gratin d'endives

"Hey, wanna race 'cross?"
Marcus asked me this as he, Eric, and I lingered on Harvard Ave last night after an IBC sushi fest. He just got a new cross bike that he's building up today so maybe I should have expected the question. And even with a belly full of sushi, I nearly pounced at that question.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes.
That question lingered in my head and greeted me this morning, bright and somewhat early. My legs were a little worn out from the psycho 40-miler-plus-running workout combo of yesterday, and I was tempted to do an easy 30 mile loop instead. The hills I'll have to tackle on my decided route...the fact that I'm on a single-speed...my leg being a little achy...

All those got shoved aside as I swung a leg over my bike and didn't stop until I hit Arlington, again. And on the way, I remembered something that made me detour into the heart of Lexington. My aunt used to live here. Between Brussels and Tokyo, my aunt, uncle, and cousins lived in this quaint, little New England town. It was only for a few years, and because I associate my aunt with Belgium instead, it's a fact that I tend to forget.
And sometimes, I wonder if my aunt has as many memories of Lexington as she does of Brussels. I remember one Christmas [yes, my family celebrates it even though we're complete heathens], she brought a small casserole dish that smelled deliciously of cream and cheese. Hiding between those gooey layers were endives, pale with a browned corner here and there, their distinctive bitterness tempered by butter, cream, and Gruyere. My first mouth-watering encounter with the vegetable, I gulped and gobbled it down. That gratin d'endives still has me yearning for Belgium.

As I took pictures of Lexington, I was tempted to call my aunt and cousins. Endives and waffles are amazing, but why did they never get into cycling? Why did they keep secret this sport called cyclocross?
"Wait, oh, you'll have to get another bike," Marcus said, last night.
"That's a 'cross bike. I can race it single-speed," I said as I pointed to my Bianchi.
"Dude, that would be so awesome!"
Or it could just be incredibly embarrassing. Maybe it'll get me to Belgium, though. And even if that takes a few years, I'd endure an hour or so of incredible pain to sink my teeth into a sugary waffle.
Alright, a cupcake might do, too, in a pinch.

highways and hurdles

Dear Mark,
I assume you're not passed out in a ditch somewhere after whatever may have transpired last night to celebrate the end of 2L. I'm hoping you can read this through the haze of your hangover.
Remember yesterday when I ran into you again after our rescheduled exams? And you told me not to take that route to Natick and I should go to Dover instead? And you said that this one route would be good and I'd like it because it's sort of hilly and quiet and nice?
Well, I was really excited about it, and got all changed and jersey-fied for this ride. And then like 5 miles in, I hit a highway.

I actually tried to ride on it, and then I figured maybe I shouldn't, and I tried to see if it was just a sort-of highway that ends but it was kind of scary and I couldn't imagine how I would get back. So, instead, I ended up taking the usual 12 mile loop home and then passed out when I got to my apartment. Dover, fail, apparently.
But today, I managed to make it to Arlington via Lexington. And let me tell you, it's like a whole different world. There are trees and little traffic and even bodies of water were involved! I was totally channeling Rapha Continental [but maybe without the speed, style, and grace]. I mean, this does not look like Massachusetts. Or at least the Massachusetts I'm used to.

The people are incredibly nice too, at least if you're a girl and sweating buckets on some isolated private way with no clue where she's going. Oh, yeah, I did get spit on by some kids on the way back, but I guess that comes with the territory [don't worry, I showered].
And I got lost about five times, but that goes without saying. It made the 35 mile-ish ride into something like 40, and other than a 10 minute break in Arlington, I hardly stopped. Progress, right?

I think I've found my daily route. It even has some legit hills, and twisty roads. If you weren't leaving tomorrow for New York City, I'd drag you and Obersheimer there tomorrow morning. Even though with your respective gears, you'd both dust me. But come August, when you're back, I plan on being at least a little bit stronger.
Time to sink my face into some food. Then a nap maybe, and gym time. Yeah, running starts today. I have difficulty walking, so this will be interesting. Anyway, I'm hungry. See you next week in the city, yeah?
oxox, k