THE YEAR IN REVIEW

BEST SHAMELESS PILFERING:
This one is tough. As most of my reader(s) know, I cross over any mythical boundary that separates your stuff and mine. I mostly grab stuff from the Griffo- ciraptor as he is my beotch. This year I've grabbed and rode on two of his bikes. The first was the BlewByYou which I rode to a third in the Madera time trial. The second bike that I borrowed was his Cross bike at Hellyer when my stead shelled its seat from under me. Other things borrowed: Aero helmet, Aero shoe cover things, Rear wheel for El Diablo hill climb, etc. And the winner is....BlewByYou.





BEST TECHNOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENT:
Again a tough one. I bought and successfully installed one of those CatEye wireless cyclocomputers for my cross bike. Only feature I was really looking for was cadence and oddly enough, it's the only feature that I've been able to get to work. I also received for Christmas a digital camera. Unfortunately both of those lose out to this Blog. I started blogging this year on my birthday and it's been really fun. I have a lot of weird things rattling around in my brain that often get spilled out onto this page. The camera will probably win this category next year when I actually figure out how to use it, get the pictures from it and onto the site, get past page three of the manual, etc.

BEST RACE:
Had a lot of fun racing this year (well maybe not in any of the crits) so this again is tough. Napa Dirt has this category hands down. I showed up on race day with dead legs from doing the Wente Road Race. After a decent warm up, I hit the start like a man possessed. I got in behind Steve Oz and hung for a while. Later, after I had a snack and some fluid, I whipped up some serious tempo and left him in the dust. Went on to finish second WooHoo. Honorable mention, McLane Pacific. After missing the Varsity break on the first lap, I managed to form the JV break at the top of the rollers. I had a teammate with me who I pulled for most of the second lap. With the help of a couple of other guys, we came close to reeling in the break, but never quite caught them. We put serious time into the peloton, which was fun. My guy sprinted home for fifth in the race. I finished ninth.

WORST RACE:
Hellyer cross. Crashed within 50 yards of the start, broke a seat, dropped chain about five times, at the end I was behind some guy that was weaving all over the place not letting me pass. All the while mocking me. Later I found out he was a full lap down on me. Pathetic.

BEST WORST CRASH:
No doubt about this one. Falling on October 24th and getting scraped off the ground by the paramedics. Concussed and broken ribs slowed me down for a while. The Hellyer crash above sucked too, but the only thing hurt there was my pride.

BEST FLAT TIRE
Finishing off a ride in Watsonville, my tire went flat as I rode up to my door. Had a glorious ride through the fields of Watsonville, SeaScape, Aptos as advised by the Vello Bella. I was without tools for whatever reason, but the (Deity's of your choice) smiled on me by flatting me in the best place possible--the finish.

BEST MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT:
Oh the chest is filled for this category. See Hellyer description above. Not even close to the shame I felt by crashing at the Sea Otter. One minute into the race, while we were still on the road even, the group took a hard right on some smaller pit road thing when I thought we'd stay on the main race track to the left. At the last minute I tried to squeeze in on the left hand side of the peloton and got shoved further left onto the dirt. I buried my front wheel in a man sized rut and over the bars I went. As I tumbled I heard the peloton laughing heartily at my expense.

BEST RIDE OF THE YEAR:
Way too tough to call. The finalists are: Doing a preview lap with the Griffociraptor at the Sea Ott. We were both in a great mood and riding the new course was really fun. The smooth single track was a blast to ride and the weather held on just long enough for us to get a lap in. Also, any ride with Pat McLaughlin. It's like motorpacing riding behind him. All the while he's telling clever stories about life. Emigrant trail with Colleen Wante over Memorial Day Weekend. It was snowing, but the trails were in great shape. And the winner is: Taking an afternoon off to meet my boy at his school to ride down the trail back to the house. I know, kindof sappy, but it is pretty great.

BEST CLOSET READER OF THE GOFAST BLOGPAGE:
Fellow Pegasaurus...Mike Vomund. In a hushed tone, every time I see him, he tells me out of the side of his mouth that he reads my stuff. Not sure why he keeps it on the downlow, not exactly porn over here.

BEST POST OF THE YEAR AS AWARDED BY YOU THE COMMENTORS:
Tie between the post with me in a little girls bathing suit (perverts all of you), the one about my missing dog (get a grip--it's just a dog), and the post about coffee (caffeine addicts).

