I’ve had a full on week this week, commencing with MCOW on Saturday, yet haven’t had the urge to write up about any of it. I am not sure why, maybe fatigue, too much going on, or I am struggling with style?
Melbourne Cup on Wheels was a complete hoot – I had a ball. Three races, the first of which I stuffed up because I can’t count, or the judges can’t count. Either way it doesn’t really matter, because the handicap and scratch were awesome fun, and I got to ride in style with some excellent riders whom I would otherwise not get to share the track with in competition.
Monday I was the official Style Queen, being the dragon on the track apron, reminding the Hour Queen to maintain form and technique, despite glycogen drops, cramps and massive fatigue during her conquering of the hour record in her age group. Style queen my arse, I was the Style Nazi! And Liz has a World’s Best time forWMAS8. Bloody brilliant! That's Style!
Tuesday I trained before work at the track. This is very unstylish, because it entails getting up at 4.30 am, a time at which I am never any good. Wednesday was full of meetings, at work and after. Here I was the style queen of thoughtfulness, incisiveness and problem-solvingness. Thursday I was style queen on the bike, redeeming myself for some missed training sessions during the week (not stylish), with a repeat this morning (stylish).
State Titles are next weekend. I keep forgetting. Maybe I’ll forget to turn up Saturday morning. This year I am racing events that are new to me in a championship situation: sprints and kierin. Pursuiting is still on my banned list, particularly as my training this year has been interesting to say the least, being haphazard, ad hoc, short and sharp when it happens. Or maybe my training regime has been like this because pursuiting is banned? Of course, being a style queen means that such training, any training, is irrelevant, and as long as I look good on the boards on the day, that’s all that matters. Although, I must admit, with 8 days to go, I am sneaking in some secret training, just in case. My cop out line is that I am focussing on Nationals, the pinnacle for style queens and nazis alike. I am hoping my Sam Miranda skinsuit is ready for me to swan around in bucolic style by then (hint hint).