reasons to ride

it's nice out.
it's not raining.
it's only raining a little bit.
it's not snowing.
it's not coming down very hard.

it's calm.
it's only slightly windy.
it's only windy in bursts.
they aren't gale force winds yet.

the road is dry.
the road is drying.
the road is just wet in places.
the road only has snow in the gutters.
the bike lane is almost clear.

I feel great.
I feel pretty good.
I don't feel well, but exercise will help.
this cough is nothing, and I can breathe through my mouth.
I'm not on my deathbed yet.

my knees feel great.
my knees only bother me a little.
exercise will help my knees.
I can still make the pedals go around, slowly.

it's so nice I don't need toe covers.
I've got toe covers.
I've got booties.
these neoprene, fur-lined booties keep my feet almost dry.

it's monday.
it's tuesday.
it's wednesday.
it's thursday.
it's friday.
it's saturday.
it's sunday.

because I want to.
because I should.
because it keeps my heart healthy.
because I'll feel great when I'm done.

because the guy with only one leg is out there riding, too.

because I'm darn grateful I can ride a bike.

and the ultimate, final, always appropriate, real reason:

so I can eat more cake.

eating cake

last saturday biking buddy bob and I rode our bikes to sundance and back.
as we passed through a neighborhood on the southeastern foothills, bob said this is the 'let them eat cake' part of town.  communities set apart with guardhouses, four-story mansions on the hillside, private gated homes . . . this is an area of "haves".  or at the least, "hads."  homes built during the years of bigger is better, of if one is good three is what I'll have.
it's difficult to imagine what I'd do if I had oodles of money.
it's even more difficult to imagine being so out of touch with reality that I didn't know people in my own community were poverty-stricken and starving.

and this all began, today, because I decided to have cake for breakfast.  well, not really for breakfast, because I considered my wheat-toast-with-peanut-butter breakfast.  cake was more like a, um, post-breakfast snack.  then a pre-mid-morning snack.  and now it's my mid-morning snack.  soon it will be a before-lunch-snack.
perhaps it's time to stop eating cake.
I'm not quite sure what's going on for me today, but it's possibly connected to the fact that I'm in taper mode.
last saturday's ride to sundance and back (114 miles, 8 hours of saddle time, 10,300' of elevation gain) was my Big Final Ride of the training season leading up to lotoja.  once that peak is reached, I move into taper mode, where my miles-per-week are lessened, I try to rest more, I do more yoga.  the theory is that after one trains all summer, increasing the challenges to a peak, it's then time to cut back and rest up before the big event.
if I haven't trained hard enough yet, it's not going to happen in the last 10 days.
time to ease off.
relax a bit more.
rest.
and eat cake.
oops..... not sure about that last one, but I can't seem to convince myself that cake isn't part of the plan.
I hit taper time and think it's indulging time.
the right thing to do would be to eat more vegetables, dark leafy green things, protein, some fruit, drink lots of water.....
but I seem to want cake.

I'll never live in a ten-thousand-square-foot home on the hillside;  I'll never be an over-consumer.  I'll never forget that there are people who can't afford bread, let alone cake.

but I fear I'll always love cake just a little bit more than I should.

carving curves

you know how I feel about swooping.
and every good swoop has a bend to it . . . a gentle curve, a tighter turn, a switchback, an S curve.
and I like flying downhill around them: leaning into the curve, watching my speed, balancing my weight against the forces of gravity and its opposite.
what I like best is knowing my comfort zone, my limitations, just how fast I can go.
I know these things, and then I push them, just a bit.

I know I crashed a year ago. but it wasn't the result of a high-speed risk-taking maneuver. it was because of a weed.

and I am not reckless: I swoop with cautious abandon.

but I can't not do it: the thrill is too great.

today was a recovery ride day, and thank goodness the weather was absolutely perfect, because there were no thrilling swoops, no tight corners, no fun carving. my top speed was a whopping 26, my slowest about 10, and the most entertainment I had was dodging the plentiful potholes.
it was still a glorious ride, the sun shining and the temperature in the low 60's.
my legs spun round and round, I held back so that my heartrate stayed low (ish), and I just envisioned myself swooping.
tomorrow.
tomorrow I'll swoop.
because a good, curving swoop makes up for cold weather, suffocatingly hot weather, even questionable company. a good, downhill curve adds flavor and excitement to a ride, and can counterbalance preoccupation, grumpiness, exhaustion.
a great, curving swoop is possibly even better than chocolate.

and carving a perfect curve on the way downhill is one of the best things you can experience on a bike. it might have something to do with how hard you worked to get to the top, but it also has everything to do with the rush of wind in your face, your perfectly balanced form, and the knowledge that you have defied gravity for even a brief span of time.

yep, possibly better than chocolate.
possibly tied with a fat slice of warm apple pie.
and I'll have to let you know if it's better than a huge slice of red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting . . .

tomorrow.

cake

one year ago today, I hopped on my bike early in the morning, heading off to celebrate my Biking Anniversary by climbing up big cottonwood canyon to brighton ski resort, as I'd done the previous 3 years.
about seventeen minutes into my ride, I crashed, breaking my collar bone in two places, breaking a couple ribs, chipping my shoulder, and shredding my brand new bad ass team shorts.

today, I hopped on my bike early in the morning, heading off to celebrate my Biking Anniversary by climbing up big cottonwood canyon to brighton ski resort.
about seventeen minutes into my ride, I passed the spot where I had crashed, and I continued on, upright and solid, my collarbone still decorated with a titanium plate.

I'm big on anniversaries, on traditions, on celebrating (or at least acknowledging) the annual re-visiting of important dates. I hold most of these in my head (and that's why I forget them, sometimes), and most often celebrate them quietly, internally.
but this is a big one.
this changed my life.
it has helped me hold on, helped me clear my head, helped me escape, become healthier, meet new friends . . .
this is a huge anniversary for me.

so, since I rode a big hard ride this morning, and since it is such a special day, I will once again utilize those words of marie antoinette's that have been tweaked over time (and now by me):

let's go eat cake.

revolutionary math

a thought to be pondered:

during today's two-hour power camp spin class my legs made perfect circles over 12,000 times.




I think I've earned cake for dessert.