So I spent my Thursday night packing and right after school on Friday, I loaded up my bike, my kids and a cooler full of snacks and drove the 2 1/2 hours to Fruita.
I left my sanity at home.
I am fully aware that taking 2 kids alone on a quick overnight trip is no big deal. Everyone everywhere does it all of the time.
This does not lessen the exhaustion factor. And it certainly does not make one better rested or fresh for a cyclocross race.
Upon arrival in Fruita, the kids and I went in search of a non-fast food restaurant that could feed us quickly. This is apparently a non-existent entity because TWO HOURS after being seated at the brewery, we finally left.
Two hours.
Lucky for me, my kids were fantastic. No one melted. No one screamed. And no one was so tired they almost fell asleep in their food.
Except maybe for me.
The next morning was filled with wrestling a fairly mobile toddler, his swimming sister and re-packing everything in the car (I refused to believe the well-intentioned front desk clerk who was all, "You can totally leave your bike on the car. No one ever steals bikes here." Right, lady. I will be bringing my bike in my room with me, thank you very much.).
After all that, THEN I raced. And I lost the race in the first 2 minutes.
After three races in Junction this season, I have finally learned that the races involve a gazillion 180 degree turns and few natural features. Which is fine and good, it's just that I suck- like, really suck- at 180 degree turns. In this case, I was caught up in the aggro men's field, panicked, slowed down in the first turns and watch the girl ahead of me speed away without a care in the world.
Goodbye, 20-year-old girl who is better at tight turns than me. Good work kicking my ass before the race really even commenced.
UGH.
The positive side is that I am a BEAST at laying the hammer down on the straightaways. The down side is that while I could see the girl ahead of me due to the maze-like nature of the course, I could never catch her.
Post-race, I packed it all back up (it only took me 2 hours or so...) and took Hazel to McDonald's. Yes, McDonald's, the root of all evil. She had been begging me for the last 24 hours to go to the playspace there (she didn't even care about the food) and she had been such a superstar the whole trip that I gave in.
So I sat at McDonald's while my stomach growled angrily for some real food and watched my kid play.
She was a total sport and left after 5 minutes so we could get me a burrito and caffeine for the drive home. I love agreeable 5-year-olds.
We were 20 miles from home when we were rear-ended on Highway 50. Apparently, the woman who rear-ended me can't turn corners very well either. No one was hurt and it was fairly low-speed. But damn. I ALMOST made it.
Other than the bikes (Hazel had hers too. She is a rockstar cylocross racer.), I unloaded zero items from the car that night. I was done.
My kids were so not done and I kept looking at the clock to see if it was bedtime.
The next day? It was amazing. I hired a babysitter and went on a super rad, albeit tiring ride with Sarita and Tim.
And on Monday, I took Hazel and Olivia mountain biking while Tygh slept in the car. That was the frosting on the cake. Have you ever listed to the squeals of a 5-year-old and a 6-year-old while they shred single track?
You should. You most definitely should.
This picture was taken on a straightaway. I know this because I look mostly competent here. I have pretty much zero pictures of the kids from the trip because 1 parent+2 kids= hands very full.
My friends are really good at mountain biking. They walk a lot less than I do.
Blurry, but you get the idea. Dirt is where it's at.
And now I bring you...Silly girls on bikes!
