On Tuesday I got out for a quick 35 mile multi-surface road ride. There was little that was impressive about the ride: it was more pavement than dirt, featured little elevation gain and it wasn’t all that long. What was impressive about it was it was a perfect sunny day, there was little wind, I felt strangely good on the bike, and the bike itself [the Trek Boone Disc 5] continues to impress and woo me with its charms, whether I am on dirt, gravel or paved roads.
I rode 47 miles of dirt roads and pavement today; it was swell. Then I showered, went for groceries, made dinner, did some laundry, took B to soccer practice (a half hour early of course to kick the ball around) and then met up with a friend of mine at a pub a couple blocks from home to chat over a few Duvels. All and all a pretty good Thursday.
After Saturday’s shoe incident, in which I drove twenty-five minutes north to MMCC for a ride only to realize I forgot my shoes, I headed back on Sunday for another attempt.
After spending 8.5 hours with my ass puckered on Wednesday, waiting to screw something up on my first day at the shop, I slept like a baby last night* : a six-foot one, 200+ pound, shaved legged, beer bellied, Morrissey haired, love handled, bike riding, wanker-like baby. Despite that lengthy, yet still abbreviated, list of my handicaps, it still managed to feel great.
The week so far had been pretty lackluster in the bike ridin’ department: one hour on the trainer and a 15+ mile lap of singletrack at MMCC was all I had under my ever-expanding belt. Thankfully that changed today and I got out on the Boone for 47.5 miles of dirt roads, pavement and gravel. Huzzah!
It’s been a while since I last rode snowless singletrack; I reckon about six months. Most of the delay was due to me being lazy and not having my mountain bike(s) up and ready to go when the Michigan winter finally broke. The rest was due to the fact that I got a new cross bike (Boone!) and have been stacking up hours and miles riding dirt, gravel and paved roads so as to give my fitness a much needed kick in the lard ass and lose a few pounds.
Over the past three days I have been blessed with great weather, getting to watch B-Man play soccer and squeezing in some miles on the dirt roads. I have a few good pics and some of my typical not-so-wise words about all that to share, but right now I am caught up in me, eating food, hanging with my family, and having my well-earned weekend beers.
After Saturday’s debacle of a ride where I limped home a bonked, wind hammered, shell of a would-be cyclist, I took Sunday and Monday off the bike. Sunday I went to B’s soccer match, watched footy on TV, drank a few beers and cooked burgers on the grill. Monday I made sure to hydrate, got back to eating good, quality foods and hoped that the bonk I experienced on Saturday was just the result of poor post-ride recovery and Friday night hijinks. I hoped, prayed and fretted that I had not become so fat, slovenly and crap that I could do, 40, 45, 48 and 49.5 mile rides fine, but the mere idea of cresting 50 miles would turn me to a heap of human suck clad in lycra.
I had an excellent ride on Friday and felt good almost the entire 49.3 miles. The only downfall of the ride was popping a spoke and NOT breaking the elusive 50 mile mark. A mark that one time was no big deal to me, but as I become older and fatter has become the benchmark for a “long ride.”
In hindsight, Saturday was pretty good too. But before I get to Saturday’s ride I need to go further into Friday’s post ride, which laid the groundwork for how amazingly bad Saturday would eventually be.
Today I finally broke the fifty mile mark. I know, that’s not even a big deal, but for some reason not “officially” breaking fifty miles for a ride was a thorn in my love handled side for weeks. But I did it today with 51.5 miles. And Christ did I earn it.
