Silver Rush 50 Race Report, Part 0.3: Why We Wore the Floyd’s Jersey

07.16.2018 | 10:13 am

We were at the starting line, and I was excited to get started. I mean, just look at me:

Was I excited for this particular race? Sort of, I guess! But also, I was excited to just get the darned waiting over with and begin with the racing, already.

Because the time between when you wake up on the morning of a race and the actual beginning of that race is just horrible. If I could bottle up that feeling of anxiety and worry and dread and fear and then take a nice big whiff whenever it’s time to register for a race, that would absolutely stop me from every racing again.

All that said, I sorta kinda also knew that this wasn’t really a race with a lot of consequence for me. I couldn’t be upset by the fact that I’m slow this year, since I had no finish time to compare my current (fat and slow) self to. I wasn’t doing this race to move to a better placing in the LT100 starting line corral; the one I have is probably better than I need this year, since I’m (as I have mentioned) fat and slow.

As long as I stayed upright and didn’t have any mechanicals, there was no real downside to this race for me; it was just for fun.

By all means, please feel free to cue the “ominous foreshadowing” music here.

But First a Word of Explanation

Before I get to the start of the race, I want to show you something:

That’s me with Ken Chlouber, the founder of the Leadville Race Series. He spent the entire day ATV-ing from place to place on the course, cheering for racers. He was good enough to pose with me holding the shotgun he’d be firing to start the race.

The other thing I want to point out from this photo and the one before it, is that I’m wearing a Floyd’s of Leadville jersey at this race, and so is Lisa.

Here’s why.

My dad is getting on in years, and some of the changes that come with age and recent surgery have given him some pretty significant anxiety and trouble with sleeping.

Naturally, all of us who care about my dad wanted to help, but the VA — where he gets most of his medical care — wasn’t doing a lot to help him. And since my dad lives in Colorado, and knowing that marijuana can help people relax, and since I don’t know anything at all about marijuana (I have literally never smoked anything, ever, not even once), I texted Floyd to ask what marijuana products he’d recommend I get for my dad. (Or, more precisely, what my sister who lives in Colorado should get for our dad.)

Floyd and I exchanged a few text messages where he asked for (and I gave) more details, and then he said he’d have my dad try CBD oil as a first measure, which he thought my dad would appreciate because — like a lot of people from earlier generations — my dad attaches a negative connotation to marijuana.

I told him thanks and relayed the info to my sister, who planned to go to the Grand Junction dispensary to pick some CBD oil up.

But she wound up not needing to go, because the next day, Floyd had an employee — who happened to be going to Grand Junction for a race — drop some CBD oil off at her house.

It was a remarkable act of thoughtfulness.

I figured the least I could do in return would be to repay Floyd by showing up in Leadville and flying the Floyd’s flag.

PS: For people who might wonder how my dad is, I wish I could say the CBD oil solved all his problems. In the end, it helped some with sleep, but there’s more to do. We’ll get there. And meanwhile, that doesn’t change the thoughtfulness of the gesture.