Last weekend, I innocently donned my lovely red tights and jersey and rode down to the start line of the Mars Hill prologue of the Summit Center Classic stage race in Flagstaff, AZ – my hometown.  I warmed up, rode up the hill a few times, and chatted on the start line.  Suddenly, one of the AZ road racing girls came rushing up to me and asked, “Do you know who is here this weekend?”  Um, I dunno, Tom Boonen?  Um, maybe Cipo?  How about Melanie Meyers?  Oh yeah, baby.  Anyways, that’s not what she wanted to tell me.  “Jeannie Longo,” she screams at me, “Jeannie freakin’ Longo.”  Poor me, little mountain biker that I am says, “Who is Jeannie Longo?”  It must have been the early morning prologue start-time and the high altitude that made me forget.  She’s regarded as one of the winningest women to ever ride a bike.  I mean, if you have more than one world championship jersey and more than one Olympic gold medal, people start might start to notice you.  She has more than ten of each or something obscene like that.  WOW!

Anyways, as it turns out, she was in fact, racing against unsuspecting little me.  She tore my legs off.  Oh, and did I mention she brought a teammate – Pitel Edwige.  I hear that she also has one of those white jerseys with the colorful bars on it.  No biggie.  To be honest, for a few hours I was kinda bugged.  What, did they come here to steal the prize money or something?  Buggers.  But then I realized that I might never have another chance to race against one of the most amazing women the sport of cycling has ever seen.  When Jeannie Longo attacked, I did my best to respond, but while boogers were streaming out of my nostrils and I was going cross-eyed, she just glided past me without batting an eye in the most lady-like way.  It was an honor to have my ass kicked by Jeannie Longo.  Until next time, adieu.