I’m pretty sure I’ll never be one of those girls who bounces out of bed at the sheer prospect of riding my bike. Don’t get me wrong, I love riding my bike. I just also love burrowing in my warm cozy bed. Because my love of cycling can be so easily trumped by my bed, I resort to trickery. I round up the troops and make them ride with me. I might stand myself up, but I won’t leave a friend hanging. So this morning, I set out in the good company of Terry, That Laura, Nick and Abby.
This morning I ate the cycling breakfast of champions: oatmeal, skinned grapefruit and a banana. The last time I rode, I had eggs for breakfast and almost had a reversal of fortune on the side of the road up to Shasta Dam. (Note to self: Eggs are not a good cycling food.) But back to this morning, I slipped on my Team Fatty gear, dismayed that the fatty part, while once ironic, is now just truth in advertising. I’m working on that.
The weather today was so perfect, blue sky, cotton ball clouds and barely a hint of wind. It was warm enough that I didn’t even need tights. We headed out to Millville Plains, my most favorite place to ride. You can see for miles and miles at the top of the Plains. The cows grazing there must be the happiest in all of California. My favorite tree lives there, too. She was all sticks and bones standing guard over the plains, but I know she’s secreting away green buds for me underneath her black skin. Spring is coming, spring is coming I told her as I whipped by.
My legs were strong most of the ride leading me to believe that maybe, just maybe, my spin instructor isn’t entirely evil. My legs were strong enough, but my heart, my heart was fierce. I had the heart of a warrior today. It pumped away pressing uphill, screaming downhill, and keeping time on the flats. It was glorious and I smiled so much my teeth hurt from the cool air. Not even the five putrid dead skunks I passed or the pair of pitbulls that chased me could dampen my joy.
Thirty three miles into the ride and three miles from home, my legs began to ache. The sort of ache that feels like my bones are hollow and might shatter any second, but I’ve had this ache before and I know it passes if I just ignore it. Well, I complain about it and then ignore it. Same difference. I willed my legs to circle me back home. At home I rested in the front yard. Not even the fact that I’d locked myself out of my house could ruin this ride. I waited for a friend to arrive with spare key and as my legs pulsed complaints, my heart was steady, calm even. I sat there making a sweaty print on my walkway and realized I’d just had one of the best rides of my life. Now that just might make me bounce out of bed to ride next time.