Race for Baconator

We raced 150 miles this weekend. Sturbridge and Palmer were both hard and frustrating races. It seemed everyone wanted to be in a break, but no one was content with any of the moves to form. So, Ryan and I basically banged our heads against the wall chasing moves and attacking with little to show for our efforts. Matt put in a solid sprint to claim 14th, 4th in the field sprint. Anyway, that's racing.

But, with racing comes the post-race eating. A while ago, Ryan and I devised a quantitative scale of a race's difficulty. It's a rather simple rating system based on the Wendy's Baconator. For those not fortunate enough to try a Baconator, I can assure you it's a wonderful source of sodium and calories without the unneccessary addition of vegetables. Two burger patties, 2 layers of cheese, ketchup, mustard and a layer of bacon. I believe little Wendy skipped up to Heaven, her little, red pigtails springing about her ears, and returned with this 800 calorie delicacy. They are quite remarkable. But, I digress. Back to the rating system.

Each race, once complete, is discussed in great detail while peeling off the various layers of lycra. Each rider explains, in detail, how they could have won the race but were derailed by a mechanical, cramps, the yellow line rule or so and so from some other team. Finally, we settle into the car. Wiping salt from around our eyes and waving to that guy who robbed us of that elusive win, we begin to discuss our hunger and how many Baconators it would take to satisfy our stomachs' aching. Thus, the numerical difficulty rating, designated by number of desired Baconators, is assigned to the day's racing.

To this date, Battenkill-Roubaix was the hardest race and recieved a 3.5 Baconator rating. This weekend, in terms of total racing effort, probably was close to 3 Baconators. Unfortunately, as wannabe fast cyclists we are only permited to rank the races, not eat the alloted Baconators.

Also, if you are ever racing with a team using radios, it would be a great idea to ask them what they're listening to on the iPod. It not only makes them think you're an idiot, but it also opens the door to make fun of them for liking Celine Dion and the American Idol winners.