The race got postponed, my teammate had other plans for the rain date, I found myself without a dance partner. Or, more accurately, a partner to ride in the Men’s Duo division of Friday night’s Curse at the Crab 6-hour endurance race at Lake Crabtree.

Sit alone at home on the Friday night of a big race watching “Walker, Texas Ranger” reruns? Like, how sad is that?

Sadder still, I realized that this child of the ‘70s pick-up scene and really unpersuasive  lines (“Hi … . Hi.”) was about to be thrust into the modern world of internet hook-ups. For the past 15 years or so I’ve watched the development of these online bars — the eHarmonys, the Match.coms — and thought, “There but for the grace of God … .” Now, finally, on the eve of the big dance — or, again, in this case the last in the Triangle Off-Road Cyclists’ four-race endurance mountain bike racing series — I could either stay home in curlers and watch Laugh-In or I could put myself on the line, online. I logged on to the appropriate site for this kind of thing — the forums section of Trainglemtb.com — took a deep breath and opened up. I shared that I had been dumped, that I was looking for a new partner for Friday night, that whoever joined me should have no illusions of winning. Basically, that I was desperate. I hit the send button and waited.

Of course, the worst that could happen happened. I got a response from a fellow mountain biker that began, I have this friend … .

A blind date.

My palms sweaty, I picked up the phone and dialed “Ken.” His wife answered, and I tried to explain who I was and why I was calling. “Oh, yes,” she said after some dead air. “He mentioned something about this.” I was on the radar, I took that as a good sign. Ken wasn’t in; I left a message.

After hanging up, I was struck by how similar this call was to one I’d made more than 35 years ago. During a romantically desperate time in high school, a friend suggested that Karen Rothman might be willing to go out with me. (“‘Might be willing,’” I asked. “What does that mean?”) Karen and I didn’t know each other that well, so before calling, I spent way too much time thinking about how I wanted to present myself. I wanted to sound like a “guy” — confident, cool, expecting her to say yes — but not too much of a “guy” — not cocky, not conceited, not like I was expecting her to say yes. Most of all, I didn’t want to betray what this really was — a Hail Mary. Ditto with Ken. I didn’t want to give the impression we’d be competitive. I didn’t want to sound like a total loser, either.

Palms sweating, I dialed (literally; it was a rotary phone) Karen’s number. Her dad answered. I stumbled through why I was calling. He was less enthusiastic about taking my name and number, but did. If memory serves, I never heard from Karen.

I hope I hear back from Ken.

* * *

3.17.2010, 4:50 p.m.

Dear Diary,

Well, I heard from Ken — we’re a team! OMG, I got the impression from Sean that Ken hadn’t ridden much. Much lately, maybe!  He’s got an endurance race resume to die for. He’s done a bunch of team 24 hour races, including the Burn and a couple of Snowshoes, including the last one, which I did. We traded stories on that one — nice to have something in common before you actually race together.

Anyway, we agreed to race lap for lap. I’d hate to get out there and totally die doing double laps! I mean, again, it’s not like we expect to win or anything. Still … .  And, he’s got good lighting! What more could I ask for? We’re meeting an hour before the race Friday. So much to do beforehand — starting with cleaning my bike!

* * *

3.18.10, 6:24

Dear Diary,

OMG! Just realized I’m out of degreaser! Is there any more of a turnoff than a guy who shows up to a race with a gunked-up drivetrain? Ugh! Good excuse to swing by the new All-Star at Saltbox Village. Maybe get some of those blinky lights that go in your spokes, too. (Hey, it’s a night race!)

* * *

3.18.7:10 p.m.

Dear Diary,

So get this: Alan, my original teammate who dumped me, calls and says he can ride after all — provided I haven’t found another teammate. As a matter of fact, I tell him, I have found another teammate, thank you very much. And he has a lot — a lot — of 24-hour experience. “He should do fine,” Alan says. “He should do more than fine,” I say.

* * *

3.19.10, 6:25 a.m.

Dear Diary,

I’m fat. Seriously! I was lazing around yesterday thinking I was conserving energy for the race when it dawned on me I’ve been lazing around conserving energy and getting fat for the last month. And Ken will know immediately: You can’t hide a thing in spandex. And even if I could somehow cosmetically mask my condition, it’ll show once we’re on the course. Oh, it’ll show.

* * *

3.19.10, 8:15 a.m.

Dear Diary,

Just did a 30-minute ab workout. Like that will help at this point. And with three kids in the house why are there still Chips Ahoy in the cookie jar?