We line up for the Grand Prix de Santa Ana. Exciting stuff. We meet our hot Schick models. Their outfits were enough to render our male staff distracted, and fortunately we had no needs greater than finding the bathroom so we were okay.
We rolled out, through a parking garage, and I was amazed that we didn’t all crash on the speed baubles the size of cantaloupes. Miracles happen on Wednesdays, apparently.
We begin our official start after the neutral parking garage escapade, and roll through the El Salvadorian countryside. It’s beautiful, yet sprinkled everywhere with trash. My Grandfather could have made a killing here (he was a garbage man before starting the world-famous Lozano’s Car Wash). We counter a few attacks by assorted girls, but mainly chilled out. The course profile told us there was a small hill at the end. Oops! It was NOW (50k into a 100k race), because suddenly everyone is shifting and I am clueless and toward the back and suddenly gravity reaches up and grabs my fat ass and pulls me toward San Salvador while the peloton rides away. Jorge and Pete come by in the team car and I give them a defeated look. This hill is LONG! Maybe 5-10k. Argh! I tow a few girls from Costa Rica up the climb, get rid of them, and eventually catch a Brazilian. We work together the rest of the race (about 50k!) and roll in 10 minutes behind the peloton. I almost get hit by a farmer toting geese and 2x4s (not sure what they are called in countries who obey the sensible metric system), and develop a distaste for traffic roundabouts.
Kathleen gets 10th, with Anna, Hiroko and Andrea close behind in the field sprint. Megan led it out so she rolls in a bit later. I am of course off the freakin back.
We return to INDES and enjoy a paella dinner (okay, just me) cooked by some kids who apparently moonlight as cops and god knows what else. Nice folks, though.
We rolled out, through a parking garage, and I was amazed that we didn’t all crash on the speed baubles the size of cantaloupes. Miracles happen on Wednesdays, apparently.
We begin our official start after the neutral parking garage escapade, and roll through the El Salvadorian countryside. It’s beautiful, yet sprinkled everywhere with trash. My Grandfather could have made a killing here (he was a garbage man before starting the world-famous Lozano’s Car Wash). We counter a few attacks by assorted girls, but mainly chilled out. The course profile told us there was a small hill at the end. Oops! It was NOW (50k into a 100k race), because suddenly everyone is shifting and I am clueless and toward the back and suddenly gravity reaches up and grabs my fat ass and pulls me toward San Salvador while the peloton rides away. Jorge and Pete come by in the team car and I give them a defeated look. This hill is LONG! Maybe 5-10k. Argh! I tow a few girls from Costa Rica up the climb, get rid of them, and eventually catch a Brazilian. We work together the rest of the race (about 50k!) and roll in 10 minutes behind the peloton. I almost get hit by a farmer toting geese and 2x4s (not sure what they are called in countries who obey the sensible metric system), and develop a distaste for traffic roundabouts.
Kathleen gets 10th, with Anna, Hiroko and Andrea close behind in the field sprint. Megan led it out so she rolls in a bit later. I am of course off the freakin back.
We return to INDES and enjoy a paella dinner (okay, just me) cooked by some kids who apparently moonlight as cops and god knows what else. Nice folks, though.
Pete is totally stoked. These suits would be perfect for time trials.
1 comment:
por favor, que se agranden las fotos de las HOT SCHICK modelas!
that means 'please enlarge the photo of the team' uh huh ;)
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