I was drinking a vegan milkshake at Sweet Action with Eric, when it started to snow. "There's no way in fucking hell I'm racing in that shit," I thought. And it kept coming. An hour later, and a couple beers in, I was still slightly tempted to race, yet debating the factors; "Well, the snow is melting when it hits the ground. Not too much wind... " I talk to the bartender about my hesitance, "Two shots of whiskey will set you straight," "I've already had one!" I holler back.
I sign up with a little arm twisting from Jacob. Thirty seven racers in all. Fifteen minutes until the start, manifests are distributed. I give the first few checkpoints a scan: Cheeseman Park, Bar Bar, The Denver Skatepark. I can do this. "Broox, how much time 'til the start?" "NINE MINUTES!" So I head inside to my bag, get my jacket situation square, choose which pocket I'm keeping my manifest in and how it's folded. Gloves, check, ipod, check, phone (for emergencies), check. Head to the start with seconds to cue up '3 Inches of Blood' and "GO!"
We take off from 3 Kings, heading north on Broadway. Right to Lincoln, Right on 3rd, Left on Logan, Right on 6th, I sprint to the head of the pack and I was stuck. Fuck, is it Franklin? SHIT, which street is it!? Then I saw my buddy who lives near Cheeseman sprint up Lafayette and I follow up the hill. Roll into the park, run up some steps, purple stamp, done. Read More