blow me
I had yesterday off, to celebrate the birthday of Dr. King, and I actually spent a few minutes thinking about him and his message, and how far we've come, and how far we have to go, and then I went bike riding.
One of the neighbors went with me. I gave the youngster a choice. He could come with us, or he had to go to the gym, but he needed some exercise, one way or the other. He chose the gym. All things considered, his was probably the smarter move. I just felt guilty, because Saturday it rained and Sunday was cold and windy, and I had been a bike wimp. I needed to get out.
It was chilly...about 55 degrees, but the bigger factor, by far, was the wind. It was out of the east, and I'm guessing somewhere around 20 miles an hour. Based on that we picked a route dead into it. We figured, it'd be hell going out, but the trip home would be great, so we headed toward the beach.
It was brutal, right from the start. As soon as we turned east it was like hitting a wall. It reminded me a bit of the MS ride, but it was colder, and drier, and possibly windier. I got up to 17 miles an hour a few times, but it wasn't a sustainable pace. 15 miles an hour was a struggle, but we held that most of the time. We almost got creamed by a semi on US 1, on the small stretch we have to take on the way to the beach. After he passed us, he kept drifting right until the entire double wheel on the back of the trailer was right of the right lane. Going to the beach, you hit the intracoastal waterway, and a bridge high enough to let the boat traffic through...like large sailboats with tall masts. I don't know that I have ever had to push myself on a bike like I did yesterday, going east to get to the top of that bridge. I willed myself to keep pedaling, and not get off and walk. Coming down the other side of the bridge, I didn't pedal. I wanted to see how much acceleration gravity would provide against that wind. I barely saw 15 miles an hour. My riding partner fared even less well. He didn't stop and walk, but once I got across the whole bridge thing, I had to wait a bit for him to catch up.
We continued east, not all the way to the beach, but to a traffic circle where there's a grocery store. We stopped a minute for a drink and looked at the sky...which was hinting rain. I thought, please God no...not after we managed to get this far, please hold off until we get home.
We turned around, and just like we thought, the trip home was much easier. The bridge wasn't nearly as difficult, and this time, I was hitting the brakes on the downhill side, because I didn't like going faster than 32 miles an hour. I thought...all I need now is a blowout, and I'm a human skid mark. I kept looking at the sky and pedaling, keeping us pretty much in the 20 to 22 mile an hour range.
We got home slightly under 30 miles for the trip, but stayed dry, sat down and had a beer. A day later though, I can still feel that first trip over that bridge in my thighs.
One of the neighbors went with me. I gave the youngster a choice. He could come with us, or he had to go to the gym, but he needed some exercise, one way or the other. He chose the gym. All things considered, his was probably the smarter move. I just felt guilty, because Saturday it rained and Sunday was cold and windy, and I had been a bike wimp. I needed to get out.
It was chilly...about 55 degrees, but the bigger factor, by far, was the wind. It was out of the east, and I'm guessing somewhere around 20 miles an hour. Based on that we picked a route dead into it. We figured, it'd be hell going out, but the trip home would be great, so we headed toward the beach.
It was brutal, right from the start. As soon as we turned east it was like hitting a wall. It reminded me a bit of the MS ride, but it was colder, and drier, and possibly windier. I got up to 17 miles an hour a few times, but it wasn't a sustainable pace. 15 miles an hour was a struggle, but we held that most of the time. We almost got creamed by a semi on US 1, on the small stretch we have to take on the way to the beach. After he passed us, he kept drifting right until the entire double wheel on the back of the trailer was right of the right lane. Going to the beach, you hit the intracoastal waterway, and a bridge high enough to let the boat traffic through...like large sailboats with tall masts. I don't know that I have ever had to push myself on a bike like I did yesterday, going east to get to the top of that bridge. I willed myself to keep pedaling, and not get off and walk. Coming down the other side of the bridge, I didn't pedal. I wanted to see how much acceleration gravity would provide against that wind. I barely saw 15 miles an hour. My riding partner fared even less well. He didn't stop and walk, but once I got across the whole bridge thing, I had to wait a bit for him to catch up.
We continued east, not all the way to the beach, but to a traffic circle where there's a grocery store. We stopped a minute for a drink and looked at the sky...which was hinting rain. I thought, please God no...not after we managed to get this far, please hold off until we get home.
We turned around, and just like we thought, the trip home was much easier. The bridge wasn't nearly as difficult, and this time, I was hitting the brakes on the downhill side, because I didn't like going faster than 32 miles an hour. I thought...all I need now is a blowout, and I'm a human skid mark. I kept looking at the sky and pedaling, keeping us pretty much in the 20 to 22 mile an hour range.
We got home slightly under 30 miles for the trip, but stayed dry, sat down and had a beer. A day later though, I can still feel that first trip over that bridge in my thighs.
Labels: It's all about me
John put this out here at 8:04 AM
1 Comments:
I blew off yesterday too...it was too cold to do anything...like in the lower 40's (F.). So I stayed in and had hot chocolate while contemplating the perfect snowflake.
:)
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