I realized, on my pre-Vuelta ride this weekend, that we’ve kind of come a long way. It hasn’t been long since we’ve known each other – almost a year and a half – but you’ve been with me through some hard times. Remember that crash back in October last year that left me with a left arm that still doesn’t work so good? And the weird health problems that kind of floored me for six months this year? You stuck around, through all of it. I guess that’s what real friends are made of.
Our easy friendship wasn’t always like this, was it? I remember when I met you for the first time. You seemed a little too much for me; just really cool and something I didn’t really deserve to know. I was kind of overwhelmed, actually. And maybe that’s why, when we started to go on rides together, I started to toe the line of co-dependence. I felt a little paralyzed when you just needed to recharge your batteries and couldn’t ride with me. It’s a little embarrassing to admit now, but there were a few times I almost didn’t ride because you weren’t around. Okay, full disclosure: I panicked because you claimed you were at like 3%, that you’d only last 10 minutes on the bike. I thought, “well, how could I ride then?” I did, though, but it was close.
Can you blame me? We became inseparable pretty quickly. I’d always have my face in yours, and we’d do that thing where we’d stare into each other’s eyes for dangerously long periods of time while we were coasting along. I totally almost crashed into stuff like 10 times. You remember that, right?
And when I got my power meter, you were as excited as I was! You pushed me when I needed it, but also showed me when I had to dial it back a little and relax. I’ve always sucked at the latter, but you were right; I made some crazy gains with your help. I eventually got used to looking at you – I guess you became familiar – but I never stopped thinking you were pretty sexy. You’re smaller than some, sure, but I think it makes you more adorable. Like I want to just tuck you into my pocket and take you all around Tokyo.
I could go on and on about the times we’ve had, and I know you’ll recall all of it, too (I’ve always admired how easily you remember things). I’m not paralyzed without you on rides anymore; I actually like our weekend deals where we ride around, not so much focused on each other anymore, but still together. I think you like it, too (if only for the safety factor).
There’s more we’ll see, I’m sure. Different countries, places, friends. I expect you to call me on my BS (“yeah you wish your FTP was that high”), and to never lie to me about the grade of an incline (“are you seriously suffering this hard on a 12%?”). In return, I will keep you sheltered, fed, and firmly attached to my stem. Promise. Cross my heart.
Because we’ve come this far together, Garmin 500. I don’t intend to trade you in for anything else.