In a drug induced sleep last night, brought on by a bad head cold (too much travel already this year spending time inside tin cans like planes and subways, which are really just very large Petri dishes) I had a great dream about Liege-Bastogne-Liege. I was on a team with Tom Boonen, probably brought on by seeing his Roubaix winning bike in the lobby of Specialized last week. We were in a break with Gilbert, Cancellara, and Thor (sorry Champ, I would rather have been on your team) and we had them all deep in our pockets. I kept yelling at “Tornado Tom” that if he didn’t keep pulling hard (as I sucked the life out of his rear wheel) he was going to loose the name Tornado and be renamed “Breezy Boonen“. He started crying because I was shouting so much, and we had to stop at the side of the road to calm him down (watching Fabian wave and ride off into the distance), and promise I wouldn’t call him “Breezy” in the press room after. I then had explain to my DS (Van Petegem, gulp) why I had made big Tom cry….
Man I LOVE Tylenol PM. If anyone is having similar drug induced cycling dreams, PLEASE SHARE. Tonight we dream of the Tour, me and “Big Mig” taking on Delgado and Pantani. I then woke this morning to find an email from Jenny at Freebirdvelo about this new t-shirt, spooky.