I don't know about the end of the world, but . . .

Now if you’ve been following the news of late, there are a few points to be paid attention to. Sure, there’s the economy, the floods, the mid-east strife. You could focus on the playoffs or the fall of heroes. But if you’re joining us here this week, all those things pale in comparison, tonight we stand at the eve of the most important sporting event of the year – THE Train of Pain.

Thirty-four grown men; average age of 50; majority level of, oh, maybe 15. Or at least that was how it looked to the poor patrons of Pizza Rock, our kick-off dinner for the 5^th annual ToP. With the rollout of Sacramento, our poor state capital never knew what hit them as the riders arrived throughout the day.

This year’s ride will take us over 456 miles and more than 24,000 feet of climbing over 5-days.

There have been many approaches to the upcoming ride – as in the past years, there are not only bragging rights once you’ve completed the epic adventure, but also more importantly there is the all-important competitions.

To bring you all up to speed, there are six awards on the line.

The end-of-ride jerseys:

• Yellow for the overall strongest throughout the week
• Red for the strongest climber
• Green for the best sprinter
• White for the strongest new rider (first year on the ToP)
• Each day the Black jersey is awarded – this generally is handed out to someone that does something heroic, something silly, or maybe something just side of shameless

Finally, there is the “Team” competition. This is a perpetual plaque that is contested by San Diego, the OC, and the NorCal/Pacific Northwest.

This last award has been the focus of the day; well rea

lly the focus of the last month. No more so than for the boys from the OC – they have been honing their plans, choosing their points of attack, andmaking their game plan. In fact, rumor has it that there was a team meeting, a thorough power point, and some very stern direction!

YOU WILL ATTACK HERE . . .

YOU WILL ATTACK THERE . . .

As for the promised end of the world, well it seems the Rapture’s been delayed by the Train of Pain – course there’s always next year with that pesky Mayan calendar.