. . . two . . .

Two weeks until Boggs.

I had a good training week. Even though I missed a day due to my son being home sick from school, I still managed to ride over 150 miles.

I ended up getting a motel room in Clear Lake for the night after the race. One of the things that has always bounced around in my head during my two previous 8-hour races was being too tired to drive home. It's about a 2.5 hour drive to Boggs, a little farther than I'm comfortable with. I'm pretty paranoid about driving tired.

Sleep and I have always had an uncomfortable relationship. The Sand Man visits, but never stays as long as I would like. (Case in fact: I have been up since 2 a.m. this morning.) I average five or six hours a night, sometimes less. Once a week, usually on Saturday night, I take an over-the-counter sleep aid, and it helps me catch up. I didn't take one last night because I have to drive in to work early this morning. Again, I'm very careful. Driving with the lingering effects of a sleep aid in my system isn't something I will mess with. I have a good reason to be so careful.

On February 21, 1986 I was driving home after classes at Sierra College and fell asleep at the wheel. The car rolled five times and I was lucky to walk away with fairly minor injuries.

At that time I was working full time, carrying a full load of classes, and riding as much as I could. It was a recipe for disaster, at least for me. I was trying to do too much, and there weren't enough hours in the day. So I sacrificed sleep, and I paid for it.

Anyway, all these years later sleep is still an issue, but I live with it. It's better than sleeping with the fishes.

Later.