I admit it, I looked [read?] like a total idiot yesterday when several hours after my dramatic whine-fest, the weather turned out to be pretty frickin’ gorgeous.
Other than that whole giant gusts of wind that made it feel like I was running through water thing.
Yesterday was actually the first time I did that Dover ride in winds that strong. That’s saying a lot, given my wind allergy. But after more than two days off the bike, I was getting impatient, and worse, feeling really lazy and lethargic. Vitamin D was calling my name late yesterday morning, between a 8.30 class, a small pile of art law reading, and a blitzkrieg of cite checking. I also really wanted to start putting the DS plan into action. Never mind that the wind kept trying to tear the bike out from under me on the way to and from school. Headwind ain’t a thanggggg.
Or so I thought. Until my thighs started burning within the first 30 minutes into my ride and it really didn’t seem like I was moving forward. At all.
You know how when you’re riding with other people and you’re fighting a decent headwind and someone says, “well, at least we’ll get a good tailwind on the way back!”? I always want to slap those people. Mostly because that headwind consistently turns into another headwind as soon as I turn around. Wind and I do not have an amicable relationship.
And that’s exactly what happened. I felt like I was cheating a little bit, trying for a negative split on the way back, almost believing that the wind would be on my side. Not true. I mean, I did get a negative split [yay!], but I had to book it; and at a certain point, I’m pretty sure I was going about 8mph. I was trying really hard to maintain that speed, too.
One perk, though: I had nothing on my back this time, proper shoes, gloves, and a slightly windproof jacket. I felt so weightless...until, of course, that wind tried to push my bike over, smother me, make me actually pedal down the hills, and otherwise make me cry my ride slightly miserable.
The short ride done, I rewarded my legs with a new snack combo: Fig Newmans broken up into Fage nonfat greek yogurt. Sounds gross but was actually really delicious. It even kept me conscious through cite checking 214 footnotes later that night [okay, that Americano might have had something to do with it, too]. As usual, I was unjustifiably proud of myself. Happily exhausted, I came home late last night to find an email from the faux-ch with about 10 million links to possibly affordable frame sets [isn’t he nice?]. That made me even happier, even if most wouldn’t really fit.
And it’s made me more motivated, too, in a weird way. So I’m off again to make the faux-ch proud [or try]. Because it’s gorgeous out, again.
Go get you on a bicycle!
[Thanks for the jersey recommendations, guys! Keep them coming!]