It’s Tuesday, so I’m sure that both of you have already scoured the internet for all of the race reports and photos. Blah blah blah… a hill… blah blah blah… then everyone stopped for a little log… blah blah blah… horse poop… blah blah blah. Personally, I’m still reeling from the race last week, because Dawn got to meet Will Shortz and all I got to do was ride around in the dirt. Will Fucking Shortz. The puzzle master. It got me thinking that not-racing is maybe the best thing that can happen to someone’s weekend. But if I didn’t race, I’d have to find a whole new place to pretend to casually bump into (and awkwardly corner) people that I wish would be my friends but choose not to be. It makes me feel like that girl on Flight of the Conchords. Usually it goes something like this: “Oh hey! You’re at this race too? Weird. What are the chances! Anyway, as long as we’re both here, do you want to hang out socially and be my friend?” Usually people say no. But every once in a while, when things are just right, someone will sigh a resigned sigh and let me stand next to them for a couple of minutes.

I cherish those times.

Here are some photos from another awkward interaction I saw.

This is Tommy and Ira. Tommy thinks he’s about to pass. You can tell because he’s put his head down really low, in the hopes that Ira won’t notice. Sneaky. Like a rat. Or crazy like a fox. Or something like some other animal.

Then Tommy crashed. I didn’t take a picture.

But I did take a picture of Ira laughing immediately after it happened. Probably not at Tommy. Probably at a knock knock joke he heard earlier in the day. But the timing is suspicious, anyway.

Then I took a picture of Tommy looking like he’s going to try to eat Ira.

Funny stuff. Here are some more pictures from the race. Some of the people who race make very funny faces.