The good news is that I did manage to carve some time out of my day for a ride. The bad news is that it was a bit less than an hour. Still, at least it’s a ride.
As I stood in the garage pumping up the tires, I heard the ululating threnody of the wind and I thought to myself, “It’s windy.” I can pick up on subtle clues, you see.
Since I had such a small amount of time, I decided I would simply go as hard as I could go for the entire ride, and I had a great time. I was quick out of the blocks and set up a hard pace right from the beginning, even up the two hills I have to climb before I get out onto the main road.
About a mile in, a very large man watched me sedately as I passed him. He had a look of puzzlement on his face, but it wasn’t the full blown freakshow look – the one made by the person who says “What the…” as their head slowly turns to track you as you ride by. I got that look later.
It was definitely windy, but I was pushing hard all the time. I hit a moderately steep hill and stood up to go harder. It was at that point that I got the real freakshow look from a guy who was loading a truck. Getting that look again made me feel right at home on the bike.
People are looking at me like I’m weird! I must still be a cyclist! Yaaaaaaaaah!
The route I took had a lot of turns in it, so the wind was constantly changing, but, somehow, it also seemed to be pushing against me. Funny how that works. As I neared my turn around point, I saw what appeared to be a father with his young child, both of them on bikes. The father was teaching the child some important points about riding a bike: don’t wear a helmet, ride against traffic instead of with traffic and, when a car approaches you, make a big swerve to the other side of the road to get out of the way and then swerve back to where you were after the car goes by.
I did not offer any advice as I swept past them. After all, they don’t know that I’m a blogger with hundreds of…scores…dozens...some readers. I did not feel that my advice would be welcomed.
I hit my turnaround point and came back, but they were gone by the time I got back to where I had seen them.
I heard a dog barking at me, but, when I looked, all I could see was a big corn field. Hm. Dogs of the Corn. No. I don’t think there’s a market for that kind of movie these days.
I’ll be honest with you – by the time I got back to within three miles of home, my legs were tired. I was having so much fun, though, that I didn’t listen to any complaints my legs might have had (and, believe me, they had some) and kept the pace up as high as I could. Go as hard as I can go. That’s the goal today.
I stopped at a stoplight and I could feel my heart beating in my face. Well, I was almost home.
I turned for the last mile right into the teeth of the wind. Push hard. Push hard. Okay, so my pace is dropping. All I want to do now is to keep it up above ninetee…um…eighteen…seven….sixteen. Yeah. Let’s keep it up above fifteen in spite of the headwind. No, that’s too silly. Push harder.
I had a giant rubber band attached to my back. As I rode, it stretched tighter and tighter and tighter and then, all of a sudden, it was at full length and contracted and I went backwards. That was what it felt like. All of sudden, I popped, and my speed plummeted. It was kind of depressing, really, but I did have the satisfaction of knowing that I had gone as hard as I could go for nearly the whole time.
After a moment of rest, I picked the pace back up some and cruised home, tired and happy.
I turned into my subdivision and a child on a bike turned onto the road ahead of me. She looked back and saw me and then proceeded to turn in wide circles, taking up the entire road. I managed to get past her without incident and then came upon a car taking up nearly the entire road. The driver had stopped to check her mail and, instead of pulling into her driveway, had simply stopped across the road.
Well, if you’re going to have problems, I suppose it’s better to have them there than out on the road where people are going 45 or 55 mph, right?
I got back home tired and happy and hungry for me, and today’s another day.
See you on the road.