Morning Ride

It's a great feeling to get in almost 3 hours of exercise and a shower before 8 a.m. Of course the pain of getting out of bed at 4:30 is sometimes almost unbearable. Is it just me or do others feel actual pain that early in the morning? I've finally taught myself that the feeling only lasts until I get on my bike. Every Thursday, Nancy is waiting for me on Island Drive with her bright headlight catching my eyes. Once or twice she's been early and ridden up and down the road. I know that there are no other crazy people on bikes that time of the morning, so the light belongs to her. We ride sometimes quietly, but more often with sleepy chatter (at least mine is sleepy), hoarse voices (ok, that's just me), and half opened eyes (yeah, me again).

About 15 minutes over the bridge and down a deserted 2nd Street later, we get to the Y where Jonathan and Brian meet us for the rest of the warm up ride to Highland. The warm up is often a tour of early morning smells. Sometimes it starts with a bacony barbecue smell from some restaurant on Main. Today it was an overwhelming fresh baked bread scent from the Wonder Bread Factory. Next we ride past another bbq joint and a CK's diner with its bacon and hasbrowns. Further down Union is the donut shop. If it weren't for the early morning hour and the English muffin sitting in my tummy, I think I'd turn right into several of those stores for a snack.

Forty minutes or so after leaving my house we get to the meeting place of the group ride. By then there's some traffic, cyclists coming from all directions, and during the long summer days, a little light in the sky.

Today, still dark at 5:44, the lights of the railroad crossing began flashing as a train's horn signaled its approach. Now at this crossing, the trains are just leaving the yard and only beginning to pick up speed. When coming from the other direction, they often come to a full stop, dividing the university campus and backing traffic up for miles. Today that wouldn't be a problem. It seems, however, that a few of the 50 or 60 riders get a little fidgety at that time of morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the sound of the train's horn meant the first sprint was underway. I wasn't convinced that many of the guys would actually cross with only a few seconds to spare until I found myself with about 8 or 9 others stuck on the wrong side of the tracks, sitting still, with nowhere to go. No bridge, no overpass, no shortcut to take. We were OTB before a pack had even formed. Five minutes is eternal when you know what's going on down the road and can do nothing to stop it. Of course there was no soft pedaling for the weenies who didn't have the guts to risk their lives on the tracks. I think none of us expected for that many to get across in time.

When we finally did start riding again, a couple of guys looked like they wanted to chase down the group. That effort lasted about 30 seconds (doing the math, we'd have to go about 2mph faster than the group to catch them by the end, catching no red lights). The 10 of us actually had a good ride, as can happen when you actually take a pull (yay, finally!) and don't have the draft of 30 people to ride in. It was somehow a calm, quiet ride, at least relative to the mayhem of the usual pack.

Of course we had a couple of scary guys out there; there are enough to go around. One was wearing no helmet, which leads me to believe that he has never kept up with the group before. If he had, he'd know how many people ride like maniacs out there and how endangered his life is. I guess when you don't realize the importance of your brain, maybe your brain isn't that important in your day to day life.

The other guy at least had a helmet on. But he'd be second in line and suddenly sit up, hands off the hoods, to mess with his glasses or something. Dude, can you at least not backpedal with no hands and 8 people behind you? Thanks.

The ride actually went by fast and before I knew it we had caught a few stragglers and were headed home on Shady Grove. There was a cool breeze, a few smooth roads, and nothing standing between me and my second breakfast but a few miles of coasting. Oh, and a 2 mile brick. I love Ironman training!