Omloop van het Hageland
SO MUCH MORE HAPPENED! Where is the STORY!? After the rain, the breakaways, the cobbles, and the cow shit down our throats, don’t we deserve more than two sentences? I could come up with a better progression of events when I was in kindergarten.
Now, I’m not exaggerating here because I distinctly remember my kindergarten teacher lecturing us: “all stories have a beginning, middle, and end!” At the age of six, I misinterpreted this to mean all stories had three pages. Since I couldn’t write much back then, my mom ended up with stacks of my drawings stapled together in threes. But at least the drawings told a story! Let’s see if I can best the article kindergarten-style:
I’m not exaggerating about the cow shit.
After the race, I got a random for anti-doping. That’s what being in the break all day gets you. I could tell Andrew was bummed, although he was trying his best to hide it. Anti-doping means lots of aimless talk, Coke consumption, and waiting around festering in your own grime while you pray for your kidneys to work. Cycling is so glamorous like that. The rest of the team would be leaving in the van while we sat around for hours.
For once in my life, however, I was hydrated after the race. It was cold out so I hadn’t been sweating much; I’d been in the break all day so I was also able to get feeds from the swanee in the feed zone easily. We walked into the anti-doping building, I went right up to the WADA dude, said “I’m ready,” chose my cup, and closed the door. I exited the bathroom holding my pee cup and was greeted with Andrew’s raised eyebrows (of surprise?) and a smile. So pro! We were out of there in 15 minutes. I joked that Andrew was happier about my performance in the bathroom than my performance on the race course.
It is snowing in Izegem this morning. And I thought the weather was bad yesterday! Thirty minutes on the rollers here I come.