Here I am! I'm here!

Sorry, I've been busy helping to organizing an indie craft show (I know, what don't I do? Aside from math?) and I think I've gotten two rides in since my last entry. TWO. The weather was also part of the problem:



Look how sad our bikes look:




Wahhh. I know, poor me. Every time I complain about the weather being too cold or wet or whatever I think about Arcticglass and I cringe because, dang. I am a wuss. A big loser wuss. But you knew that. I've never made a secret out of what a fair-weather cyclist I am.
ANNEEWAY, here are the two sad rides:

Ride #1. Last Wednesday I did the big loop with our usual group of way-faster-than-me friends. Most of them were planning to do a race yesterday (the one I missed, sadly) so they were training. I? I was suffering. And weezing. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad but I certainly felt slow and was certainly sucking wind. Also, I felt heavier than usual, like my frame had been filled with buckshot. Or my bike's frame had. Anyway, it was mostly really hard for a good long way. When we got to Forest Hill (five-ish miles of hills with a super twisty flat section at the end) most of the group decided to do the whole thing without stopping. I opted out of that nonsense and said I was just going to ride it at my own pace...until one of the group remained oh-so tantilizingly within eyesight of me. At one point he stopped to removed a branch from his wheel and I stopped too, just to be nice. Then he took off and suddenly I decided to not let him go. I chased him pretty consistently through the hills and totally up and caught his ass in the flats. Yay! It about killed me, but sometimes you just need a goal. I think he was probably unamused.

Ride #2. The race yesterday was at Poor Farm Park so on Saturday Kenny and I went out there and rode the course. It was the same story for me. Suffering for the first thirty minutes of the ride and full-on action when I got to the flats. I love going fast, what can I say? I will bust a gut to go fast, but not so much to climb a hill. Climbing a hill has no thrill for me unless not dying counts as a thrill. Sometimes it's nice to climb a tricky technical hill and make it all the way up, but it's more fun to catch some sucker on the flats who'd previously assumed you were too slow to ride with. What? Yes, it's me! That girl you assumed was a slow thing has just caught and passed your ass! How are you? Now excuse me while I go cough up a lung.

PS. My very own husband came in 8th place in that race! How excellent is that? I'm proud of him! It was a tough course and he is awesome.