What's black and white and red all over?

A newspaper.  Without any pictures.  Like this.

So hide your mock surprise because there's more.  Seven years ago I dumpstered a pair of carhart shorts.  Too ugly to wear, they were promptly ripped and resewn into a skirt.  Being a skirt, with nothing to chaff on a saddle, this article of clothing has stood the test of time.  Appropriate rockabilly wear?  Probably not.  But still, this is what I'm wearing.  I have, however, topped it it with some very classy hair and makeup, so it's flying under the radar.

Nationals was last week.  I did manage to dress appropriately.  It's easier with nice weather.  LA felt like a balmy Oregon fall, as opposed to the real fall we are going to be looking at pretty soon here for the next seven months.  You know it's coming.  And I certainly need to figure out a coat situation.  But back to Natz.  Bringing curlers to our vacation rental full of racers trying to pump up for the next challenge seemed a little over the top.  I opted, instead, to sleep in big, bouncy pin curls.  Worked like a charm!  And my hair loved the weather!  Not so much the pain in the ass of setting my hair after each dip in the ocean, but life goes on.

I understand that team pride is an important thing to exhibit when standing on the podium, but I sure wished I could have dressed up a little.  I did what I could, but it didn't turn out looking so hot.  I will never try to make my hair look "nice" again.  It just looks out of place being down.  Like a gym teacher in pumps.  Again.  But standing on the podium, in my bright red ballet flats, felt pretty damn good.  Last year I was only next to the podium in the team sprint, but this year Nissy and I clocked in at third and got up onto a step!  I won a metal last year, but nobody knows what you call the metal for 5th.  3rd, however, is Bronze.  Say it with me.  Bronze.  Pretty swell.  I had practiced trying to punch it hard out of the last corner, to drop my second lap rider off at the highest possible speed.  During the final (which was .7 seconds faster than our qualifier!) I got it into my head that acting like I was at the bottom of a particularly hard squat might make that last burst a little faster.  Trying new things during a race is rarely a good idea, but something worked.  Right as I was starting to see my final straight, I took a big breath, tensed everything like I was pushing against a belt, and poured everything I had into getting my legs to spin as fast as possible.  I shot out of the corner and dropped Nissy off a lot faster than before.  That felt really good.  So I either owe my stellar start to that or to Per and my recovery ride in a pedal boat the day before.  Pelicans, anchovies and sea lions, oh my!

Photos to come soon.  Hopefully.