Sunday, November 1, 2009

Memoirs of a Geisha


So how did I come up with the costume? With one day left before Halloween, I raided my wives vast wardrobe. It's truly a magical place. I came across a leather coat and leather shorts from the 80's with all these wild colors. But what could I do with that? Next I found a sari. Should I go as Ghandi? I had the glasses, but I couldn't pull off a shaved head over a helmet. Next I found some authentic Japanese robes. I know I had white grease paint and a white long haired wig. Could I transform the white wig into a geisha's headpiece? Well, we all know what the answer is to that question. With two rubberbands, scissors, a can of black spray paint, chopsticks, and some fake flowers for color, a geisha was born! Tony Yashimoda.
While checking in to the 4A race my name was called and I corrected the official of my last name. On the final check to see if everybody was present, my name was called again and again I corrected the official. She got it the second time around. I have always liked this course, seeing that this is my third season riding it. I can definately say that was the most stakes I have ever run through or broken, inadvertantly and also on purpose. I think I made it through there cleanly only once and every time I went trough people were saying " which spectator is he aiming for this time?" Not everybody noticed, but one time after the single track that I went through the tape instead of going around the greasy turn I let the two riders past me who I unfairly passed. Out of the eight times I went up the hill I ran once. Outside of that, if you stayed far left you were fine. No real big problems outside of that. It just feel like whenever I get off my bike to run I feel like a clydsdale.
This was my first time doubling up. If it doesn't kill you the first time, might as well try again. I really didn't fare any better. I wasn't expecting another call up. I do appreciate that the organizers recognized the women in the race and flannel guy, and the other guy who goes nameless, but plugs away race after race. It's just nice to see that our cycling community is not full of itself and hospitable to every caliber of rider. So after a thurough washing I'm back to plain old Tony Rienks.