jamie's wanderings

So....the story of Tony Gallopin continues...and I think it's appropiate to recount it here. After his day of wearing the yellow jersey and supreme suffering, they all had a rest day. He told everyone later that he sat down with his father, a former pro cyclist, and his fiancee, a pro cyclist as well, and looked at what the next day's race would look like. They realized it was going to be a lot harder than what the race organizers had stated it would be. So..the played it out, and yesterday, Tony let his legs get used to the bike, and stayed with the pack, then broke away 5km before end. He sprinted so hard UPHILL, that no one could chase him down, and he won the days stage, placing him now 5th in the overall standings, 3 minutes and a little bit behind the Grand Nibabli.  This gutsy little cyclist is inspiring me, as much phsycially as metaphysically. To have seen his face of extreme suffering, my heart cried out for him. I didn't get to watch the Tour yesterday bu

I know this blog has been long forgotten in the last several months, but today I want to revisit it. First, I have this feeling,and it's been hard to describe, until today. Today, Andrew and I watched the last few minutes of today's stage of the Tour of France. This is a grueling 3 week race that most Americans didn't know existed until Lance Armstrong dominated the scene. Andrew and I weren't ever fans, until we started to become weekend warrior cyclists. We do some cycling and understand a small portion of what these incredible men do. One rider today, Tony Gallopin, wore the yellow jersey. He only wore it for today, and he worked so hard to be true to it. He called today's stage, "Four hours of suffering" as these men tried to in pouring rain and then a huge climb up Le Planche des belles filles. He got to the end, not first, and had to relenquish his yellow jersey. They showed him being stopped after the fnish line, dripping sweat, snot and tea