Originally Posted by
seypat
Always working it. You are more suave than Ben in Blue Velvet.
Not really, but there were moments, mostly driven by the jersey comments, but the chatter does keep up one's spirits.
Like:
"Jeez Louise, 5 miles to go."
"5 miles. That's 18 minutes. I can do anything for 18 minutes."
"Really?"
"Well, unless there's popcorn in the microwave."
"Your jersey says 'Relax, we will get there.' Is that true?"
"As long as you hold still and do what I say, sure."
"You're going to drink that beer, aren't you?" (100-mile stop).
"Yes, but only half. I have to watch my figure."
"Hey, Sloth guy, I just got lubed."
"You really want me to answer that?"
"We fell in with a group running 24."
"You're dead to me."
"You may want to think about a compact crankset on that old bike."
"Damn Title IX."
At 130, with 95 to go:
"They have no food."
"They have sweet potato pancakes."
"They have no food."
"But you drank a beer."
"Beer is food."
"I think you're delirious."
"I'm from Wisconsin."
"So am I."
"Then what happened to you?"
"You're not married, are you."
"Nope."
"I'll bet you never have been."
"Wow. Ouch."
One thing they had were Bike Patrol guys with first aid training, etc. They knew cramps, had pills, mustard, pickle juice, and above all, they communicated. More than once, a guy leaned out of a medical SAG vehicle and called me by name. However, the same guy mistook Kris for me at the 146 mark, and tried to give him cramping pills. It was the jersey, and he'd been out there since 5 am, too.
At the end party, I went to thank the whole group, and they were smashed. And they had to go out and do the last 95 all over again.