Photo is of yours truly at the 2004 24 Hours in the Old Pueblo. I raced solo-single speed that year. I got sixth. Someone handed me a glass of draft beer immediately upon crossing the finish line. It just felt right.
Seems like a lifetime ago.
That was me on form. Lately, not so much. I’m never going to get a guest spot on the Jersey Shore looking like that. Where’s the hulking pectoral muscles? Where’s the fake-bake? Where’s the hair products?
It is a sad day in big jonny land.
At least I have ten miles of Commercial Law in front of me to wade through… You know what? I’d rather be racing.by