Cycling in the rain

The past few weeks here in Northern California (Nor Cal for those “in the know.”) things have been very wet. Massive storms have blown in dumping heavy rains into a region that is not equipped to handle it. Drainage infrastructure can’t repel a deluge of this magnitude. (Admiral Akbar, Yo! Star Wars reference… keep up!)

Ironman Louisville is 7 months away and a cycling base will not wait for the rain. Hooking the bike to the trainer and peddling in the living room just makes it feel like a rat on a wheel. There are times you have to, and you watch movie after movie or show after show logging away the miles, pushing up the watts. Comfortable in my 70f, living room with the remote control and a coffee table to rest my water bottle.

Then it happened: seeing crumbs on the top tube. What the hell was I doing? I’d lost focus: soap operas and munching. Damnit. Right then I knew I had to get out; damn the rain.

Outside, where the road throws a new obstacle with every peddle crank, the ground is different with each corner, where after an hour of pushing myself hard, I am in a different place than where I began. Literally. Smell the air. Feel the wind. Breathe in the freedom.

Yeah I get wet. Sure my butt and back have a road silt stripe from the back wheel’s rooster tail. It takes twice as long to stop because the breaks are waterlogged. And people look at me funny.

I am a cyclist.

Damn the rain.


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