It burns.

I really feel last night's 40/20 workout. Or maybe what I'm really feeling is the night of traipsing about in a short dress and Fluevog heels. Audrey and I hit up an open bar event that commenced with donning "costumes" of an arrow-through-the-head for me and a mustache for her. The night ended when we found the errant mustachio stuck to the bottom of her shoe. (She promptly removed said mustache and dropped it in a El street musician's case. The musician thanked her, then asked what it was.) I can also report back definitively that the general public does not notice any difference between compression knee socks and normal knee socks. (Or, possibly, they're so used to seeing me in knee socks that they don't even think about it.)

I'm signed up to race the Chi CX on Sunday, but I think I'll end up doing the Wisconsin race tomorrow, too. The lure of the MWI crowd is just irresistible.

And... I decided this week that what Sasha said about Crisco last fall was not a joke. Pam works for just a lap or two, then wears off. Crisco, that stuff would stick. I need to try it, maybe this weekend on my bike.