OK, so you're NOT king of the world....
Future self, take note:
If you ever find yourself, three weeks after RAGBRAI ends, during which time you did not bike at all, and, to be exact, you exercised only your TiVo remote control finger because you spent much of that time sick in bed, and it should also be said, eating like a madwoman; if you ever find yourself with the sudden ability to bike to work in 1:47 (compared to previous times of 1:54, 1:57, 2:00, 2:03, and other similar times), do not take it as a sign that you have become a biking goddess. Do not presume that by watching track bike racing from Beijing all week, you have somehow improved your own biking skills through some form of osmosis.
No, no, no.
If you ever find yourself with the sudden ability to bike to work in 1:47, just wait 'til your bike ride home, where you will more than likely experience the brutal headwind that, it turns out, helped you secure that 1:47 time. And brace yourself for the frustrating, mind- and body-numbing ride through what feels like molasses, as it takes you 2:04 to get home.
(FYI, NONE of those are good times, not even 1:47. My dad used to ride the same distance/route to work fairly regularly, and when he was in shape he clocked around 1:30. I hope to get there, with regular riding.)
If you ever find yourself, three weeks after RAGBRAI ends, during which time you did not bike at all, and, to be exact, you exercised only your TiVo remote control finger because you spent much of that time sick in bed, and it should also be said, eating like a madwoman; if you ever find yourself with the sudden ability to bike to work in 1:47 (compared to previous times of 1:54, 1:57, 2:00, 2:03, and other similar times), do not take it as a sign that you have become a biking goddess. Do not presume that by watching track bike racing from Beijing all week, you have somehow improved your own biking skills through some form of osmosis.
No, no, no.
If you ever find yourself with the sudden ability to bike to work in 1:47, just wait 'til your bike ride home, where you will more than likely experience the brutal headwind that, it turns out, helped you secure that 1:47 time. And brace yourself for the frustrating, mind- and body-numbing ride through what feels like molasses, as it takes you 2:04 to get home.
(FYI, NONE of those are good times, not even 1:47. My dad used to ride the same distance/route to work fairly regularly, and when he was in shape he clocked around 1:30. I hope to get there, with regular riding.)
Labels: biking
posted by Jen S. at
5:57 PM
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