riding obstacles

Remember when I was entertaining the idea of actually trying to race my San Jose? In a cyclocross race when I can barely run?
Yeah, that was funny. Especially because at this point, how heavy I can make my bike has become a personal challenge for me. I am piling on the pounds, yo. In fact, I’m tempted to lose 5 pounds so I can just put that back onto my bike.
But back to cyclocross, which I seem to still be chasing, despite the fact that the season ended sometime in December. I’m not careening down trails or going off-road and jumping over logs, but I climbed over enough obstacles both on and off my bike this weekend that it felt like cyclocross was right around the corner. I almost felt like I could be good at it too [except for that whole “learning how to run” thing].

Because when you’re riding in NYC, it involves a little more than rolling out of your apartment and heading southwest for however long you feel like. So, a quick recap:
9.20 - Wake up. Gauge how much I want coffee.
9.40 - Watch Mike make an Americano. Debate what I want for breakfast [this ended up being 2 slices of Ezekiel bread with almond butter and an apple].
9.45 - “You want to go on a ride, right? Where do you want to go? Wait, you want to go, right?”
10.05 - Slather on the [Chomper Body] Ballocks because why would Mike have any of their awesome women’s specific Booty Balm?
10.15 - Check the weather. Stare at my Underarmour leggings. Ask about 4 times if I should wear them “just in case.”

10.40 - Think I’m ready. Forgot to pack any food. Cut up a Larabar.
11.00 - Finally ready to leave. My bike is not. My pedals get changed.

11.15 - Headed out. Bikes are wheeled out into the hallway; we’re both in socks, holding our shoes Sidis.
11.20 - With a bike over my shoulder, awkwardly bang my way down the narrow stairwell. Put on shoes at the bottom and finally leave the building

11.40 - On our way to Central Park. Nearly get killed by two taxis and almost run over a few pedestrians. Still getting used to clipping in and out after a whole winter in toe clips.
12.00 - Laps in the park. That one hill that is not a huge deal feels like a mountain when shifting gears isn’t an option. It sort of sucks but I somehow manage to climb that motherfucker without dying. I’m notified that I make weird grunting noises.
2.14 - Headed out of the park. Decide to take the West Side Highway back.

2.30 - Ahhhh. What a view.
2.35 - Get stuck behind some hippies on bikes. The sweaty Lycra smell that I associate with cyclists is replaced by the distinctive scent of patchouli. Yum?
3.05 - Home. Done. Reconfirm that the Dover ride is way easier to actually get to.
3.10 - Climb six flights of stairs with shoes on this time, plus the bike on my shoulder. Push away thoughts of luxuries like elevators.

4.00 - Devour that Moroccan Chicken Salad that I’ve been thinking about for the past month from Atlas Cafe. YUM.
Riding a bike in NYC: not for the faint of heart or those who just sort of like it. If you want to do more than 10 miles, get ready to dodge stuff and climb stairs. Kinda like cyclocross...but without the dirt.

a vicious cycle

Everyone know the one dude in college [hopefully only in college] who took pride in being the laziest fucker around. Usually he was perpetually enveloped in a cloud of pot smoke, had some sort of reclining chair in his dorm room, and while he’ll travel any distance to score an 1/8th, he couldn’t be bothered to get up early enough to go to his 1pm class. He considered sleeping and smoking his primary jobs. If he bothered to do anything else, he felt entitled to some sort of extra credit from God.
Those types of dudes always fascinate me. And secretly, sometimes, I wish I could be like that. I wish I could kick back and forget about responsibilities and obligations and everything on the ever-growing “to do” list. I like to tell myself that I could get good at the whole slacking off thing. I could roll out of bed past noon, smoke a joint, and then piss away the rest of the day doing pretty much nothing. And I’d enjoy it.

Unfortunately, I have the unusual ability to place myself in exactly the sort of situations that I’m trying to blow off. Officially on spring break [perhaps my very, very last...of my life...eeppp!], I planned to spend most of the week on a particular couch, in front of a particular TV, forsaking a particular laptop and without a particular bike. I had extensive plans to be completely lazy.
Because while I usually revel in any opportunity to put in quality time on my bike, the past few weeks have delivered enough unnecessary school drama, last-minute meetings, and buttloads of work to transform otherwise relaxing bike time into yet another tedious activity that just had to get done. I managed to avoid the rollers in retaliation, but the guilt of doing so stressed me out even more. It was a vicious cycle [pun intended].

So when spring break rolled around last Friday, I had high hopes to be like That Lazy Dude in College. Those plans - predictably - went the way of Lazy Dude Resolutions To Go To Class. The hope was there, but the execution was slightly totally lacking. My plans essentially died yesterday when I ended up at a small table at The Smile, surrounded by a bunch of bicycle people who were talking, thinking, and writing about bicycles.
Last week, even the idea of sitting around discussing bicycles for about an hour would have had me screaming out of frantic stress and running away while ripping my hair out. Yesterday, though, I avoided the embarrassment and permanent label of “absolutely, completely, without a doubt, batshit crazy” [for the most part] by staying seated and civil. Maybe it was just the incredibly yummy granola with yogurt, or the densely dark Americano, but being enclosed in a small space with bicycle people engaged in bicycle talk wasn’t as terrifyingly stressful as I initially feared. In fact, it was almost kind of normal in a fun kind of way.
I’m far from finding that perfect balance [both literally and figuratively], but I have this hopeful feeling I might not spend the season swinging between two extremes when it comes to bikes. Now I just have to work on pedaling faster than 8mph...