I went out to the Tuesday night time trial last night. My legs were trashed from racing and riding Sunday and then running Monday and some crazy zombie kick and jumps at Masters practice. I was not expecting a stellar performance. I was tired. And it was the boy's last night in town. I knew he was packing up the U-Haul with his buddy. The last time I'd been to the TT was the night he called me up and said "Are you in the car? Is this an ok time to talk?....We're going to Connecticut".
My head was all over the place. So brought the iPod. But I rode a warm up lap with my buddy Todd...and then I ran into a bunch of my guys at the start - Kevin, Barry, Smitty, Brian, James... We joked and laughed and carried on.
I dug deep. Set a new PR by 12 seconds.
They were all benig slow to change clothes for a T run. I razzed them. Kevin picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, spun me around, attempted to convince Barry to smack my ass...but Barry knows better, that I would smack back. There was lots of laughter.
And we ran. And I talked to Todd about running. And his stride and what I do to relax and the importance of good stride.
I got in my car, checked my phone, had a couple emails. Training partners wanting to know about the move, questioning where I'm headed, what I'm doing, how I could leave them, somewhat in jest.
And I know they're happy for me, but for the first time, i got a little sad. I mean, I'm overjoyed about the opportunity I have and adventures that lie ahead and all the things I'm getting to experience. But there is a part of me that has grown to love the people here. I've grown attached. And it breaks my heart a little to leave them. And to know that I'll be missed.