CrossVegas

We got on the plane and headed to Nevada.
We touched down mid-day and it couldn't have been hotter.

We dined someplace French and ordered some soup.
It was full of salt and tasted like poop.

As we walked in the heat, I could feel myself age.
Holy crap, that hottie on the bike is Jonathan Page!

I thought for a moment about tossing my hair.
I remembered my age and did not dare.

I raised an eyebrow at some hipsters outside...
and snarkily thought, "Yeah, better to smoke than to ride."

We walked through the door and there were the bikes.
I exhaled loudly, "Hell yes, mama likes!"

We picked up our passes and took a quick look around,
then dashed out the door; we were Cross Vegas bound.

As Jay rode the course, I absorbed the sun.
If I could take a nap, tonight would be much more fun.

Looking at 'cross racers makes me excited;
as if it's my birthday and only hotness is invited.

The race goes off and then came the sound.
Hot men are piled on top of the ground.

Some were run over, as some could could not stop.
Over one spandexed ass went a magical bunny hop.

I ran to the sound to see if Jay was OK.
It could not be over; we'd come a long way.

Jay was gone, grinding his tires over grass.
I looked in amazement at the speed of his ass.

This race would be tough; he was racing with Pros.
These weren't his friends. They weren't his bros.

I ran the course with Patrick and Traci.
I'll tell you my friends, this 'cross shit is CRAZY!

My chest filled with envy as I watched them race by.
I didn't even mind when I got dirt in my eye.

I could not believe their ridiculous speed.
When I race my bike, you'd think I smoked weed.

I watched as Jamey dropped the whole damn field...
Then Chris exited the pit without the hint of a yield.

These two leaped barriers like reindeer on crack.
Then easily passed some guys dropped in the back.

As Jay raced by, I felt pride for my team.
I rubbed my kit sleeve and felt myself beam.

Fulcrum Coaching is here and not just part of the crowd.
We're grinding through mud and we're getting quite loud.

Another lap came around and there goes JPow...
The fans go nuts ringing the bells of the cow.

Driscoll beats Jones as if all this was breezy,
but let me assure you dear readers, this 'cross thing ain't easy.

Be ready to suffer and work on your speed.
You better like mud and be ready to bleed.