I don’t know about you but… I love to hate my fellow racers, to find something that just makes me want to stomp their guts into the ground.

You know it’s not hard to do.  I find a lot to hate about myself, for example.

But Smiley, Smiley just ticks me off to a whole new level.

First, he’s so damn nice and personable.  He’s a total giver in a sport filled with takers.  He’s that guy that brings the tent early, and takes it home late; that guy that helps you patiently fix a broken bike, even as his start time viciously approaches; that guy that asks how the family is, and the actually listens…

… and he does all this with the most beautiful pearly smile, UGH!

Second, when I told my coach about my goal to take him down she just nodded and said, “ya know, he was built to race mountain bikes; and isn’t he a nice man?”

… all without a hint of hope, #$%@!

But the real kick in the nuts, is when chatting Smiley up about an upcoming race and how svelte I am, how primed I am, how much I’m looking forward to racing the big guns like him…

… there isn’t the slightest doubt in his mind that I have no shot, NONE…

Smiley, the epitome of that guy you hate to love!