I missed out on the group ride this morning because my bike was still in the shop. So I ran to the YMCA instead and lifted. I looked at some pictures of the UO team’s ride today on Facebook and was chilled to the bone at the sight of all the fog and warm clothes people were wearing up there in Eugene. Every time I step outside in a pair of shorts, T-shirt, sunglasses, and sandals, I can barely believe it’s November. And because of this, even doing seemingly boring things like walking to a store or the Y are filled with joy. In case any of you forgot, the sun feels really really good.
After I got back from the gym, Aaron and Tony and I went to Costco, where I salivated over the samples in my quasi-sane state of mind. Stupidly, I hadn’t eaten (very much) before we went shopping, but I resisted buying any junk food. Although I did eat a piece of pizza.
My bike was finished up by the time we got home, so I went and picked it up at Fair Wheel Bikes and had enough time to get in a little over three hours before it got dark. I felt great today. I had an unbelievable amount of energy. 350 watts felt like 200, and I had to force myself to calm down. It was hot out, but later in the evening it started cooling down and if it hadn’t started getting dark, I felt like I could have done another seven hours without tiring. Near the end of the ride, I caught up with the tail end of the Tour de Tucson, which is a giant bike tour that attracts thousands of cyclists from all around the country. I began passing these stragglers like they were standing still and I was in a rocket ship powered by 10,000 Clydesdales. The other riders, the police controlling traffic at intersections, and the volunteers along side the road handing out food, must have all thought I was part of the tour. Because they began cheering for me and calling out times as I went through each intersection. I passed a large food stand and began slowing down, contemplating how I would explain that I had lost my bib number because I forgot to close the safety pins. And then greedily stuff my pockets with power bars before they had time to think about what I had just said. I thought better of it, and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. But tomorrow I’m definitely going back and picking up as many discarded water bottles as I can carry.
KENNETT PETERSON 