This goes out to you Mr Team Racer living large and looking PHAT on your high-zoot cross country steed. You have fresh legs and clean shorts and you smell like you just came out of a Beverly Hills Salon.
You storm out of the transition area like your ass is on fire and your hair is catching and you are hell-bent on total domination. Ahead is a lone figure pushing a massive gear and going nowhere fast. With his head hung low and a thousand yard stare, the solo guy moves like a robot.
Sure we are slow and we smell bad. We are dirty and have trouble hearing you over the music, the oh so sweet and sanity preserving music coming from our Ipods. We irritate you because we are in your way. You huff and puff and you try to push around in places where you can't pass because you can't bear to wait for ten feet to pass and the trail opens up. Keep in mind for every lap you do, we do 4 and we are more than happy to get out of your way because we'd rather be left alone to suffer in slow, stinky silence than be bothered by someone reeking of Axe.
So have respect for the solo guy Mr Team Racer for one day it may be you in someone's way.