WallaWallaWalla

I spent 3 great days with the team over in Walla Walla for the big stage race. Still no racing for me so I signed on as the head cowbell ringer and chief jock strap (team supporter, fyi). What I thought would be a leisurely 3 days in wine country watching hot boys and girls race really fast turned into a jam-packed weekend of changing tires, fixing brakes, fetching bottles, clangclangclanging the cowbell, losing my voice from screaming, shopping for food, making dinner, and keeping a team of women strong and happy (not that they need much work there). It was a blast, but damn I was pooped. So much for hanging out on the beach like my doctor wanted me to. We rented a really plush house that came with a hot tub and I didn't get a soak until Sunday when everything was over! We did crack open a few bottles of the house wine, which was a plus. And the couch I claimed was exquisitely soft and comfy.

The caliber of racing was taken up a few notches and we all learned a lot, even from the sidelines. One of the best parts was watching our coach Kele spank the competition in the Pro-1-2-3 criterium. To watch a person you know with that much strength, speed, and endurance fly right by you is remarkable. And on top of that, she's able to goof off in the middle of the pack during the road race to wave to us jock straps as we clanged and screamed and waved like complete idiots along the side of the road in the middle of no where. Who said pros don't know how to have fun?

All pics here.