Your road. Your ride.

How come it took all summer long to build up my beautiful biker's tan, and it seems to be gone in one month of not riding? It was such a conversation starter: "That's an interesting tan you have. Why are there tan lines on your wrists?" "Well, you see, I ride my bike excessively. To the exclusion of most everything else, in fact." And then I'd watch their eyes glaze over as I described the mileage I'd put in every week. It was quite entertaining. And now it's gone.



Stolen from the latest Spinning catalog:
"Your friends may not get it, but they probably wish their legs looked like yours. (RR adds: My legs? Yeah, right. Whatever.) You crave intervals like other people crave chocolate (ok, but I still love chocolate more). And the rhythm of your own smooth, uninterrupted pedal strokes puts you into a Zen-like state." Any of this sound familiar?

I was so Zen-like on my ride yesterday that I almost forgot I was riding. Totally checked out mentally a couple of times. It was my first ride in a month. And it felt really good to be back on the bike...when I remembered that I was riding, that is. That's how smooth and uninterrupted my ride was.

There were a few places that I was more aware of my ride. Take Provo High for instance. I usually don't like to ride in downtown Provo. It's pretty crazy. But, and let this be a warning for those of you who do ride in Provo, there is a load of nails in the road right in front of Provo High. Almost seems like they were put there on purpose. I became very aware of my bike while I dodged nails in the road. Luckily, I avoided a flat in downtown Provo. Especially lucky because I had forgotten to bring my phone. Not that I would have needed my phone had I gotten a flat. I am perfectly capable of changing a flat myself. I was just remembering that I had forgotten my phone. It would have been nice to have it had I forgotten anything else -- like my CO2 pump.

Unfortunately, I wasn't lucky enough to avoid a flat altogether. I flatted about a block away from home. I considered, for a second, riding the rest of the way (since I had my junk wheels on and all), but changed my mind when my bike started to fishtail a bit. So I ended up walking home. I felt pretty silly about it since it was right in front of the jr. high and all the kids were out to lunch at the time. But that's ok. They probably wished they had legs like mine, right?