Thursday, I raced the at the dragstrip in Southern Oregon. The first five laps I hung on to the back. Laps 5 through 2 I moved up to the front. At the start of the second lap, I was in third place. We started going up a small climb. I noticed a chick about halfway up the climb, and thought she was attacking, so I responded. I flew right by her. I thought that was odd. I was all alone until about two thirds of the way through the lap. Some dude caught up with me, and asked if I wanted to work together. I told him yes. Then we got passed on the left and on the right. That stunk. I was dropped by the pack, though I did finish on the final straight with everyone else. Some got let on the track, though: my dignity.

Friday, a former professor and I agreed to go on a ride. Saturday, we get to his house. He told me he had been riding all winter and felt like he was in the best cycling shape of his life. We got on the road for a little bit and he told me to go as fast as I wanted. I told him I would take my time to warm up. A little later he tells me that he feels like he can climb with anyone. We start the climb. A mile in, he tells me that he's only gotten a bout six hours of sleep per night all week. Two miles in, he tells me he had a bowl of cereal for breakfast and no lunch. Three miles in, he tells me I look very relaxed. At four miles, I hear that I'm not even sweating. At five miles, we get passed by for the sixth time up the climb, and for the sixth time, I accelerate to get us single file. The last one and a half miles were covered alone. I put thirty second into the fellow, and found my dignity as well.