• CVLN CYCLOCROSS: Raw, race-ready poetry.

    In this world of drive-thrus, no-foam lattes, and hyper-convenience, there’s nothing rational about turning yourself inside out every weekend. But that’s cyclocross. Rude. Undefined. Painful.

    And, during lap three, when your heart is exploding, your legs are screaming, and your will is shot, you somehow find it within yourself to push even harder.

    Because the bell lap is coming, signaling the end of the race and the beginning of another rational week before you get to do it all over again.