It Was a Dark and Stormy Night.
Whoever came up with daylight savings time needs to be whacked upside the head.
I knew nobody was going to show.
It was a 15 mile ride to the meeting place.
It was raining.
It was dark.
I rode anyway. What else was I going to do?
Just because, I decided to take an alternate route to the meeting place. That was a mistake. 15 miles became 30. Dark became "shit, that's dark". Despite my blinky lights and all of my reflective gear, I was buzzed more often than not. They saw me. They just didn't care.
Nobody showed.
I rode back to base, then did laps until I had enough miles to say I actually did something with my night. Round and round.
It wasn't the same, but you know what? I had fun. I had fun squinting into the rain, watching the water arc off my front wheel. My bespoke Rapha cycling cap kept the rain out of my eyes, making me feel all Belgian and stuff even though it was likely above 65F. I like these sorts of rides once in a while, because it was different. Different is something I've been missing lately.
I missed riding with the guys, especially since I will be leaving soon. Sometimes things happen for a reason, to remind you of what actually holds value and what doesn't. Riding with a great group is what I consider the good stuff. It's the best part of the sport. I still like riding alone with my thoughts and interacting with my environment in a very personal way, but the social part can't be ignored. The encouragement, the motivational stimuli, the "screw that guy, he ain't dropping me"... it's what makes cycling... cycling.
Of course, this could all be the ramblings of a waterlogged roadie.
I knew nobody was going to show.
It was a 15 mile ride to the meeting place.
It was raining.
It was dark.
I rode anyway. What else was I going to do?
Just because, I decided to take an alternate route to the meeting place. That was a mistake. 15 miles became 30. Dark became "shit, that's dark". Despite my blinky lights and all of my reflective gear, I was buzzed more often than not. They saw me. They just didn't care.
Nobody showed.
I rode back to base, then did laps until I had enough miles to say I actually did something with my night. Round and round.
It wasn't the same, but you know what? I had fun. I had fun squinting into the rain, watching the water arc off my front wheel. My bespoke Rapha cycling cap kept the rain out of my eyes, making me feel all Belgian and stuff even though it was likely above 65F. I like these sorts of rides once in a while, because it was different. Different is something I've been missing lately.
I missed riding with the guys, especially since I will be leaving soon. Sometimes things happen for a reason, to remind you of what actually holds value and what doesn't. Riding with a great group is what I consider the good stuff. It's the best part of the sport. I still like riding alone with my thoughts and interacting with my environment in a very personal way, but the social part can't be ignored. The encouragement, the motivational stimuli, the "screw that guy, he ain't dropping me"... it's what makes cycling... cycling.
Of course, this could all be the ramblings of a waterlogged roadie.
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