Reading the definition of McMansion Masters on Nega-Coach was even funnier after completing my first masters race of the season. The first race with the old guys is always who’s gonna cramp first. Or a big-effort suddenly reeled back with a desperate realization that, “whoa, not quite ready, better back right off … .”
My cramp was a twanging hamstring and I imagined it looking like a guitar string, buzzing after a hard, Peter-Townsend type power-cord strum. It was one pedal stroke away from snapping and I spun like a spin class, at the highest cadence I could to stay with the group. I finished the race favoring my right leg and was relieved it was over.