There was a sand pit on Sunday, in Carpentersville. There was a ten meter long sand pit, and it was too long to bunny hop. I tried to bunny hop into the sand pit, and while I didn't fall, I did lose both of my shoes.
But I was in the lead. I was in the lead of a lap versus some teammates after all of the races had ended. And being in the lead, I wasn't about to allow a tiny detail like riding in sock feet slow me down.
But I did slow down, and it probably wasn't because I was in sock feet. I would like to think that it was because my feet don't have Eggbeater cleats in them, but that's not the reason. If my feet had Eggbeater cleats in them, they wouldn't hurt as much today, or have nice purpley bruises in the shape of Eggbeater pedals on the soles.
I slowed down because I was tired, and because cyclocross is kind of difficult, and even though I'd already cut a corner or three off the course, Brian was gaining, because even though Brian doesn't cut course corners, and even though he'd already raced earlier the day, and even though this wasn't a race at all, he's faster than I am on a bicycle. That, and his shoes didn't fall off in the sand pit.
But to add insult to injury, as he passed me on the back stretch behind the double barrier run-up, I saw that, in fact, Brian had stopped in the sand pit. He must have stopped in the sand pit, because as he rode up besides me, he waved my left shoe. "You dropped this back there," he said, giggling. I could see that he wasn't breathing hard, so I tried to look like I wasn't breathing hard. "Thanks," I said, coasting a bit while I slipped the shoe back on.
And then, he was gone.