First singletrack ride of the year happened tonight... and guess what?
I, yes... ME... I was mashing it out (I know.. trying to cure myself of the mashing stuff) in big ring for 3/4 of the ride before realizing I was IN THE BIG RING! I mean, I shifted to what I THOUGHT was middle while huffing up a hill that was getting the best of my lungs only to discover... I had ANOTHER smaller gear!?! Dang, that was a sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet moment.
I went from feeling like...
WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY LEGS ...??
Why can't I get my SPIN on?
WHY did I EAT that MOOMER'S ice cream to death all winter long!??
WHY did kettlebells add this insane (ha ha) muscle mass to my quads that feel like boat anchors!??
Why are those guys riding right away from me!?? (well, I ask that one a lot.. big, middle..small.. yah)
HOLY CANNOLI! I might be in better shape* than I thought!?
Ohhh yes, thank you to life's little pleasures & grandiose realizations on a toe numbing, lung aching, nose dripping... FREEZING cold ride.
*Better Shape: Relative term.... relative to the number of Netflix reality series I watched this winter enjoying Moomer's raspberry ice-cream with chocolate pieces minus the number of hours I led spinning & swung kettlebells. Factor in a really horrendous spring of outdoor riding... Yah, I am thinking I am doing ok.
Note to SELF:
This officially marks the 2nd time you have big-ringed it during a "spring" (spring in quotations because I still don't believe that it is spring) training ride THIS year. Remember the first time? You were trying to kill that seriously long hill with G and you thought you were going to puke or throw your bike into the ditch? The SNOWY ditch? Well, you really need to learn your lesson... or at the very least, learn to read that little window indicator. Yah, get your eyes examined. ASAP.
Truly & Honestly,
So, when I realized my fatal mistake...(I say fatal because trying to blast up serious hills in a big ring doesn't agree with the legs.....especially early season, especially early in the ride....) WELL, I laughed inside (between gasps of inhaled cold air, of course, which was working on cementing my soft lung tissues into nasty, snarly mess o' congealed material).
Hardy har har... take that you .. YOU extra 10 pounds! ok... 12 pounds? 12.75? ... be nice.