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
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.