I should have taken a lesson from Landis and just kept a bottle in my hand. Riding through the California heat wave sucked. Two bottles on the front side feed and one on the back. Nine in total but i'd say I drank about six. Three more than any thing I've done in competition.

The perfect gut. A good three inches over the belt line. The avalanche of flab, seemingly about to fall on my shoulder. Is this what happens when you stop riding?

Super COMo Mom.

Ahh, the suffering didn't stop at the XC. I lasted longer that ever (16:40) at the short track, in slightly warmer weather.