Low Battery

Still in recovery mode after the Whitmores Super Cross Cup...

There was supposed to be a Cyclo-Cross World Cup in the US this year, on the usual dates for Whitmores, and while the the World Cup fell through (shocker) it still meant that New York's biggest cross race had to move dates from early October to late November. And what that really meant is that instead of a beautiful crisp fall weekend in the Hamptons we were treated to a howling winter wind fest. Saturdays race was so windy everything blew over, including the finish line arch...

With it being so windy, and being set up on a paved parking area I couldn't put up the tent sidewalls. Not getting to be bubble boy this weekend meant I froze my butt off. Both days I started out fully charged, with every bit of clothing I had on, and just got colder and colder as the heat ran out of me. Naturally my fingers were the worst. I started the day with half gloves so I could type, but quickly abandoned that idea. So I just mashed away with the full gloves and hoped it came out right. I'd hand a sheet of results to the officials (scoring out of the car), and they'd hand me back one all marked up with the corrections. It was like high school math class all over again. Eventually we'd get it correct and post em, but hoo boy was it rough for a while there.

Just before the start of the elite races on Saturday a familiar face* poked her head under the tent and said:
"Hi, remember me? John's wife? I was wondering, Would you like a coffee?"
I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Turns out Mrs. MoveItFred and her family were running a bake sale at the race. Five minutes later I had a steaming cup of coffee and all was right with the world again. Ten minutes later The Big Guy, Chief Referee Dave Miller realized that I had a cup of coffee and he didn't. Ooops. Karma paid me back for that one on Sunday though, when I got to the Orient Point Ferry at 6:01, just in time to watch the 6:00 boat sail away without me...

MoveItFred and his bake sale beneficiary

*It's well known (I hope) that I can't remember people's names to save my life. Which is kind of understandable when I deal with 4-600 people every weekend. But it means a whole lot of "Oh Hi there.... uh, uh, uh buddy/man/dude/person....." goes on when I talk to people.