Well done to all the Argus finishers, and even some who rode all the way round, then stopped in Camps Bay, had food and beer and then decided not to finish...all good.What's with the wind howling on an Argus Sunday and not a breath of wind on the preceeding Sat or the folowing Monday? 2 years in a row that has been the story with the second Sunday in March, and both races have been cleaned up by the Medscheme boys from up country, to nobody's surprise. Like Lance was gonna beat Malcolm in a sprint...whatever.
Quite frankly I'm relieved he has left. Great champion that he is, or rather was, but enough is enough. Geez, we are pathetic in our groupie-ness in South Africa. Anyone remotely international comes out here and we flock and salavate to see the person in flesh. People riding one direction, turn their ride plans upside down, do an about turn and sprint up the road, so they can tell people they rode with Lance Armstrong. In my book, not having a chat and a laugh and sucking wheel staring at someone's arse for 30km doesn't quite crack it (pardon the pun) to qualify as a great ride, even if it is staring at the arse who buried many great riders on the steep Cols in his hay-day. Come on people, have some self respect.
When I bowled to Sachin Tendulkar, I didn't bowl the ball, salivate on the pitch, stare at him like I wanted to get a room and them bewilderdly make my way back to my run-up. Great that he is, he is still just a person, not different from all the others in the world. Respect him for his ability, but I just feel we got into God mode here with Lance and worshipped him a littl bit too intently. Use it, don't use it, just an opinion. Maybe when Contador tidies up Lance and his 3rd TDF people will stop with all that silliness.
My diohorrea all weak didn't help my confidence going into the race and I would have been happy to ride over lots of glass and puncture near the start and just go home, but it wasn't to be. I again wanted to get off my bike at the top of edinburgh drive, Boyes drive, Simon's Town, all the way to Chapman's Peak, which was where I found some fluidity and good legs and got going. I had plenty at the end and didn't even line the sprint up and still came tenth. It's such a laugh that that is where I finished, as was never at any point remotely interested in racing or where I came, but felt obligated to ride it as had bailed the year before in the howling gale. It hopefully annoys a lot of the more serious cyclists that I got a top ten placing and they didn't. I giggle every time I think about it..
The Saturday leg loosener ride was perhaps even more dangerous than the event itself, and cannot believe some people didn't get wiped out on the roads with the stupid things I saw taking place and the amount of cyclists that were out and about along the Atlantic Seaboard. Maybe there were some casulalties, as saw a few ambulances screaming by whilst I sipped my Cappuccino at Vida in Camps Bay...
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