And miles to go before I sleep…

Categories: me, tri
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Published on: July 3, 2008

About 182 miles, to be exact.

Oh, if you’re going to be nit-picky about it, I’ll actually sleep a little at the 62 and 102 mile mark.  And maybe drown my sore-ass sorrows in a beer or two as well while I’m at it.

But still – that’s a lotta miles to cover in one itty bitty long holiday weekend.  At least for this not-really-a-biker chick it’s a lot of miles.  The plan:  the metric century at the Fourth of July Plainfield ride (on – DUH – July 4th), and then oodles of fun up at the IMMOOOOOO course, with Saturday being one 40-mile loop and Sunday, the grandaddy of all riding days, two times around that 40 mile loop.  My coach is referring to this as the “BIG BIKE WEEKEND”.  Yes, in all caps.  It deserves to be shouted, don’t you think?

Don’t get me wrong – I like my bike and I enjoy riding, especially on a beautiful day.  There’s nothing quite like rolling along when the sun’s shining, and it’s nice and cool out (but not windy!), listening to the cows “mooooo” at you.  And this weekend holds the promise of perfect biking weather.  Still, I’m a little apprehensive.

See, while I like my bike, I don’t LOVE my bike.  We have a relationship much like a “friends with benefits” relationship; we get together every so often, have a great time, and then spend time away doing our own thing without a second thought to the other.  Actually, let’s be honest:  I think I’m dating a little out of my league with this bike — it’s a much more refined machine than I deserve.  My biking skills bow to it’s form and function.

So with all the quality time planned for this weekend, it will be kind of like us testing out the “living together” waters.  Can we get along?  Will one of us leave the other at the side of the road?  Will Little Blue Deuce feel like I’m just constantly riding him (heh) and whining until he can’t take no mo?  Yes, I’m worried.  Worried that we don’t have what it takes to be in a long-term relationship.  Worried that there will be crying and begging and cursing (all me).  Worried that my butt isn’t up to the task of just going along for the ride without organizing a coup.

If nothing else, this weekend will be dramatic.  A battle of wills to see who will make it to the end intact.  And – with their ends intact.

I hope it’s me.

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