so the goat and i had our first race saturday a week ago on a sunny morning in central park. while it wasn't quite a triumph, it wasn't a totally shaming experience, either.
as they say, the memory of the pain is the part of the experience that fades quickest. i know there was a lot of the race where i felt miserable and sick and full of despair, but the parts of the morning i remember the clearest are riding across the w-burg bridge in full darkness, sailing up there all alone with the twinkling lights below like wynken, blinken and nod, and the very beginning of the race when the sun had come out and we were working our way up to full speed, sizing each other up, and i felt like i was riding the crest of a wave and my sick fear turned into excitement.
this was before i fell behind on the big hill and watched them all steadily pull away from me. i spent the rest of the time fighting and gnashing and trying to catch up again, just falling short.
so it was with a spirit of hopeful determination that i set my alarm this morning for 5 to go riding before work, but i was woken instead by a spectacular booming thunderstorm and bucketing rain. i slept and woke and slept and woke, and it kept up until it was time to go to work.
we'll see what happens tomorrow morning!