Ride Ride Ride, Little Rider
Temperatures reached triple digits on Saturday. The summer is upon us. Cycling is reaching a fever pitch.
We’re frenzied. Frothing. Rabid.
Sal takes off on long road rides with the team while I jump into mountain bike excursions, or early-morning outings with riding buddies. The daylight is long and generous, our legs feel strong and ready.
Our Winter Woes are miles away and there are even rumors that Larch Mountain is finally rideable.
I feel like a new woman.
I am not a cycling phenomenon. Not even close. But I’m a girl with strong legs and a stubborn heart. I now have the miles to back up my ambition and I am piling goal upon goal in frantic fashion.
I go out and push gears for the sheer love of it. There is no real glory headed my way – only the variety that I create in my heart when I destroy yet another perceived barrier.
Longer roads are leading to steel bike conversions and seriously serious saddle selection. I am half Rando, half MTB, and half ‘crosser. If bodies and spirits knew fractions then wouldn’t life be more simple? There wouldn’t be the need to explain that .5 plus .5 plus .5 is 1.5 which is greater than any single one person is allowed to be.
I could say, "But I am only one." and the body would know what I meant.
As it is, my stubborn spirit rejects mathematical limitation and divides itself across disciplines as if days weren’t made out of hours.
I appreciate my spirit’s ability to entertain limitlessness, but struggle in the wake of the logistical aftermath. In the frenzy of our summer cycling pinnacle, the possibilities are overwhelming.
Road, Mountain bike, Rando – Oh my!
These are good problems to have, people.
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