I stepped out of my usual routine this morning. Usually it's all about getting together with the crew for nice mountain bike ride to wash away the grime of the workweek. Today, I opted to attend the Saturday Chaires Road Ride, as I clearly needed to have my ass handed to me. Marko, Rodrique, and Big Jim Slade decided to play along, and joined in for the fun. I use that term, "fun", very loosely!
Oh dear Lord, that ride turned me inside out. Marko and I made it to the end with the A Group, but in their defense, it was an easy ride this week. Nothing like being stoked to have suffered through seven levels of hell, and then be told nonchalantly at the end, "Yeah, it was nice taking it easy today, I'm a little under the weather." Or my other favorite, " Today was a nice tempo ride. I'm glad it wasn't so fast for a change."
They can all kiss my @55!! I saw way more 170+ time on my heart rate monitor than I thought I was capable of.!! Mark wasn't giving them the satisfaction and promptly responded with, "Yeah, we haven't been out here in a few years. It was nice to come back to a slower ride for the first one." Complete BS, but I'm glad he had the wherewithal to play the game, 'cause I was still too far in oxygen debt. At that point I'm pretty sure I was pondering more important things like, who's legs those were pedalling my bike, or if I'd actually ever feel my taint again.
We arrived at the truck to discover that Rodrique either made it back and drove home, or someone had stolen his truck. Big Jim Slade, however, was nowhere to be seen, while his truck was still where he left it. We had hoped he'd used one of the shortcuts to beat us back, but no such luck. I started changing back to street clothes and trying to stretch a little when my phone starts ringing. Obviously in a low blood sugar moment, I was cussing the phone for disturbing my inventory of body parts that may never feel the same. Mark insists I grab it in case it's Slade, but I was just a second too slow, story of my life. I open the phone to see I've missed 5 calls from our missing compadre. I call him back and he answers, " What the hell??!! I haven't seen the first search party yet!!! Are you guys coming or what??!!". As soon as we get through laughing, Mark and I load up and go looking for the last of the Lost Boys.
It was definitely an eye opener to go that hard for that long. You lose focus for a few seconds and a gap opens that you may not be able to close. Ask Jim, it's a long ride home solo.
7 comments:
Hey, it wasn't so bad. I met two new riding buddies after I got dropped. This made three. Their names? Well, there was me then there was myself and then good 'ol I. That's right me, myself and I. Thing is they don't talk much and can't ride for s@#*.
So when do we go again?
I know exactly how you felt. That's how I feel after every single Sunday ride - only that I usually do not hang on to the end. :-)
Well done!
F'in Roadies!
Risking your life, to ride with a group that won't wait for you.
If you're lucky, you'll get to ride with road snobs you wouldn't wanna have a beer with, if you're unlucky, you finally got hit by that SUV with the phone-distracted soccer mom.
"GET OFF THE F'CKING ROAD!"
They Yell, Gladly, I say.
Damn, that rant even trascends some of my best condemnations of the road bike. Well done.
Big Jim- We are putting together an incentive package and hope to have it in your agent's hands before the week is out.
And this is the reason you want me to get a road bike?
Juancho-Your group must be missing a stooge and are looking to recruit.
Donnie-You've heard the term "missery loves company"? Damn right we want you to get a road bike.
We dropped Larry down a well and Shemp won't call us back.
Moe and Curly
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