many, many people ride harder than I do. harder, longer, faster . . . all of those adjectives. they are gnarlier than me, they are twice as tough, and they sign up for events that I'd like to think I could do but in reality, should never even consider.
I rode with two of them yesterday for a portion of their training rides.
and when I got home after my 6 hours of riding time (layne's target was 8, ivy's was 16) and stood under the pummeling shower, I thanked God that I wasn't training for anything remotely like they were.
my 90 miles were hard enough.
my body was beat-up enough.
and I was so very, very grateful to be off my bike and inside, drinking water from a glass and stuffing my face with (recovery) carbohydrates.
the sole point of my missive today is simply that I have limits, and I'm pretty aware of where they are. I don't mind pushing them sometimes, but I'm really not as crazy as a lot of people might think.
I'm pretty sure I'm never going to sign up for the official Death Ride (129 miles, 15,000' elevation gain over 5 mountain passes) like layne did.
I'm positive I'm never going to sign up for the Race Across Oregon (520 miles, something like 40,000' elevation gain over numerous mountain passes...) like ivy did.
however . . . there was a time, not so long ago, when I described a ride as crazy, absolutely nuts, and something I would never do . . .
and now, it appears I will be doing it. I know, I know, never say never.
stay tuned; more coming about my ridiculous upcoming I-know-I-said-I'd-never-do-it-but riding adventure.
I know my limits, I know my limits, I know my limits . . .