I just saw the last four laps of a bicycle race in downtown Burlingame. Real teams with uniforms and crews and everything. I have no idea who they were. It was fun watching the race though, especially at one point where I was waiting to cross the street at an inside corner when the race came around. They wizzed by less than three feet away. If you count the lean, it was more like eighteen inches. I thought at first I might be interfering with the race and started to step back, but then I realized I was already on the other side of a barricade. They were just cutting it real close.
By the end of the race I was sitting in the Mexican restaurant on Burlingame Ave. and Lorton near where the team pavilions were set up (Bay-area Mexican food isn't bad, but I really miss Sonoran style). None of the bikers looked tired. They had just completed a race at the end of a day of racing, and they all looked ready to start again.
It was sort of depressing. Reminded me of when I was in that kind of shape a lo-o-ong time ago.