A Cross-Country Skier’s Lyric
My ribs took a beating at Ashton last night,
And now they really ain’t right
So, give me buckets of ice and beer: ah, true delight.
My back is broken and bruised, but don’t worry about me,
Lookie here, I have some white pills you see.
Some for you, some for me, just don’t tell the IOC!
Forget ski cross and snowboard cross. The nordic sprints ARE the original CROSS!
I did not take part in the Iowa City Ski Race Series Tuesday night, but I did ski on the same near-Olympic quality course. Four painful laps on perfectly groomed snow. Each lap more painful than the previous. 48 minutes of wincing pain. Well, wincing pain is not really that bad on the painometer.
Speaking of pain. Check out Petra Majdic, who, like me, bruised her back during a fall in the classic sprints on Wednesday and had to fight through the pain.
Of course there are some differences between her fall and mine. First, I fell while walking to my car. Second, I fell on my computer. Third, my pain was my own pain, not hers. But there key similarities: we were both going to work. I was about to get into my car and drive to Kirkwood Community College, and Petra was going to work on her skis–which is her job.
Tonight I will try for 5 laps. This should be a serious test. I hope to ski a consistent 4 minuter per km. pace. Fat chance!
I’M FAMOUS!…. in a small town sort of way.
On the cultural front:
My sister lives in Brooklyn and sends me information on the world of kick-assedness. She turned me on to a Brooklyn artist called Santigold. She is marvelous. She rocks, She raps, she definitely deserves to be called a “Street Theorist”:
Santigold is so good, so unavoidably cool, that I am almost willing to give you, my readers, a money back guarantee. Almost.