| I'M BACK ON MY BIKE!
I got my Holdsworth cleaned and repacked and trued. New
tape, new rubber.
Took it out this morning.
Found my Campy shirt and my shorts right where I left
them, surprisingly clean and supple, like they'd been
washed yesterday. Opened the garage, strapped myself on,
and lit out.
First time I and that bike have been on the road since...
must be... 1992?
Still as sexy as it ever was. Sleek and silky and hungry
to split the wind.
Didn't go too far. I've lost enough weight to do my bike
justice again, but I'm not in any kind of shape. Only rode
about 4 miles, kept up 60-70 strokes except on the climbs,
but the last hill almost clobbered my quads; I couldn't
even get up to mash; I had to gear down and grind. Put a
good sweat on, though; and a little burn, too.
Went home, leaned my bike against the garage cabinets,
rehydrated myself, played with the dog, had fun climbing
the stairs, took a shower.
A bit later, driving to work, I realized: I'm back on my bike.
Reconnected with the centuries, the rush, the wind, the
turned heads, the crits, the fun-runs, the decade I spent
watching those pedals flash under drops of sweat, my lost
body, my spent optimism, chapters of my life.
A dozen years of being too busy, too heavy, or having the
easy-out of recumbent stationary bikes with the TV and eye
candy at the gym had kept us apart. If that gym hadn't
closed, or the other one hadn't tried to hard-sell me, I
might have taken the easy-out again. But fate has spoken.
I'm back on my bike. With no end of the ride in sight.
--Blair
"Go ahead. I'll catch up." |