Last Saturday morning I rode a bike for forty five minutes. It is cooler now, these last few days, but the tail end of last week was different. It had become suddenly hot again in Phoenix. A/C ran more Friday night than it had in a week. So much for fall.
I had a bit of time, and I took it. I rode that morning for the first time in forever. Or so it seemed.
Just kitting up was a chore. Imagine the choleric expenditure associated with shoehorning my fat ass into lycra. I actually used to do this? On purpose?
Man. Choose the Fondriest. Fixed. TR tubes. Nothing can go wrong. All I need is to get the thing through the door without somehow managing to bear trap myself with the fucking thing.
Not the best photo I’ve taken, but it’s the only photo I have of that moment. Someday cell phone camera’s are going to light the world on fire. As for now, they’re just marginally adequate. Much like myself.
Helmet. Shoes. Sunglasses. Driveway. Go.
Man, it has been a long time. The legs are wooden. The legs are smaller. The jersey isn’t tighter, save in the arms. I guess the pipe stems are a thing of the past. Who knew 12 ounce descending curls made your biceps bigger?by