|Dear Jesus, if you are going to send a|
blizzard, I would prefer mine with
Well, the good Lord saw fit to dump a bunch of snow on our neck of the woods.
*Searching my brain for a Pollyanna-type comment*
It's really pretty from inside my warm and cozy house.
If I had my choice I would live somewhere warm and sunny all the time. So today's post is a return to my happy place, when I could ride my bike outside on a wooded trail while wearing a tank top. Bliss. Here is a day in the life of a hardcore trail-riding cyclist
And THAT'S How I Won the X-Games (posted in June)
Facebook Status: It may be all Zen to you to practice your flute in the middle of the woods at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, but to me, on my first trail ride, coming around a bend and hearing faint strains of Bach's Partita in A minor only reminds me a bit of a whacked out suburban version of Deliverance. And I'm already peddling as fast as I can.
Yep. My first trail ride.
I left the house at around 6:15 a.m. after mapping and remapping my route obsessively via mapmyride.com. I had 12 miles scheduled and I've been spoiled by Sarah planning our routes. But she couldn't bike that day so I decided to Navy Seal it and do some trail riding. (Because if Navy Seals rode their bikes to train for a sprint triathlon they would totally go trail. Blindfolded. While being chased by rabid squirrels.) Also, major roads (the kinds my neighborhood is surrounded by) still freak me out (maybe because Brian, in his deep seeded love for cyclists, mentions
I spent most of the ride pretending I was in the X-Games. I made sure I had my hardcore face on, and skidded on the gravel as much as possible because I have poor balance and limited overall control of my ride. There were a ton of (imaginary and consequently invisible) fans cheering me on, and I mugged for the (again, imaginary and invisible) cameras and enjoyed a few voice-over commentary moments. Like,
"Kelly, tell us about that last turn, where it looked as if you were going to attempt a full pirouetting dismount."
"Well, John, it got dicey out there. I was going so fast and misjudged the angle. (Insert dramatic pause to catch my breath because I had just finished the event and won.) I thought I was going to have to bail and didn't want to eat it on those
"Kelly, on bridge number four you made this fantastic face - tell us what you were thinking."
"Are you referring to when I came out of the saddle, John? I was thinking, "I'm totally riding out of the saddle. In the middle of the woods. And it's gorgeous out. And since I'm standing up I can see the
*not a political statement. It's simply that I have a gaggle of girlies and have partaken in my fair share of actual tea parties. And they are nothing like the X-Games. But now that I'm on a tangent, I remember my children frequently wear their bathing suits and jump off the couch into a blue comforter. They also paddle board, surf, and barefoot ski on the same blue comforter, so, yeah, my house is pretty much like a year round X-Games.
Miles 8-9 took place on a paved trail where I experienced my first X-Games medal ceremony. And really, it was almost embarrassing to win so many of the gold. I also saw a group of deer, which was cool but completely unexpected as I was really close to a major highway. Because I was going so fast (have I mentioned that yet?) I came upon them suddenly, and they were only a few feet away before they took off.
Also? I've seen a number of sweet neighborhood rabbits on my morning runs. They generally slowly hop away as I approach. But I have a different effect on rabbits while on my bike. They freak the heck out. I wanted to be all, "Dude, rabbits, I'm cool. I wouldn't run you over or hunt you. Even if it was the end of the world. Or the Hunger Games. Probably." But then I thought about it and knew I was lying in my head to those poor rabbits. But maybe not. Because although I would totally eat them during the Hunger Games, I would let someone else hunt them. So, semantics = not a liar. Awesome.
I have another trail ride tomorrow - a scheduled 15 miles. And in honor of the summer Olympics, I might take a break from the X-Games, and enter a few cycling events there. So I'll probably pass Michael Phelps as the most successful athlete in history. Better call Guinness. (The World Records, not the beer.) (Heathen.)