Jeeebus.
Yes, I ran a 5K back in the spring.
And there’s been some amazeballs progress through some diet program that you’ve probably heard about on your favorite podcast
And the running is getting better – not quite sure why, but probably because it couldn’t get worse.
But, I screwed up my arm doing housework, and the summer started going to heck.
Then, a close family member passed. Like close, as in not that much younger than me. Not an “elder”; nor someone whose passing was expected.
Fsck.
Like, really Fsck.
Anyway, so I’m winged, and I spent a couple weeks in Texas, and I hit a milestone birthday, and Jesus, I’m not nearly where I ought to be for someone who used to be able to crank out a 1:45-ish half-marathon.
BUT:
- I’ve been taking it easy on the run for like 12 months. I’ve experimented with shoes, and stretching, and
- Jesus Christ, I’ve kept it easy for like 12 months
- And it seems to be working.
But today wasn’t a run day, it was a bike day. Or was supposed to be. So, even tho I didn’t really want to ride, I dressed out after taking a nap this afternoon.
Sigh.
Down the stairs, to the garage, and actually pulled the bike off the wall. This is a win, rite?
Eh, tires are soft. Pump ‘em up.
OK, so that’s done. Let’s just clip in and go around the block.
Nice. Sun is shining, breeze is brisk coming off the sound. We’ll make it across the bridge, and see how things feel.
Things feel good. Like real good.
So, let’s take the turn up Montauk, then up past the golf course, and then past the corn field, and then keep going, and then I’m on Boston Post road.
FSCK. Uphill from Fischer’s Island sound SUCKS. I am old, fat, and outta shape.
But, I’ve also poured 30+ minutes into driving uphill from the house, and traffic is light. Let’s see what we can do.
Left turn onto Boston Post Road. Catch the breath, suck down half a bottle, and try to figure out where the turn to Al Harvey is.
On Al Harvey, the headphones die. No more CyclingTips podcast in my ears, just cows and breeze and post-tourist September and old white wheezing dude. Waved at the Stonington cops parked in the gun club. Moo’d at the cows soon to become local, grass fed beef. Chugged downhill.
There’s a feeling on the bike that only comes around once in a while, and I hit it this afternoon, heading down from Boston Post Road. Every rise in the road was a chance to get out of the saddle and crank. Every downhill was a chance to be in the drops and crank. Every corner was a racing turn, once I confirmed there were no cars in the way.
Anyway,
This is just to say that
I have railed the corners
that you have paused at
I know that you were
saving them for breakfast
Thank you
They were so warm
So open, and tires so grippy.