A new kind of race strategy

 As Rider 3 mentioned in a post earlier this week, the first races in eastern Washington begin this weekend. Yes, some riders here have already chosen to drive six hours each way to take part in office park criteriums, but I got over doing that a long time ago.
 
For this reason, and others, like say our abysmal winter, the fact that I have a four year old and an exceptionally busy job, my training has been a few standard deviations to the left of consistent. In any case, I’m really, really far away from being in racing shape. And I don't mean that in a "I'm really out of shape, but watch me slay all this weekend. Seriously, I'm not in very good race shape.
 
Rather than making the choice that I know some riders (i.e., Rider 3) are making to skip this weekend’s festivities, I’m considering an alternative. And no, I’m not going to mix up a sweet cocktail of EPO, insulin, testosterone and whatever other oxygen vector drugs I can find.
 
I am, however, considering a chemical alternative. One that will leave me extremely tranquilo.
 
That’s right, I’m thinking about taking rohypnol right before the start of the road race. If you’re not familiar with “ruffies” it’s a drug kids take (or give to others) to induce short-term amnesia. Thanks to many a nefarious frat boy, rohypnol has earned its nickname as the date rape drug.
 
So here’s the plan: I’ll ruffie myself (is this a verb?) and save myself all kinds of long-term emotional damage. I think this is a great solution. I’m pretty sure that I’ll need to push myself into the stratosphere of hypoxia just to keep up with the main group. This will be absolutely unpleasant, and the memories and recollections of this weekend’s racing could very well lead to a long-term relationship with a psychiatrist, or at least a psychologist. Maybe even a Buddhist, botanist, plagiarist or someone else whose profession ends with an ist.
 
Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still work hard and get the long-term benefit of destroying myself. I just won’t need to remember it.

I know, I know, there’s so much you get to learn about yourself in a race. Suffering builds character and all that jazz. But you know what? Suffering is far more enjoyable when you’re in shape.
 
But I digress. There are other benefits to my ruffies strategy. For example, you know those rides where your “friends” recount again and again that time in the race when they made their move and shattered the group, while also pointing out that was where you were spit out of the group faster than Dick Cheney would run from a gay bar? Well, I’ll be able to cut off that chamois sniffing conversation as soon as it starts. “Sorry, I don’t remember it at all.”

In case I can’t score any ruffies in time for the weekend, I’ll instead pray for horrific weather. Screw it. Let’s go all in. Bring on the wind, the sideways rain, a hailstorm or two and a few strongmen sticking it in the gutter. If I’m going to suffer monumentally so should everyone else, right? And really, the harsher the conditions the better I usually fare.

Until then, here’s to ruffies.