"Fuggg. I'm standing in horseshit!!!" I said to myself as I changed my flat tire. My first flat tire (my only flat tire with Grand Bois tires in over a year and a half). Yes, I didn't flat once, not twice, but thrice!
Got the rear changed as fast as I could and got back on the bike, maybe losing 4-5 minutes. Get passed by two small packs. Get my head back into the game, throw the leg over the bike. Why the hell is the front end so squishy? "Fugg me!"
Zoom, a big group goes by. "Fugg!"
I'm still standing in shit, there was a lot of it alongside of the road, and I didn't even care. It was green with lots of hay stuck in it. Hey, shit. Hay, shit.
Used my only tube on my first flat, search the seatbag for a patch. Wicked - got one. Now where is the fugging hole? Can't find it. "Fugg!" There's water, putrid green, slimy water in the ditch. I can use that to find the hole. Don't fall going down to it. "Fugg!" I fell. Get the tube in the water, can't find the hole. Finally find the whole. "Fugg." Zoom. Zoom. A couple riders pass. "Fugg!"
Get the patch out, can't get the backing off with my gloves on. Get shit all over the sticky part. "Fugg!" Take me gloves off. Shit. Better dry the tube a bit better. That 'should' hold.
Half a cannister of air left. "Fugg." Only filled it half way. Have to use my piece-of-shit-ass-fugging-crippity-crap-fugging-piece-of-shit Crank Brothers micro pump. Piece of shit. "Why is this fugging taking so long??!! Fugg!"
Get the tire filled up to an 'acceptable' level. Get on the bike. Okay, all sorted, let's get this fugging show on the road. Pedal, pedal, pedal . . . . what the fuggg?!?!?
Front end goes soft.
Muther fugging fugger fuck fuck.
Yank the wheel off. Get the tube out and the gwad-damn fugging shitty little fugging patch fell off. Gwad damn slimy water. Dig around the seatbag for another patch. One left. Fugg this better work. No air, just that gwad damn shitty pump. 13465 strokes later and it's at an acceptable level.
A big white van with race officials go by and ask it I am okay. "Yeah, thanks."
"Keep going!" - pitty cheer from someone in the van. No other riders in site. I can see for miles on the country stretch. "Fugg."
Get it on, get going. It's holding. What's that "whump, whump, whump" coming from the back end? Get off and look. "Fugg me!" I must have twisted the tube while hurrying to put it in and now I've got what resembled a python who just swallowed a wild bore . . . big ass lump sticking my sidewall out. Fugg it, I just want to finish this thing.
Torn Grand Bois tire. Ka-ploo-ee.
Cross the line 1 hr and 2 minutes behind the leader. I figure at least 30 minutes behind where I should be. Fugg.
Big pitty cheer as I crossed the line. I pump my fist to the sky in glorious triumph. Another couple half assed pitty claps. Yaaay . . . .
Yeah, I'm a winner.
108th place out of 118 finishers. Sad, sad, sad . . .
By my calculations I would have come in at a stellar 78-80th place.
Still, I felt good, I had no cramping, and dwag-gone it I had fun.