delaware rox the barrens

so there ya go. but before you begin formin' misconceived ideas about my studliness, consider that the du field stood at about 20 before we First State people showed. at packet pickup i found hen, looking totally pimp in our new kit and conversing with a similarly-pimped dude.

- hey – i greeted hen.
- 'sup.
- who's he? - i gestured at pimp no.2
- that's [spoonmaster foreigncups]. you met him before, remember? at e-town's? - forkmeister scandleflash didn't seem to mind being discussed in third-person.
- oh. hmm. he has nice legs.
- yes – hen agreed magnanimously. i pursed my lips and thought for a couple long seconds.
- you do too – i finally admitted.
- thank you.

there is no “i” in “team,” you see. and The Team ended up with 3 spots in the top 5 overall: flashmonster boodlesnatch and his carved, shaven legs won, hen took 3rd and i popped in at 5th.

this race was a world of difference from last week's. there was no suffering, i rocked solid on the bike, and running and i got back together after being on a break for a week and a half. i held back on the runs, though, because the hamstring is querulous and i'm not challenging it before i see sir rudy tomorrow. expect bruiseporn, friends.

the soundtrack? the doobie brothers' "black water" and kenny rogers' “she believes in me.” i don't know where this shit comes from, but there have got to be corporeal synapses and once i find them i'm gonna open my skull and carve them out with a melon scooper. replace 'em with a GPS unit so i don't end up in lost in south jersey ever again.