Slaying Equahatltketly

Fresh off a strong night playing video-games and slaying zombies by the dozens, Jacob found himself standing in a cool valley outside San Marcos, ready to slay a hill climb TT by the…single. The locals called it ‘the man-maker’ the Spanish conquistadores called it ‘la Montana de piernas infuegas’ and according to native Indian legend, it was the resting-place of a god of cycling who drank lactic acid out of your thighs like milk from a coconut. According to Jacob however, it was ‘overrated’

Jacob went from the gun, then remembered it was a time trial, and went a bit harder. At the bottom though, he was caught by Taylor Phinney.


Jacob: Taylor? Long time no see, I like the track bike.
Taylor: Oh hey, Jacob, thanks.
Jacob: So what brings you here? I thought you did mostly track stuff.
Taylor: Yeah, I do. But since this is only 4 or 5 minutes long, it was right up my alley.
Jacob: Oh, that does make sense.
Taylor: Yeah, it-

At this point they both became blurs in the flat section to the finish.

Jacob: So as I was saying, what with the stock market the way it is, and the anticipated tightening of grip on our economy, I think that-

Then it ended. And they were capable of being caught in still motion again.

Jacob: That was it?
Taylor: Yep, I love short stuff like this. Want to cool down for the next two seconds together?
Jacob: Uh…

Taylor: Done, thanks. I’m headed back to Colorado if you want to come.
Jacob: I’ve got to do the Crit this afternoon.
Taylor: Oh, me too. We’d make it back in time.
Jacob: Uh…no thanks, I’m good.
Taylor: Later.

Bewildered by the hummingbird-like life of a trackstar, and sore from expostulating on the economy at 185 bpm, Jacob cooled down some more. He wound up finishing 12th out of 20 or so, which made him somewhat regret slowing down to chat with Taylor, but then again, what’s a conversation among friends compared to 40 seconds on a TT?