Reader, some rather terse and belittling words were said to me during a handicap race on the weekend. Nay, I did not show outward signs of offense. Rather, I made a mental note, to hurt my offender, in every race, until death do us part. When he has my wheel, I shall be out of my saddle. When I have his wheel, I vow not to roll through. When he is trying to get on the back of a bunch, Dr. Behooving shall be attacking off of the front. A Napoleonic madness has been awakened within me, attributable to my size (small) and his (massive). Film maker John Waters speaks here of the exhilarating aggression of contemporary art, that he loves because it makes people insane. I don't think my burly cycling opponent realized he was speaking harshly unto an artist.
This, and my new Time carbon forks, scored via a swap, I am hoping will sustain my racing mania now for the Summer.