Anyway, it's been a great year and you've been a great audience. Thanks for reading and don't forget to tip your waitresses. I'll see you on the other side.

Johnny GoFast

So my kid got some remote controlled something or other (doesn't really look like a car) and I was messing around with it last night. I had consumed mass quantities of wine at the Christmas dinner my wife threw for our family and assorted friends. While everyone was milling about and cleaning up, I thought it would be cool to see if the batteries were charged. I tested it out right there on the kitchen floor. Before I knew what was going on, I had the car thing whipping around the room like a possessed machine on steroids. It was making this high pitched yell and thrashing about. Some of the folks were laughing and some of the folks were screaming at me to stop. I was at the controls, but I didn't have control of it at all. It would spin and race and bang and spin and race some more. Frantically. Finally, as if completely out of its mind, it spit the battery pack recently installed and came to an immediate and quiet stop seemingly like one of those futuristic movies where the robots can think and do for themselves when man is no longer capable. There was a moment of silence and then my mother in law very calmly said, "I think that's a better toy for outside." True.

After all this month has thrown me, I am back on the plan effective immediately.

Johnny GoFast

I've been tagged and I can't get up. Cruising around the Internet today and I linked up with Gianni and I see that I'm in some loop of people playing tag. Ever one to play the game and keep the ball rolling, I play along. To tell a family secret, I'm pretty lame at this computer stuff and I fear the linkage is a bit beyond me. I have a line in to Gianni so hopefully by the end of this post, I'll know how to link others to keep cyber world full of chatter.


Five things about me:

1) My first real ride was with the Griffociraptor. He took me out for a night ride with Steve Ouzounian, Bill Carslay, Colleen Wante, and others. I rode Griff's Gary Fisher with one of those stems that had a shock built into it. It was the same bike that Griff fell off of and broke his back. It was nicknamed the Slippery Fish. We rode up to the top of Sheppard Canyon and went into Redwood Park where East Ridge and West Ridge come together. When we got to that point in the ride, I remember thinking that it couldn't get tougher than the ride up Sheppard. Wrong. For two hours I slugged through the night at times whimpering. I wore sweats, tennis shoes in toe clips, and garden gloves. They don't let me live that ride down.

2) Way before the bike, I was a dart champion. I played on a traveling team sponsored by a bar out of St. Paul, Minnesota. I came in to the league two weeks late as one of the guys on the team was deported. In a matter of weeks, my statistics were amongst the best in the league. I started to get pressure to join a better team in a better league with the expectation that I would someday make it to the state championships. It didn't interest me in the least. Occasionally I play with some friends here in California and the winning ways continue. I once saw my little brother make four bulls eyes with three darts to win a match.

3) I had my left knee operated on in 1983 when I tore the medial collateral ligament playing football. I spent a week in the hospital and rehabbed for the better part of two years. I had my right knee operated on in 2003 when I tore the anterior cruciate ligament playing hockey. I spent three hours in the hospital and rehabbed for the better part of two years. In the twenty years between operations, nothing has really changed except the fact that instead of having doctors and nurses taking care of me post op, it was my wife. After the fifth day, she threw me out of bed and said I needed to get moving about.

4) One time I concocted this fail safe plan to steal a Minnesota Lottery sign. At the appointed moment, I tore the sign off the wall, ran out of the bar where I had a friend pull up her pick up truck so I could throw it in the back as they sped away. Unfortunately, I didn't have a plan for my getaway and the bartender grabbed me and called the cops. I was fined and had to return the sign a few days later.

5) I've been busted and denied entrance into a foreign country due to narcotics. I was traveling with my brother and a couple of his friends. We had rented a van and driver in Ely, Minnesota to take us into Canada and then we were going to paddle back to Ely. Crossing the border, we had to clear customs. They did a random search that took them less than five minutes. They pulled out one pack and riffled through it and then put it back into the van. I figured in was a show more than anything although we did fit the profile. It was 1989 and I was still in college. I had long hair and was wearing a bandanna. My brother Tony, way more straight laced than I, but looked equal to the part. He was in his third year of law school, had long hair and a pretty gnarly beard. His friends were young as well. Bill was on his way to Yale business school and Danesha was finishing up at Cal. Not exactly the drug running types, but looked young enough to be dumb enough. So with that, the customs officer comes around the van and looks us sternly in the eye and says we have a problem. He said, "we have found narcotics." "No way," I say in protest. "Something must have fallen out of your pocket when you were doing your search." Thinking narcotics was like coke or meth or something. He then produced one of those camera film containers and said that it had some dope in it. I again started to protest when Bill dropped his head. He looked at me and declared that he didn't know it was in there. That he had loaned his pack to his brother who apparently was a known habitual user. They took us into custody and searched us. It was like being in a Turkish prison (well the Canadian version anyway). We got strip searched and they tore apart the van before they returned us to the United States. Didn't cost us a cent, but we weren't exactly in Canada on vacation yet either. We tried again a couple of days later and I'm happy to report, we sailed right through. Now, when they ask if I've ever been denied entry into a foreign country, I'm supposed to say yes. I always lie. Maybe with the crack down in homeland security, I'll start popping up as a known dope mover on world wide computer systems.


