In the words of Dan Chabanov.
Room 715, Crowne Plaza Hotel Philadelphia
1 June 2013, 9:53 PM
Tomorrow I am gonna race my very first Philly Pro Race, I’m a little scared. And but excited too, I think. It’s always hard to be 100% calm when things leading up to the race haven’t lined up exactly how you wanted. You wind up feeling like you’re floating into the unknown, knowing some of the things you needed to control you haven’t been able to, e.g. crashing the week before a big race sucks.
If it wasn’t for the crash I would be calm-nervous instead of nervous-nervous. At this point in my career I don’t really get nervous for a race, I just go to my room, I attach my frame number, I put on my timing chip, I pin my race number to my jersey, I watch Awkward episodes and zone-out until I decide it’s time to go to sleep. I have my routine and that routine is what I normally channel all my nervous energy into, but tonight every time I get up to do something or walk around somewhere I can feel my knee, and so I then I starting thinking about my knee, and so now my knee is attracting all of this nervous energy making impossible to funnel that shit it into other more positive things. My knee is just sucking and talking trash, it’s like, “I’m your shitty fucking knee right now, suck it.”
I’ve wanted to do Philly ever since I knew enough about bike racing to know what Philly is.
hat’s kind of a stupidly large statement, but it’s true, and here I am. And I don’t care that it’s not the same promoter, and its a different Philly race and its a different course—that doesn’t fucking matter. It’s a pro bike race, it’s going up the Manayunk wall, it’s fucking Philly. For all intents and purposes, if it walks like Philly, if it smells like Philly, if it goes up the Wall, it’s Philly.