I really didn't think I looked like an ax murderer...

After a really craptastic day at work, I decided to go for a run thru the high end section of Richmond. I still haven't gotten fully back in the running mode, and am full in weenie bike mode. So I had on tights, a long sleeve shirt and my garish Rostello light winter jacket. Yeah, I looked like a Christmas tree. Colorful.

As I got down by St Christophers Private School, I saw this Mercedes SUV swerve but run over something that looked like glass. As I got closer, I saw a box, and glass. Something just wasn't right.

Once I got there, I realized... not glass... roofing nails.

All those Muffy Soccer Mom's, picking up thier private school kids... rolling down that hill over roofing nails... Ok, I'm evil, but not that evil. So I started to try to get the Muffettes to stop...

Stops? Stop for the crazy woman in mis-matched running gear? Heaven forbid! You would have thought that I was an axe murderer. Or Ted Bundy. Although, Ted Bundy didn't have any trouble getting women to stop for him...

I did manage to get a couple little old ladies to stop. But they looked really scared until I told them why I was waiving them off. At this point I just got pissed and went on with my run.

On my way back there was a nice man out with a push broom trying to sweep the nails out of the road. I stopped to tell him of my earlier travails... and dodged a few cars who were determined to run our asses over. He said that he was about done trying to be nice. People just wouldn't slow down even though he was under a street light.

So if you hear of a slew of flat tires in Richmond tommorrow, don't feel sorry for the people. Us serial killers tried to warn them...

The new meaning of "EPIC"

I officiated today at the Virginia cyclocross champs at Darden Towe... great course, great promoter and finally, real little Belgian kind of weather. You know what I'm talking about, 30 something degrees, snow on top of slop, and a course the consistency of baby bad stuff.

Yeah, epic.

Good thing for me that I've replenished my truck after J hijacked it and cleaned it out. I had on tights, chinos, 3 shirts, a hat, a heavy jacket, gloves, wool socks and rubber rain boots. I still froze. Next time I'm putting those battery operated hunter's socks in the bike kit bag. I might as well have left the gloves at home as I couldn't write and wear them at the same time.

If there was ever a course where bike handling played a tremendous role, it was this one. If you could ride smoothly on slop, you had a great day. If you couldn't, you didn't. If you had a pit bike... you had a huge advantage. If you didn't you carried 10 lbs of ice, mud and "stuff" jammed into your brakes, deraileurs etc... There were some very talented riders out there that had a field day, and many who suffered big time. I salute you all. Just showing up on the line took a level of commitment that most racers didn't have.

First thing I did when I left the course was jack up the heat... then I stopped at the Everyday Cafe and ran my hands under hot water for a few minutes, then got a huge hot chocolate. Bet you most people did something similar. I may never be warm again.

And Glenda Craddock... you rock. You were so awsome out there and I was very, very proud of you. No way I could have kept up with you in the slop today. Gold star, girl. Big gold star.

Adventures with Karen & Gina, or why I will never stay at Motel 6 again...

Ok, I don't need much in a hotel. It has to be clean. It has to be safe. It can't have bugs. Just like with bike equipment pick 2 out of 3. Clean and safe, Safe and Bug free, etc...

Gina is my dog George's handler. We went on a typical Karen adventure to the Brittany Nationals in Ft Smith, Arkansas... yeah, on the Oklahoma border. Gina got to my house at 9:30 pm, and we drove straight thru, taking turns sleeping and walking dogs.

Thursday at 4 pm we arrived. Beat. We set up our equipment at the dog show site and headed to Cracker Barrel for a kick ass $8.99 turkey day dinner. Turkey, ham, veggies, stuffing, a drink and PIE! I may never cook again.

And then things got bad. Saturday night, after showing all day, we got back to Motel 6 about 1o pm. There were motocross racers in the parking lot getting a bit too wild. Two single women, 9 dogs, and a bunch of very drunk, and drugged up guys... It was not good. Then really not good.

At 10:30 they started beating on the van to make the dogs bark. Gina went out to see what was going on and one of the drunk slobs yelled at her..."What are you looking at, bitch!" They then told us that they could drink in public, they could do whatever they wanted and that I could get my liberal friends out and they'd shoot them...

So we called the front desk. The guys were not just harassing us, scaring the dogs, but also breaking glass everywhere... front desk said that they'd send a security guard...

Ten minutes later... no security guard so I called again. Finally an elderly man came, and when the guys told him that they didnt have to go in their rooms and that they'd get out a gun and start shooting people, he told us that we all should get along. Then he left. Fast.

So being dumb, I called the front desk again, and asked them to call the police. They told me they would. Not. Yeah, not.

So we sat up all night... afraid to pack up to leave as we would have to exit thru the very drugged up people. And the hotel did NOTHING to protect us.

At 5 am I went to the front desk to file a formal complaint. The receptionist looked at me like I was stupid. I guess that kind of behaviour is to be expected at Motel 6. We had planned on staying one more night before heading home, but I drove past Memphis, and got a little no-tell motel somewhere between Memphis and Knoxville.... it was quiet, it was clean, and no bugs.

Me, I'm never staying at Motel 6 again. They don't give a rats ass about their guests.

But George... made it to the very last cut at the Nationals... so close. I was so proud of him and Gina. The motel may have sucked... but Gina and George rocked the house.