Like a Bat Out of Hell.

After my bedtime so I'll keep it short...

When preparing for a big race it's often very easy to lose sight of the important things--not the right tires, adequate rest and dialed gear--the wonder and adventure that brought you out in the first place. The reason you race a lot of bikes and don't watch much primetime TV.

Waiting helplessly for Eric's wheels for two days, blowing two tubeless tires off a rim on Friday (hope that's fixed, eek!) and splitting time between Eric's family and taking care of business was definitely a recipe for a bad headspace and the stress was palpable every time we hit another setback or kink in the plan.

After two hours of logistical nightmares at registration this morning it was looking like more of the same--too much to do, too little time. We hit the road in our borrowed jeep, bag lunch in hand (multi-tasking, you know) and gritted our teeth to battle the traffic back to town. Then, just as we hit the main drag, windows down, egg sandwiches in hand (that's a boiled egg in bread, btw), I looked down and noticed a cassette tape sticking out of the deck. "Meatloaf: Bat out of Hell". In went the track, down went the windows, up went the volume and instantly the stress melted away into a vat of late 1970's vintage cheese.

It looks like we might have net along the way, so keep listening...

10am start.