Twas a cold and wet morning,
and all through the course,
Many cyclists were stirring,
T-hold out in force.
The first lap was grim,
From that hill at the start.
Stuck in a pile up,
The race fell apart.
Broke free from the mess,
chain in the big ring.
Raised my head over time,
To see such a thing!
Two men up ahead,
and the rest behind me.
The dig had paid off,
securely in three.
Over time more dudes came,
and joined the group.
To battle it out,
through the mud and the soup.
I fell off the back,
for a bit on lap 4.
But fucking sacked up,
cause I wanted to score.
As the bell lap came round,
the pace did get quick.
Guys fell off the back,
they just couldn’t stick.
I missed the big sprint,
for a win at the line.
But fuckin’ a boys
Third place is just fine.
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