I'm now officially a Deadly Rigs maniac, aka blog contributor. Word. AIDS LifeCycle training is upon us. So…every Saturday morning, we ride. And every Saturday morning, I'm the only cyclist in our pack with bazoombas instead of balls. I wish there were a few more lady cyclists on the road, to offset the musky male spandex that whizzes by me weekly. Instead, I end up talking to the guys about whether or not to don underwear under cycling shorts (verdict: skip the undies).
Captains B. Steegs and Patchy Crawford are amazing cyclists, strong and athletic, with calves like Lance Amstrong's, only beefier. But when a pack of dudes rides, they race to the finish.
Here's my bike, sometimes far behind:
I am the tortoise in this fable. Slow and steady. According to Aesop, I'm supposed to win the race, right? As it were, the hare is quite a bit stronger than this tortoise, so I can never catch up. Those swift rabbits wait for me at the top of the hill. That's where they're supposed to curl up and nap til sundown, while I soar by in a graceful flash. But guess what. Cliff bars and five-hour energy shots weren't around in Aesop's day. The rabbits wait for me to catch up, only to zoom off again! It's motivating and definitely challenging, but a tad mentally discouraging too.
During the upcoming months of training, Aesop's fable will be rewritten my way. I don't even know what that means, but my subconscious is humming that "Rock Steady" song by the Whispers. Timeless:
We crushed a gorgeous 48-mile trek through Tiburon and Paradise Drive last weekend. Aside from the post-ride Little Chihuahua burrito, my favorite part of the day was rounding a bend only to see Brian peeing in the woods and waving at me with his free hand. For a short while, the tortoise was winning!