Chaz rolled up to our house on the crit course first and said, “Yeah I’m going to take a shower” and then sat down on our couch and didn’t say much.
Gradually, I made conversation about how the crit went.
“Yeah, after Redlands criterium I was so freaked and thought every lap was going to be hell but then it was so chill,” I said.
“Yeah, I missed my clip in like four times, went ham to get to the front, and then it was EZZZZZZZY.”
“Oh yeah, by the way, how did you do?”
“Idk, I think I got 10th or something.”
“TENTHHHHHHH PLACE!!!! DOOOOODDDD!!!!”
Chaz is a hell of a bike racer, but I’m pretty sure he’s never landed such an impressive result in a UCI race, so I didn’t know how he looks when he’s proud of himself. It turns out he downplays it and you have to drag it out of him!
Honestly, hearing about his result would have been the highlight of my night if the garlic bread at dinner hadn’t been so good.
Our Airbnb was right on the crit course. Every lap I my family stood on the fence and cheered their faces off.
My wife howled at me like a Coyote.
My mother-in-law took mad footy.
My son yelled “GO RIOOOO” and called lots of people not me “Dada.”
My daughter danced in her red dress.
It means the world, man.