, no reaction. So with 5 to go I take off. Three solo breaks. Fred never caught John and I never caught Fred. 1-2-3. Bingo. Deal done. thank you very much. Z finishes off the pack sprint with flair. Bam.
See you next week.