Life On Two Wheels

Along the river and toward the mountains a morning shadow shimmers across the road. The rays of the first light jet through the trees and across a figure gliding upon the road. His breath trails in short spurts, petrified as it hits the icy air. All is quiet except the slight sound of the athlete as he summons himself for yet another days work. Soon the rest of the world will bustle with life as well and the brief simplicity of cyclist and nature will disappear into the everyday struggle of life in full motion; the errands and intervals, the appointments and intersections, and the deadlines and finish lines OutPaceTheRace

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

The highway to hell

Boulder, CO
Tuesday, August 01, 2006

… And the acclimation is complete… I think.

I went out on a 3.5 hour ride today with some intervals of intensity and a few flat-out 10 second sprints. I felt swell for the first time. There was no gasping lapse after each interval, it was like riding at sea level- or as close to it as you can get. So I’m pretty stoked about that. The weather was great, as usual, although tomorrow is supposed to be thunderstorms or something. That should be fine though, they usually start up in the afternoon when they decide to “rear their ugly head.”
I’m not one to ride on the highway, so each day I’ve been heading out of Boulder and turning off onto the first side street and making a ride out of a maze of interconnected roads. However, everyday I see these dudes out riding the highway. The speed limit is sixty. As far as I can tell that’s pretty much the same as riding on a freeway. You’ve gotta either be a genius beyond my extraordinary capacity or there’s some inside secret that I don’t know about riding on the highway. So today I set out to discover the secret, and found out that indeed they’re all a bunch of morons waiting to get nailed by some crazy punk in his ricer. It’s your life; I’m not one to tell ya how to live it…