Brabantse Pijl

I came back home this morning, finding a note on the floor in the hall way. It was in Jan's inreadabile handwriting and to make it more challenging, he had used a dying pen.

"I am off to ........r..ce..., you... phone me"

Knowing that the Brabantese Pijl (a classic one day cycling race in spring) was starting this morning, I assumed he had decided last minute to go and watch the start. When I phoned him, he told me to rush as they'd leave the city centre any minute.

A quick calculation told me that they'd be passing by a crosspoint 4 blocks away from us, while they had to race a 6 blocks themselves. Without taking the time to realise this was hopeless anyway, I jogged away in the pouring rain. While approaching the crosspoint I heard the police whistling while managing the traffic. That seemed a good sign.

But when I arrived and saw the busy traffic going by, I realised that I was late. Jan's phone call could only confirm so. The only thing I could do is turn around and walk back home in the pouring rain. Jan fortunately did have some pictures to show me what I had missed.

Lesson learned for next year: I jog 4 blocks much slower than professional cyclers race 6 blocks!


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