|Liz Lukowski Glitter Bomb by Jon Nable|
|WWCD by Meg McMahon|
|Myette in Beast Mode by Meg McMahon|
|Lesli and Jesse by Meg McMahon|
We get to the Danger Zone and it is pure Chaos. Last year's Danger Zone was wild. Someone had put Roman Candles on the barriers. Now this sounds very dangerous. It isn't. Not if you have half a brain. It is a classic example of threat analysis. You know what is more dangerous than Roman Candles? Physio balls. Or Yoga Balls. Or in this case Sex Balls. Thanks PDX. So I somehow get through alive. Lots of ass slaps and cheers. Shouts of "GIVECHIPTHEGOODSTUFF!!!" I love all y'all but I am #sportsdad. And I had places to be after this little shindig. Dad can not show up to a hockey game later that evening smelling like booze and drunk (or high) off the "good stuff" Its not the '80s anymore. Sorry. For this Weasel I was keeping my drinking to a minimum. A pre-race Rolling Rock and a post-race bourbon ball. That was it. I was high off the race trust me. I didn't need supplementation. Things settle in a bit for a lap. I am just loving the course and having a great time. I get down near the river and see a frenemie who beat me last year on this course. He was a target. I was excited to see him. Until I see him hit the deck and look like he just broke his leg. I don't think I have heard screaming like that before. As he is writhing on the ground in pain and screaming. My brain sort of refocuses and things slow down. I am going about 18 mph. I am about to hit him full on. Usually racers get off the course. Then he grabs his bike and the wheel is heading right towards me. I somehow either hop the wheel or get around it and somehow don't die.
|SSCX Viking by Meg McMahon|
|Welcome to the Terror Dome by Meg McMahon|
|Clothing optional by Meg McMahon|