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

Sunday, September 09, 2007

The tour of the future... unplugged


At the end of stage 4, Tour de l'Avenir
Sunday, September 9, 2007- 10:00pm (GMT +01:00)

The world’s been tossed around and thrown up ‘n down since however long it’s been… a week…? Two weeks…? It seems like a month or two. Maybe not. It’s hard to believe that I came home and came right back within a period of a couple weeks. Back to the rules set by the fools from the old school, France. I was home and everything was swell, the rain, the sun, the watts, the training… the whole lot of it. But then I got to US Pro and it all seemed to go to the restroom. Every time over the little hill it was like listening to the gunner thing on asteroids… pew, pew, pew! Essentially useless and altogether unworthy. I did all I could but it really wasn’t worth the trip. I never checked the wattage, but I’m assuming I didn’t have quite the punch I’d had 5 days before in training. By the time I was completely and utterly dropped (50 meters before the start of the climb on the fourth lap), I felt like I’d just fallen off the side of Mt. Everest. I was actually debating the reasoning behind even getting on the plane for the tour de l’Avenir after feeling so pitiful. But after a night in the Hyatt, hearing some chronic and sipping iced tea in the ATL I decided that things couldn’t get any worse. I hauled two bikes and my bag down to the lobby and let the good folks who run the shuttle figure out the logistics.On the flight to Paris I managed to get no sleep and acquire what felt like an inch of dirty lather… which basically makes you feel dirty. I got off the plane and onto a bus where I finally set foot on French soil. Once in the security area I pulled a sweet move and ended up eluding the line which swarmed ahead. I’m not sure how, it just happened… and I walked on by with my pass-port in my hand and baggage claim on my mind. 45 minutes later I asked where my stuff was and discovered that I was in a bona-fide missing luggage situation. 5 hours later, after an entirely sleepless night covered in an inch of lather, my luggage arrived from Atlanta on the next flight. I didn’t ask anymore questions or yell, or maim anyone, or anything. I just got my stuff out of there… entirely intent on never seeing any of them again. Fortunately, in the last 7 or 8 or however many days it’s been things have “just been getting better.”