Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Racing the boys
RC and I got out for a ride this morning. Now that I am not training for a triathlon, I can go for long rides, stop for coffee on the way back, and not not have the pressure of hitting a certain number of miles or time. It makes the rides more enjoyable. Not that they weren't before. But, if I'm tired, I can go home or I can stop and have a coffee, and I won't feel guilty.
Even though I am not training, I still am competetive. Every so often, someone will pass me and it'll light a little fire in me, so I try to keep up. Sometimes, they're past in 2 pedal strokes. Today, it might have been the double shot espresso at Coffee Roastery in San Anselmo, I could keep up. After RC and I parted ways at the Bridge, I had 7 miles home. This is where the "race" began. One man passed me, and I let him go, but noticed on the uphill, I caught up. So, I passed. He must not have like that because he passed back. Then I got right on his wheel--meaning, I got right behind him and let him block the wind. I noticed there was another man behind us, about 10 feet back. Through Presidio, down Arguello, at the stop signs and lights, we hop scotched in the lead. Another group of guys came up, less serious bikers. I could tell this because they had their street clothes on. But they apparently wanted to "race" too. I beat all of them, except the initial man, who might have been playing with me, "letting' me stick right behind him, but, I'll take it. It was a fun way to end the ride...And, I'll admit, gave me a little satisfaction. Though, no one else but me knew we were "racing!"
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| clip from Bike Snob blog |
Even though I am not training, I still am competetive. Every so often, someone will pass me and it'll light a little fire in me, so I try to keep up. Sometimes, they're past in 2 pedal strokes. Today, it might have been the double shot espresso at Coffee Roastery in San Anselmo, I could keep up. After RC and I parted ways at the Bridge, I had 7 miles home. This is where the "race" began. One man passed me, and I let him go, but noticed on the uphill, I caught up. So, I passed. He must not have like that because he passed back. Then I got right on his wheel--meaning, I got right behind him and let him block the wind. I noticed there was another man behind us, about 10 feet back. Through Presidio, down Arguello, at the stop signs and lights, we hop scotched in the lead. Another group of guys came up, less serious bikers. I could tell this because they had their street clothes on. But they apparently wanted to "race" too. I beat all of them, except the initial man, who might have been playing with me, "letting' me stick right behind him, but, I'll take it. It was a fun way to end the ride...And, I'll admit, gave me a little satisfaction. Though, no one else but me knew we were "racing!"
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