Gateway to the Midwest

I love the city of St. Louis. I know, it's not exactly an exotic destination. There are no beaches, no mountains, no big city excitement of a Chicago or NY. But I love it just the same. We have gone there every Labor Day for the past four years, of course to attend bike races, but also because it's a fun place to take the kids. I'm trying to do one new thing with them every year that we go, in addition to all of the racing action. Friday night is a party atmosphere with a night race around a beauty of a neighborhood, big old brownstone-types and a gorgeous park in the middle, Lafayette Square. Residents set up garden parties with wine and cheese to watch the races. I drank sangria, mmm. Velo-dude raced while there was still daylight, so we got to watch the drama of the night races as a family. Saturday am was a bummer, velo-dude crashed hard in his race and was pretty beat up for the rest of the weekend, but we still took the kids swimming at the hotel later, did a little shopping, had a great dinner, made the best of it. Sunday velo-dude decided not to race, so no hurries. Had a great leisurely breakfast, went to the zoo, and showed up for the last half of the race day to cheer friends on. Race action was on The Hill, charming Italian neighborhood and again, the neighborhood gets into it. Kids tried Thai food for the first time that night...it went about as well as I expected. Won't be trying that again for a few months (years?), so I'll have to continue to get my Thai fixes with work lunches. Monday was my favorite...downtown St. Louis was bustling. After some hem-haw about racing (more below on that), velo-dude did it, raced strong, finished upright, so a success. Then I took the boys to the arch, went to the top, checked out the museum below, and back to the race venue. By this time the excitement was beginning to brew for Stage 1 of the Tour of Missouri. Okay, I admit it, I get a little starstruck at this. We were able to watch 3 circuits of the 10-circuit race, before deciding we had to get the boys home at a decent time for school the next day. And we'll see the final stage this Sunday, what more could a girl ask for? See, much of the time, I gripe, whine, and poke fun of all the bike racing geekiness that is my husband, but deep down, I have a little of the geek in me as well.

The hem-haw, of which I unwittingly played a role...Sunday night, velo-dude was discussing whether he should try to race Monday. He was reluctant, because he is sporting a very deep knee wound from the crash, and really did not want to go down and damage it more (what with 'cross season looming and all). So, when we see his friend about an hour before the race, J asks why he's not gonna do it, and he hem-haws with an answer, so to facilitate the conversation, I jump in with "he's afraid he's going to do more damage to his knee". Helpful, right? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! As we walked away from J, he said that if his other friend M wasn't going to take his number and race, he would use it himself, especially after I called him "chicken". . . Huh? Did I miss something? I honestly had to retrace my steps to that unfortunate word choice, "afraid". I could have easily said "he doesn't want to do more damage to his knee", and I think it would have been fine, but the minute I said "afraid", the testosterone kicked in. Yes, he raced alright. I'm going to have to remember this trick; should be able to use some reverse psychology to my advantage the next time I want something. Perhaps I should suggest that the bamboo floor project frightens him? That he is too chicken to open the boxes of flooring that have sat in my dining room for 4+ months? That the nasty stained pressboard floor that proudly shows its ugly face every day in my living/dining rooms is braver than he? Hmm, I'll have to work on it.

In the meantime, have I mentioned that I love St. Louis? And, yes, bike racing?