By Sunday I had become a first rate ass, we all know that's not much of a stretch for me but there it was. It's been a rainy weekend and I had this need to get on my expensive bike and do something on it. So around 12:30 I get on the bike and go, attempting to do twelve miles before more rain hit.
I was such a TOTAL jerk that my son offered to go with me and I blew him off. I pray I don't ever make that mistake again! I'm pretty sure he didn't mind being let off the hook but still...
I drop by a buddy's house to see if he want to go and unclip incorrectly falling on my right side, skinning my knee in front of two giggling teenage boys. I deserve it, karma is not my friend at the moment. Anyway my neighbor declines and I head out.
I get about halfway before turning around when the rain starts to hit with meaning. I don't want to get my fancy expensive bike all wet and dirty. I know, could I be any more of a girl?!
I manage to make it home in a drizzle feeling a little better about things and trying to figure out how to achieve my goals with the bike and starting to wonder if they are goals at all. Self doubt is starting to creep in like a cancer. I enjoy wiping the bike down.
I noted that was the first time I ever rode the bike angry. Even though I had crappy stats with a 14mph average for the eight miles I rode I kept trying to push it and hammer the pedals to the best of my abilities. Call it the Layla Factor, my time is now compressed so when I can get out on the bike I had better make the best of it. Whatever 'it' turns out to be.
As I rode in I began thinking of the week ahead, I want to try and get on the bike in the evenings now, after work, even if it's just for this little ride. I spent A LOT of money on that bike and by golly I am gonna ride it.
Maybe.
I was feeling fairly proud of myself for going out at all this last Sunday and tossed up my route and stats on facebook. goFast countered with the following:
60 degrees, steady rain, a short hail, head wind in every direction, water streaming from the point on the front of my helmet, drivers gawking as they passed, and only one other rider in 20 miles.
I peep out his stats in that nightmare, 20mi @ 17mph avg.
I guess it shows what being some sort of cyclocross maniac can do for you. He dropped by my office this morning telling me he was a bit embarrassed by his stats for that ride.
REALLY?! I was watching the conditions outside during the time frame and I would have been grinning ear to ear with a ride like that in normal conditions. I shrug, it's on me, not him.
What do I hope to accomplish with that bike of mine?
Currently I don't know. I thought I did but now I'm questioning it.
I wonder if what I told my wife a month or so ago is true? I said, "I'm tired of being afraid all the time."
Can I use that bike to cowboy up?
PS: Vote Wiktor if you have time :-)
No comments:
Post a Comment