Anyway, how's that for a bit of useless trivia. I now tag Moya of Moya Canyon, the Griffociraptor who got me going on all this, Fletcherette as she is probably the most honest writer in blogotopia, Hernando because he's the patrone, and Pip for President as his writing is wacky but awesome. Oh, and thanks for the technical assistance Gianni, couldn't have done it without you.

Johnny GoFast

In all my gayness left over from yesterday's performance of the Nutcracker, I forgot to relate the best part. So afterwards, I'm out front and trying to keep tabs on the little ones, two Grandma's and a more than an "I've had it" wife when I almost got run over by a five foot tall peace sign. It was being wheeled by the requisite hippie chick. No doubt the offspring of some hippie chick or perhaps, even worse, the child of some uber republican monobrowed business suit somewhere. "How can I get back at my dad for all those years of oppression and tyranny? I could get up on stage and do my thing slinked around a pole but that would be too cliche and I'm not that into being nude. ...Has to be something else, but has to really make his skin crawl. ...I know, I'll wheel a gigantic peace sign around the financial district during commute times. During the off periods I'll hit the ballet/theater/symphonic crowd." Or so I imagined. Anyway, it's not enough to think about all those in harms way, our own, their own, and everyone else caught in the middle. No, I'm afraid I need to be steamrolled as well. I was hoping to see the guy with the cross on a wheel as I haven't seen him in a while and where's the person with the global warming icon to really get my conscience going? Not sure what the global warming icon would be. Maybe a melting icecap? Al Gore's head on a stick? My wife, out of pure fear, would not let me talk to the peace sign wheeler. I was going to, but didn't know how to begin. In that nanosecond of a pause, she shoved me forward with a "don't even think about it" look.

Johnny GoFastwhenabouttoberunoverbyapeacesign

Hey gang, don't tell anybody, but I'm kind of into the ballet. Not that I know that much about it, and not that I dig men in tights, but those people can do some amazing things. If you can get past all the uber gayness, I'm not certain they aren't the most terrific athletes I've seen. Put a basketball in some of those dudes hands and I'm certain that in the process of missing a slam dunk terribly (why else would they being doing ballet if they could hammer a ball through a hoop) they'd bang their chin on the rim. Sometimes I get the feeling that they're about to jump out of the theater. One time I went to the ballet early as before the matinee show on Sundays, they have a meet the performer kind of question and answer period. They brought out a guy from Lithuania who talked about how he got into the art. Oddly enough, this guy wasn't gay. He went on to tell that he had reached a point in his career where he had to seriously consider whether to commit to it whole hearted or to give it up and concentrate on his schooling. He decided that it wasn't for him and he quit. People shifted a bit in their seats and then he backed up and said that he quit playing hockey, further breaking the stereotype. Later at the behest of his mother, he got into the ballet and he liked the physical demands it put on him. So yesterday was a real treat. I went with the wifeage and kids and two grandma's in tow, to the Nutcracker in San Francisco. It is a great time as all the kids are dressed to the nines. My boy wore a tie and looked smart in a 3/4 length black jacket. The girl wore a black evening type dress with a rose clad sash. She wore a matching red bow in her hair. Most of the other children in attendance were equally decked. They both loved the show and I loved their expressions. I asked them what their favorites were and they both liked the fight between the toy soldiers and the rats. I liked the Russian Cossacks as they always seem to dance as if they're suspended from a wire. It's really bizarre how they dance about.

Back to normal today. Went looking for the boy to say goodbye before I left for the rock pile this morning and found him hiding in a closet munching on a chocolate cookie baked up special for a cookie party they are going to at Ms. Colleen's house. I opened the door and he defiantly told me with a huge grin on his face, "I'm sneaking a cookie." "Indeed," was my reply as I shut the door trying not to explode in laughter.

