I went on my second group ride tonight, I think it was around twenty-two, twenty-three miles. It was good, I wasn’t at the very back of the pack and worked hard to stay with some guys in the middle. I did pretty good on the way but on the way back there are so many hills and they finally had left my @$$. Which is fine, I didn’t expect them to wait for me, that’s annoying, but I did get lost and have to ask some woman in suburbia land for directions. As luck would have it I was only about two blocks from the rendezvous point.
I did not puke tonight, probably due to the energy bars I ate just before the ride and no extra exercise today. It was also a night and day difference between the hybrid and the road bike. The road bike is so smooth. My only regret about biking thus far is that I didn’t start sooner, I hate that I have missed this for so long. What I love about biking is that I rode tonight with twenty-somethings and sixty-somethings, and it was a work out for all. It’s really my exercise of choice, and quickly becoming a favorite pastime as well.
As I drove home tonight I rolled down the windows, ok not literally but I don’t think that expression will ever die, but I noticed how beautiful it was and I felt recovered and had to talk myself out of getting on the bike again when I got home. I think I’ve found my new vice. And in the words of Martha Stewart, it’s a good thing.
I’ll leave you with a little newbie humor. On my first ride I got to try out my new biking gloves, red, white and black, like my bike. I sported those babies and felt like the enthusiast. The next few rides I was in Oklahoma and I continued to wear them, but much to my chagrin my hands continued to go numb. I kept having to shake them out and not only was it perplexing, but irritating. Irritating because I paid thirty-five bucks for a pair of gloves that weren’t doing $hit for me. Then I started to check them on the side of the road, I thought to myself; self, why did they make these gloves with all the padding on the anterior surface, one would think the padding would best serve a rider on the palmar surface to ease the pressure? Then it dawned on me…maybe, I have them on back wards. I peeled them off and flipped them over and traded hands and voilà! You can imagine my embarrassment but then I realized there was no one there to witness my cycling faux pas…smile…except the thirty or so riders at my first group ride, some of whom (insert sarcasm) are a schosh above novice. Hardy, Har, Har.
Schosh: adj. meaning a tiny bit. (Brought to you by, made up words from Ro)
Sleep well friends.