Resurrection

I swear to Ulr, god of snow, that I have been riding my bicycle. Not stretching or even training per say, but definitely riding. Building myself up from an atrophied post-surgery state of fitness has been interesting. Humbling may actually be a better term for it. My approach has been to jump into anything going on around me that sounded epic and beyond my current fitness level (rule of discomfort: leads to a stronger you!). Since I came back into the mix during the time of season most racers were winding down, I didn't feel much pressure to be up and running at full capacity. Instead I just took the day-by-day approach of riding when I felt like it and not when I didn't. Mentally this has worked out great since I tend to destroy my love for bikes when I choose to obsess about the nuances of training instead of, lets say, drinking more beer. At this point it's safe to say that I'm maintaining a bit more focus on riding consistently while I'm home all while staying true to my new longevity approach of caring less. Jeff Schalk, my Trek/VW MTB roommate, spends his days on the other end of this philosophy choosing instead to follow a firm set of self-imposed anti-fun guidelines. This actually works out really well because he makes me feel just lame enough to keep me in a semi-straight line all while indulging in my own antics.

Yesterday Mia Bishop and I took the cross bikes out northwest of town and toured a bunch of the classic "Harri-Roubaix" gravel roads. It blows my mind to go out there and put together a completely refreshed loop and still only be 10 miles from town the whole time. We road the steep, serpentine narrow roads through the valley for three and a half hours only stopping for roadside pee breaks and to run with our bike to warm our frozen toes. The snow fell on us for the first time in at least a year today. Minutes before the snow really started in earnest, an icy, still-forming piece of wet snow landed on my lip. It was invigorating.

Going to NC for a weekend of Cross Madness with the one, the only, EL Gato (a.k.a Jonny Sundt)