I got it good.

Johnny GoFast

Out riding around at lunchtime minding my own business and feeling darn right good. Fourth ride this week and the wifeage is being pretty cool about some rides I want to do this weekend. Maybe, just maybe I'll get the lick of this training thing yet. So I come upon a long line of cars stopped at a light. I shoot up the bike lane as the traffic starts to flow. Up ahead I see one of those "I wanna be an SUV but I'm an affordable option" VW's. I don't know what kind of VW as my reader knows, I'm not much of a car guy. Anyhow, I end up right along side of it and I notice that the driver must have been out of it at the filling station because he left the gas door open. I think, "well here's a good opportunity to do a good turn," and I close the sucker as I pass. About 50 yards later, that same VW honks at me as apparently I was in his way as he wanted to go right. It was one of those speed up and cut you off maneuvers that we are all so fond of. But in this case, he never got in front of me and basically had to slow and wait (oh the hassle of that). So he lets fly with a honk and yells something out of his window. I desparately wanted to give him the finger, but pedalled on never breaking my cadence. I'm happy I didn't as my sponsor might have that guy as a customer and given the chance, maybe that guy could one day be a friend. Who knows? But it does kind of blow that I did him the favor of shutting his door only to get honked at for being guilty of riding a bike in a bike lane. Someday I'm going to start a team and the shirt at the top is going to be my logo. For now, I smile and wave. Have a great weekend and see you around.

Johnny GoFast

I was at an eye appointment this morning getting fitted for contacts, when my wife called me here at the rockpile. I was a little late as not only was I getting an education on my eyes, but on the Lord as well. My eye doctor is great. He talks to me about breathing strategies, the Oakland A's, skiing, cancer and now the Lord. The first time I visited him he taught me this karate way to breathe. It made me laugh. The nurses/assistants thought something was wrong and came bounding in. He dismissed them after assuring them that it was only a breathing technique they heard. The second time we discussed one of the A's pitchers that was on the DL. He was so convinced that his arm was killing him because of a vitamin C deficiency, that he wrote to the team trainer to off load the advice. This time the topic of religion came up. Interested, I listened. He now wants to go to lunch sometime to fill me up with more of the word. But that isn't what today's post is all about.

So I get back to the pile to see that I have a message waiting for me. I pick it up and immediately recognize my wife on the other end. She begins by calmly but very intentionally saying, "John, if you could never...". And then I heard her yell at one of the kids banishing him/her (Jackson I think but I can't really tell their cry's apart) to his/her room. I then clearly heard her growl in frustration and then she hung up. I know that she works in the classroom today so I know she will get back to me. I have a feeling, but I'm not totally certain, that I may be indirectly responsible for whatever egregious act one of my kiddie winks may have committed. I can't help but feel that the boom is about to be lowered. I want to complete the sentence with, "John, if you could never...go to work again because we just won the lottery...", but somehow I don't see that happening. And I think whatever it is I'm about to get "coached" on goes way past the leaving the toilet seat up type violation. I sit here shaking. Maybe I should have lunch sooner rather than later with my eye doctor. The end is nigh, and that right soon. Hope you are well and if you could do so in kind, I'd be much obliged.

Johnny GoFast

So I've been in a funk lately and it's due totally to the pace I've been keeping. December is great but it also sucks. The endless stream of parties are awesome as I reconnect with friends but I have to admit that they beat me down. It's only the 12th and I just looked at the schedule for the remainder of the month and it's like looking at an avalanche coming directly at me. So I felt it was time to drag out this photo as an inspiration and hopefully, if you are as beaten down as me, put a smile on your face as well.

You might be asking yourself, "what in the hell did you get yourself into there Johnny?" Quality question. A few years ago, I believe during the Griffociraptor bachelor/bachelorette house boat party on Shasta, I had maybe a little too much to drink. "Nooooooo," you say looking at the picture but in fact that is the case. I read somewhere that you should never ever get photographed while holding a coctail but I am clearly in violation. I'm sure there are some rules regarding getting photographed in a little girls bathing suit while wrapping your arm around a close to unclothed man, but really I'm only aware of the coctail rule. Anyway, we were drinking and it was kind of dusky out and my girlfriend at the time had gone home so I plowed into some beer. Feeling pretty good and standing on the shore with some buddies shooting the bull, my buddy Pete Morris came walking down the beach with something dangling from the end of a stick. I wasn't wearing my glasses so at first it looked like a rubber chicken. When he got a little closer I recognized it to be a little girls bathing suit. It had been in the sand for who knows how long, but Pete fished it up and brought it back to the group. We wondered how it got lost and how long it had been missing, etc. And then the 40-watt bulb in my head flickered on. "If you guys can put together a collection of cash, I will put that thing on," I said with a chuckle. Almost immediately a Jerry Lewis telethon broke out. To this day I'm convinced that they even set up a phone bank and had volunteers wildly answering calls in the background. $30 was raised and I took them up on the offer. I dropped my shorts and began the daunting task of cramming my stuff into a little girls bathing suit. I can assure you that I had honed no skill set for such a task and the going was a lot tougher than expected. My buddies thought it was hilarious and they were really carrying on. This caught the attention of everyone else that was still lounging on the boats. When they looked over to see me buck naked wiggling and writhing, well hell, let's just say it looked like a jail break as everyone came running up the beach for a closer view. There were plenty of women in the group, so I became highly motivated to complete my mission. Just before all arrived I was able to get the suit high enough to adequately cover my love making section, if you know what I mean. Of course, all the people with money in on this deal said that the suit needed to be up and over my shoulders. I now had a group of 20 routing me on. I was able to get one strap over my right shoulder, but I had to bend over quite a bit. I then stood up and bent over to the left. I got the strap over my shoulder and at this point, all I needed to do was stand up and I would be flush with the green. I didn't know if the suit would hold, clamp down on my jewels something awful, slam up my butt crack, etc. I slowly stood as the group watched on in horror. I'm pleased to announce that the suit held and that there was only limited discomfort in my nether regions. Everyone, and I mean everyone, laughed hysterically. I posed for pictures with anyone who wanted one, but this is the only one that I have left. There are still a few about that I see now and again on people's refrigerators. One "friend" even had some t-shirts made up. I think back on that one moment in time where everyone was laughing and smiling and I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments. Someday I may rue the decision, but that day isn't today. Hope you are smiling.

Johnny GoFast

Funniest thing I ever saw at a bike race was when some Spine guy was getting it from some other racer type. I was warming up for a crit which was the final leg of a Pilarcitos Stage Race a couple of years ago. The day before we did a hill climb and flat time trial. Maybe you remember the one. So I'm warming up watching some of the action and this Spine guy comes across the line to not only win the crit, but take the overall as well. He rolled up to his car and began to get dressed for a post race roll/victory parade around the Brisbane office park area. Some dudes came by and congratulated him. But one guy came up and started reading him the riot act about something or other. I wasn't really listening to the words as bikers tend/can argue about the silliest of things. This guy apparently took umbrage with the way the Spine guy had won. I have no idea what transpired during the race, but I found it amusing that the guy that won was getting hammered for winning. Another time I saw two go at it during registration. When I asked a buddy of mine what they were fighting about my buddy responded, "they're fighting about what ever it is road bikers fight about." I am not making generalizations here but (uh-oh...big generalization coming), it seems like there is a lot of angst within the ranks of road cyclists. I've tried to figure out why that is. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that most of us are well heeled type A'ers that didn't have a team sport growing up. Maybe we longed to belong for so long, that we never developed a social skill set between chemistry class and band practice. Maybe it's the solidarity of the sport, the countless hours spent training alone, that completes our ability to know all and gives us the power to instill this know-all into others...at volume if necessary...or so I've observed.

So luckily I've been hampered as of late. Otherwise my wings might be clipped for doing something wrong on the weekly team ride. Some loud air being expelled within the ranks of fellow Pegasaurus' due to an attack on the Sunday easy-pleasy ride. I've always been of the mind set that if people want to go hard on an easy day or easy on a hard day, let 'em. Some feel differently however and there are all sorts of fun-fingerpointage going on. Just another day in, "As the Pegasaurus Turns." Now go do the right thing and if you see somebody doing something counter to the flow, LET IT GO.

Johny GoFastunlessI'msupposedtogoSlow

So every now and again, (insert the deity of your choice here) gives me a glimpse of good things to come. Sort of like back in college when you had to stand outside of some bar waiting your turn to be stuffed into the fire trap. Every now and then the door would open and you'd get a look at everyone in there whooping it up, a snippet from some crappy but awesome when your hammered cover band cranking out just a bit of "Brown Eyed Girl" and then wham the door would shut. You stand there with nothing but anticipation and visions of the hot and certainly drunk chick that you spied across the bar when the door opened and shut to let another lucky winner through. Today for example, I had a great ride at lunchtime. No discomfort what so ever and I had nothing but positive thoughts racing through my head. Makes me wish I would have gotten off my depressed ass yesterday to race with the crossers, but we can't have it all. Maybe my mopiness yesterday lead (the deity of your choice) to throw me a bone. I don't know and I don't really care. Today's ride made me happy. I can't recall the last ride that I had where I was this amped when I got off the bike. A few years ago I was racing at the Sea Otter Classic. I was right behind Steve Ouzounian, a really good friend of mine and a terrific racer. I remember thinking that I was feeling great and that I was going the fastest I'd ever gone. Mind you that I wasn't beyond my comfort zone or even running my HR that high. What was so cool about the situation is that in the past, even if I wanted to, I couldn't keep up with the fastest guys. That was the first time that I had the speed to hang. Shortly after this revelation, I hit a bump and crashed pretty hard ending my day prematurely. But I distinctly remember thinking that I had the speed to hang, and that was something new. I'd seen through just a crack in an open door that I belonged. Today was similar. I'm pretty out of shape now and I've gained a lot of weight due to the layoff, but I got off the bike more motivated than when I got on, and if I can keep that going, I'll be fast in a few months.

Happy to report that we got the tree in one swing. I almost fell over. The wife pulled it out and gave me the sowhatsyouthink routine and I played along. With that she said, "well let's drag it up front and be done with it." Oh happy days. Got it in the house yesterday and it was decorated in less than an hour. The kids did most of the lower level ornament decorating and I got the upper quadrant. Only a few of the ornaments that I placed up front were later moved to the backside due to some sort of ugliness standard that I am keenly unaware of. The wife is mostly better at all those kinds of things anyway. Nice to have the tree up and dressed. The house looks festive as a result. In any event, hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

Kind a potpourri for you this morning. The little girl to the left is my daughter Maile and she was on fire this morning. I was in with the wife discussing plans for the weekend before I tripped off to the rockpile. Maile, looking for attention started to flick her hair about in my face. With that, I started to rock her back and forth and her hair started to fly about like any number of hair bands from the 80's. She loved it and wanted me to keep going but we were foiled by the Mama who implored us to stop with a, "Papa, that could lead to brain damage and she can't afford any." Good point.

So before the Rock Your Hair episode, I'm discussing the old Christmas tree plans. As many of my reader know, we are not the most devout of souls. We're in agreement that it seems quite a stretch for Jesus to be the son of God. And if I could have one conversation with anyone, I'd want to sit down with Mary and get to the root of how she pulled off the biggest whopper of them all. Immaculate is right when you are able to fool all of humanity. Anyway, seems a stretch that we would go all in for the Christmas thing, but we do. So she's on me about getting the tree tonight. Friday nights are tough. Long week, happy to be home, two great days ahead of me. Not exactly the night I want to go out and deal with sap and crowds and needles. Every year it's the same. My wife pulls out a tree for no earthly reason as it looks like every other. "What do you think about this one," she'll say. I'll look at it and say, "looks great. I'll carry it up front." With that she will put it back mumbling something about it not being quite right or some such thing. She'll pull out another one and the routine will start again. My response is always the same as I've never seen a tree I didn't like. By the third or fourth time, I don't even look which usually gets me right into the "fight zone." She'll lower the boom and I'll counter with a "to hell with it" comment. Ultimately, we will decide on the first tree we looked at and be on our way. Same routine every year. Not something I want to do on a Friday night. She has a lot of pull, that women, so it may not matter what I think.

To all of you on pins and needles, the dog is back. Seems a good samaritan picked her up on Tuesday and took her to Clear Lake with him. Apparently she had a great time on some farm up there chasing rabbits and deer and squirrels. She is absolutely wiped out from her vacation. We got her back last night around 5pm and she hasn't moved. No doubt she's already planning her next escape.

Want to race this weekend, but don't know if I can pull it off. I'm breathing okay and the ribs are healing, but not totally healed. Still have some discomfort in the region but it's not awful. I just fear what might happen if I fall. And if you fear the fall, you know what happens. You may see me, you may not. If not, have a great race. If you do see me, don't crash me out.

Johnny GoFast