Marathon packet pickup

I tried to get some of my lazy friends to get out of bed and come with me to my race expo, but they were having none of it. In fact, I got called some not very nice names for my efforts.

To make matters worse, even my GPS was being squirrely and refusing to navigate. It definitely gets melancholy during rainstorms and is distant and unresponsive. You may think that this is because of the cloud cover obstructing its communications with the positioning satellites, and if you do you are right but not imaginative.

I could have joined my GPS unit in being despondent, having been abandoned by my human friends much like it was cut off from its electronic satellite friends, but nay. I have a great deal of hurting to do tomorrow and spirits must be kept up.

So I stopped off for some coffee and then headed to the Georgia Dome in a downpour.

Soon my GPS perked up and we mounted the Great Atlanta Divide known as Peachtree St. It runs along a ridge downtown, giving the heart of the city a feeling of having been built on a roof with Peachtree St as the peak.

Once at the Dome, I was politely robbed of ten dollars for the privilege of parking in their mostly empty wet smelly parking deck. The lady at the window said “How are you today?”

“I’m gettin’ fleeced.” I said

She laughed politely. I parked and had a lengthy slog outside in the rain trying to find the correct entrance to the dome.

Inside I skipped the line to find my bib number as I already knew it. and went straight to the window at the far end with the low numbers. I picked up my bib, which had a disposable timing chip attached to the back.

This is my first race with the new style of disposable chip. It’s pretty awesome. I bet all you people who bought chips to use personally feel kinda silly now that they’re handing these things out.

Hopefully this technology trickles down to all races and we all get chip times and detailed splits on everything.

As I was handed my bib I realized I had specified that they put the name “Napoleon” on my bib in my race registration form. There it is, right on my bib. Napoleon.

So despite my feelings that the French are a little too prickly about their bicycle racing, I am running this one as Napoleon.

Vive la France!