Back on the bike

My new ritual (3 years running now) is to rent a bike at Kitty Hawk Cycle Company so I can get some miles in when I'm not frolicking at the beach with everyone. I guess I'm supporting the local economy, since I choose not to bring my own bike down, which, while extremely possible, is a pain in the ass.

I called Mike on Friday to ask him to reserve a bike for me, to which he replied he couldn't have one for me until Sunday, since his cycle works Sunday to Saturday, and we get there on Friday. So I'll miss the Saturday group ride...big deal. Until he says "But I'll lend you mine, so you can ride on Saturday". He rides a 53, I'm typically a 54, so for a day I'm golden. Now THAT'S how to guarantee repeat business.

To riff on the word repeat, it's now time to repeat riding daily so that I can get some respectable miles in before Charm City (seven weeks away) and the ensuing 'cross season. It's finally clicking, even though I'm still slow and have no snap, I'm ready to train seriously again. I guess I needed a 9 month layoff to resolve some other things jangling around, and this will start fitting together again.

Saturday was a great ride in the park with Kelly and Trevor, after which we were joined by Lee, Carol, and George. I was way late for the N2 and thought I'd pick it up on the return leg, but I'm glad I missed it as this edition featured 4 riders down, with three to the hospital. No major injuries, but definitely a bummer for those affected. Riding with Lee is a bonus, since I haven't seen him on the road in a long time, and look forward to some more time riding with him.

Sunday was one of those clarifying, intensely mellow affairs which featured a good soaking pretty much from the start. Warm summer rains are great to ride in, since senses are heightened more acutely than normal. Rooster tails and road grit in the eyes, sweat mixed with rain, a little more space between each other. And funny, too, when you have to tell the guy in front of you to not use so much detergent next time he washes his kit--the suds coming out of this guy's shorts made his hindquarters look rabid.

Later in the afternoon we rode to Wheaton Park with a group of girl scouts, a short little trip that only took out one little brother, as he couldn't quite negotiate a sharp turn at the bottom of the hill on the trail. Got up quick, though, and I reassured him that crashing on wet pavement is a helluvalot better than dry. He'll probably feel it in his bones tonight, but at least he won't be sticking to the sheets.