Being sick stinks. I had to take the day off today because my skin hurts. And my hair hurts. Theraflu isn't even scraping the paint off of this one.

USGP is this weekend and I promised myself I'd race. But since it's already thursday night, I feel like hammered shit, and my bike is still encrusted in mud and horseshit from last Sunday's "festivities" (not to mention all of my muddy clothes are still wadded up in a plastic bag in the back of my car), it's not looking good for dude. Which is kind of a blessing I guess, considering it's going to be 34 degrees and raining (er, snowing) on Saturday, and I just don't think I have the huevos for it.

Sure, I should have spent all week running up and down the stairs at Mt. Tabor park with a bicycle on my back. But I didn't. I sat on my ass, pulling on a beer and looking out at the rain. I should have glued up some tubulars and figured out the optimal pressure for the slop-fest that will be PIR on Sunday (unless of course the mud is frozen, which it might well be at 8:30 in the morning. Did I mention that the C's race at 8:30 am? Fucking brutal). I should have at least tried to get the mud and afore-mentioned horseshit out of my derraileurs so that they might work again. Not on my "to-do" list, I guess...

There will be other options for those of us on the sidelines. Lots of booths, lots of beer, and some hairy cross racing to watch. Sounds okay to me.

Also, Joy Division: