Well, I am finally recovered from the Picacho Peak time trial on Sunday. I was warned by Amy not to do it because I was feeling under the weather, but would I listen? Nooooooooooo. Not me. I'm too tough to give up. To make a long story short, I stunk up the course. I felt I was doing okay until the 30 second man behind me, my buddy Dennis, passed me within the first 2 kilometers going by like I was sitting still. That didn't bother me too much since he is much stronger, but when the two Dutch tourists with loaded bikes passed me uphill into the wind, I knew it was going to be a long morning. I crossed the line, rode back to the car and almost passed out from dehydration. Oh yeah, did I look good.
I did have my daily "Three Fingered Frank" moment afterwards. I was so fragged I put my t-shirt on backwards. As I headed over to the convenience store to load up on water and gatorade, the girl parked next to me said, "Hey, I think your shirt is on backwards." I replied, "That's so I remember where I've been." Two points strike me in retrospect. One: That even sick, I am still a smartass. Two: I must have been in bad shape because at the time I thought it was a hilarious comeback.
Well, France is out of the Euro Cup. Italy beat them up in a 2-0 romp. Lowlights were Ribery hurting his leg 10 minutes in and Abidal getting the boot after drawing a red card in the 24th minute, so Les Bleus were at 10 men the rest of the match. I was proud that they held Italy to only 2 goals (they were lucky it was that low), one of which was helped into the goal accidently by Henry. The French threatened but could not make the shots. Oh well, I'll root for Germany Thursday in the match against Portugal. That should be a great game.