It's Classics season and it smells like crap

Its getting to the end of March, and that means the spring classics season is in full swing over in Europe. We are finally getting our first taste of spring here in the Cape Fear. Unfortunately though, I'm not talking about the weather, which has been quite disappointing thus far. I'm talking about crap. Dog crap to be specific. All the fair weather runners are coming out of the wood works, and they're dragging Fido along with them. What they always forget is that Fido isn't allowed to use public restrooms (when will the discrimination end), so he is forced to go on the grass (or the sidewalk, always my favorite). And surprise, they don't have a bag, even though  in many areas, such as the loop at Wrightsville, there's bag dispensers everywhere. So now the rest of us are left dodging landmines as we try to get in a run. And as water warms up, we'll soon be swimming in the channel and the ocean. To help illustrate the problem here, I have included a intricate diagram of a watershed, not unlike the one we all live in.

It always floats downstream

As we can see, the swimmer in the diagram is particularly nonplussed at the sight of poo flowing into the very water he is swimming in. So for the love of god, bag it, scoop it, hell, eat it thats what your in to. 

Alright enough of that s*&%. Getting back to the classics season, which is really heating up with the Tour of Flanders today (warning: minor spoiler ahead). However, many of these riders will have there sights set on the true Queen of the Classics taking place next Sunday. No, I'm not talking about Paris-Roubaix. Nobody cares about that antiquated race anymore. I'm obviously referring to the White Lake Sprint Triathlon. A true test for the specialists, the White Lake Sprint always brings out the hard men of the sport. However, due to an early crash at Flanders today, one of the favorites, Tom Boonen, is questionable for the start on Sunday. 

"I should've just rested for White Lake!"

I wish Tom a speedy recovery, but it will be nice having one less person to worry about.

Sarasota Pan Am Cup-O-Noodles - Now with flavor

 Another weekend, and another race. Although this one can't quite match the clout of the AFWC, it was still fairly competitive. I did have to drive a bit farther though. This weeks adventure took me down to Sarasota, FL for the ITU Sarasota Pan American Cup (the ITU is very creative with their names). For those of you unfamiliar, ITU cup races are contested in the draft legal format and primarily over the international/olympic distance. These races are also known for having the worst prize money to depth of field ratios in the entire sport. For most, these races are used to garner ITU points to build their way up the food chain of races from the Continental Cup level all the way up to the Olympics. For others, it's a great way to get your ass handed to you as the draft legal format can be brutally unforgiving if you make the smallest mistakes.

Unfortunately, this weekend I fell into the later group.

Poor basterd

 If only I could go back Marty McFly style and warn myself. Better yet, I need Marty to go back and hook me up with some of these:

Power laces, truly the future of the sport

 Hell, just give me a damn Hoverboard while we're at it. Seeing as they haven't been invented yet, I could probably talk my way out of a penalty.

Gimme the damn board kid, Matt's in trouble!

 Ok, so I guess the Delorean broke down, because Marty never came to my rescue. Therefore, the following events were allowed to occur.

 After a solid swim, I found myself in postion to easily make the first chase group behind the breakaway of three that had got away. As I made my way through transition, I struggled a bit to unzip my wetsuit. My transition was about 5 seconds slower then most of the other guys, but it was just enough to put me in no-mans-land heading onto the bike course. I formed up a chase group with 4 other guys, but we just couldn't match the fire power of the lead group. We were eventually caught by the second main pack on the road about half way through the bike leg. With the help of the extra horsepower, we managed to mitigate our losses, but still came into T2 with a 2 minute deficit. I tried to channel Jens Voigt, and tell my legs to shut up, but they weren't having any of that. They kept on being like "Dumbass, why'd you bike so hard? Don't you know we aint ready for that kinda crap? Its friggin March man!". Couple of whiny bitches they are. So, with the lower half of my body in full protest, I slogged through the run as best I could. Come to find, my run was not too terribly slow, most everyone else just decided to run fast as hell. I managed to finish 25th on the day, which wasn't so bad, but could have been a good bit better had it not been for a few poorly timed mishaps.

 There were a couple of good takeaways from this weekend though. I was first off the bike and first out of transition from my chase group, which has never happened before. I also managed to not completely crap the bed with my early season fitness (or lack there of). On the other hand, I was also pretty stupid. Instead of being smart and applying sunscreen on my shoulders once I noticed that there wasn't an ounce of shade on the course, I chose to just get fried.

Yeah, too much surface area on those bad boys to ignore.

 Now I'm left with what can best be described as a combination wife beater and deep v-neck tan line on my back.

So Marty, if your reading this, quit playing Huey Lewis and save my ass.