Wait, what?

I'm not one for boasting, but I cannot hold it back any longer. I must say it:\nI am going to dominate this year’s Little 500.\nYes, I realize this is a bold claim, but I know that I can back it up. For when victory comes for my team and I – and it will, inevitably – I will truly be able to say that I’ve earned it. It has been an entire year of getting up every day at dawn to train; of eating nothing but wheat germ and raw egg smoothies; of cycling for hours in the burning heat, the freezing cold and the soaking rain; of dodging traffic and potholes; of blisters and chafing and strained muscles; of having no time for friends or family; and of abstaining from any and all substances that might pollute the highly efficient racing machine that is my body. But this weekend, when the team and I blow past our competitors, when the crowd roars to the heavens to proclaim us their champions, it will all prove to be worth it.\nYes, indeed, we will show our competition – especially those arrogant prima donnas, the Cutters. Sure, they might have won last year, but their victory has made them overconfident, soft even. Ever since the race’s move to Bill Armstrong Stadium, no team has won the Little 500 twice in a row – for she is a harsh mistress who punishes hubris with crushing defeat. And while the Cutters meander along, blissfully unaware, we shall blow past them – a tempest in spandex, furies on Schwinns. This year it will be our turn to bask in the glory.\nBut it is not for glory alone that the team and I race. No, we race for greater reasons. My teammate Ronaldo races to prove to his strict grandfather, a past champion, that he is heir to his family’s fine heritage. Baker, on the other hand, races to prove that one can defeat the demons of alcoholism and paint-huffing and show the world that even a two-time loser can be worth a damn. Me, I seek to win back my lost love, to convince her that all that time spent in training instead of with her was not wasted. And we all race to honor the memory of our late teammate Edgar, who recently succumbed to his injuries months after a tragic bus collision left him in the hospital, paralyzed. Finally, there is little Timmy, whose family has wagered its life savings on our victory so that they might finally afford the liver transplant that could save his life. We’re racing for you, buddy.\nYes, certainly I have the lung capacity, steely nerves and muscle tone for this race. But, most importantly, I have the heart. It might have been a year filled with sweat, blood and tears – but my victory lap shall wash it all away. No force in heaven or earth can stop me now!\nWhat? \nNo, I haven’t read today’s paper. Why do you ask?