A Vicious Itch

I’m sick of you, Tour Divide.  You’re a demanding, high maintenance bitch.  There, I said it. 

Wait!  I’m sorry, Tour Divide!  I didn’t mean that….please don’t break up with me!  It’s just that, well, for almost two years now…two looooong years…. I’ve practically dedicated my entire life to you.  I get up at 4:30 AM and train in muddy, freezing conditions for you before work.  I leave my family on weekends so I can drive to Hellandback, Texas and simulate you.  I pour my hard earned wages into buying shiny new gear and bike components to please you.  I write about you all the time, I talk about you incessantly, and I’ve risked and sacrificed so very much as I struggle to meet up with you on June 11th, 2010.  And you just sit up there, in Canada, doing nothing.  You haven’t bothered to call me ONCE.

Most humiliating, though, are the looks and the whispers of coworkers and acquaintances who don’t understand my love for you.  Oh, I hear them behind my back…they think I don’t hear them, but I hear them:

“There’s that nut whose gonna race a bicycle across the whole country in the mud, and there’s not even a prize for it.  What does he see it that race?  It’s totally taking advantage of him.  No, I’m not gonna tell him, YOU tell him.”

I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Tour Divide.   I’m tired.  I’m tired of all the riding and the dieting and the buying of all the fancy new XTR cassettes and Nanoraptors for you.  What do I get in return, huh?  More waiting, that’s what!  I used to be happy with the physical rewards I was getting from training, but they have been empty and hollow as the weeks go by without you.  I’m only getting older, Tour Divide.  I can’t keep doing this…I’m sick of it.  I need to know where this is going. 

Look, I WANT you.  I want you badly!  I have a vicious itch that only you can scratch, Tour Divide.  But you have to scratch soon, and HARD, and you have to use both hands.  Or feet.  Or bear claws.  Or whatever the hell you scratch a fella with.  Because all of this waiting around is driving me fucking crazy.  And to borrow a staple from the great Dave Barry, “Vicious Itch” would be a great name for a rock band.  Ha ha, Tour Divide.  Ha ha. 

Hold on a second….I think I know what this is about.  You’re jealous, aren’t you?  You’re jealous that on 5/8 I’m going to compete in the Texas Chainring Massacre, which was postponed from its original date of 3/21.  You think that I’ve been training all this time just for the little old Massacre??  No, Tour Divide, no!  Look, the Massacre means nothing to me!  I mean, I’m going to do her, and I’m gonna ride all 116 miles of her as hard as I can, but I wouldn’t even be doing it if not for you and the inspiration you’ve given me!   Seriously, how could I ever love that little bitty race more than you?  You’re much longer and curvier, and your scenery is infinitely more beautiful.  (grrrooowwwlll!)  The Massacre is just a one time deal, I promise. 

So, what do you think?  Can we make this work?  How about we meet each other halfway?  You make time go by faster somehow, perhaps by inventing galactic wormholes, and I’ll catch the next plane to Canada.   What do you say? 

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