Distance: 70 miles
Terrain: Mostly flat
Conditions: Poor roads
Our PM flat out told us in the morning that we'd be getting racked at some point. Well, that doesn't exactly motivate us to want to work hard. They told us to just sprint as hard as we can to see how far we can make it. My solution? Become a sweep and get away with not having to work hard. My pace line was in total agreement. Kevin, Beau, and I set out at a leisurely pace for the day. We rode about 28 miles before we got racked. The first pace line only made it 35 anyways.
We were racked in order to make it to lodging and shower in time to make it to the Cleveland Indians baseball game. Not a bad reason to get racked if you ask me. We made it to the game on time and everyone had a lot of fun. At one point we all got on the big screen. By everyone, I mean everyone plus my shins. I was just one row off screen and by the time I figured out that the camera was even on us it was too late.
After a nap the team headed out to a park for a sponsored dinner. We had pasta and meatballs, played volleyball, cornhole, and decided to be "those guys" that go to the playground and hog all of the equipment while kids are around.
Once we got back to lodging, the guys over 21 went out and the minors were left alone - again. I don't mean to say that with a negative connotation though. We always have more fun. Our crew chief (the guy in charge of feeding us) said we had so much food that he actually needed our help depleting it. We all delved into it and made challenges out of what was in there. Guys were taking mouthfuls of gatorade powder and scarfing down gross concoctions of food. However, we weren't satisfied. The Fizzy Monkey challenge still had to be completed. It entails eating two bananas and then drinking a liter of Sprite. It's supposed to fill your stomach and react or something to make you puke. For some reason, we were all down with puking. We walked to the store and picked up the necessary supplies, and then went back to the parking lot of our lodging to participate.
The five of us brave enough to take on the challenge had at it. Everyone got their bananas down no problem. We began to chug our sodas and all of a sudden four cop cars rolled into the parking lot - lights blaring and all - and boxed us in. They did the "Well whadda we got goin on here?" tough guy walk and strolled up to us. One asked us what we were doing and we explained who we were, what we were eating/drinking, and that this is how we pathetically occupy ourselves when we aren't 21. They admired our cause and thought the Fizzy Monkey challenge was hilarious, so they stuck around for a bit to watch the pain continue. They joked around with us for a bit and then left. The challenge continued. Jason, our resident challenge expert, finished first. He did some pushups, ran a couple of lengths of the parking lot, and then did some jumping jacks. The rest of us just stared at him blankly, clearly thinking, "We hate you." We were in so much pain.
I finished second and went straight to the bathroom. Somehow, I didn't end up hurling. The three other guys did, though. Jason and I completed the challenge, and then all I wanted to do was go to bed. Thus, I did exactly that.
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