I'm not sure if it's because I just don't have enough danger in my life or because I enjoy pain, but I have decided to start a new chapter of my life. The chapter is called Kate, bike racer. Am I good? No. Am I fast? Not really. Am I having fun? Hell yeah!
So, you go out to the Portland International Raceway on Monday nights, slip into something a little more comfortable, i.e. spandex with diaper-thick padding, hop on your bike and go round and round the track as fast as you can, inches away from the wheels in front of and behind you and then when you think you can't go any faster, or any further for that matter, you get to the final straight stretch, stand up out of your saddle, and sprint whatever you have left in your legs across the finish line, slobber streaming across your face.
You probably don't win and even though you're more tired than you've ever been, you wish you could just race for one more lap so you could have a do-over or that the next race wasn't a whole week away, because if you could have just jockeyed for position a second faster you probably could have taken that bitch.
But whatever.
And then the whole ride home you think about how tired you are and how much training you need to do to get better. Anyone want to join me?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment