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| January 20, 2014 |
I had to talk myself into today's ride. Today was supposed to be about the after-glow of the Patriot's victory in the AFC Championship Game against Denver, a day to sleep in, have a leisurely breakfast with lots of coffee and toast, and enjoy the sports pages. Argh! Somehow the Patriots didn't get the memo and LOST and in the wake of that debacle yesterday afternoon, I ate more lamb than I should have, and drank freely of the big Chimay Ales in the fridge, and stayed up late last night scribbling gibberish in my notebook.
So that today I was more than a bit fuzzy & foggy when I woke. Parched. Dehydrated. And fatter. I forgot to mention that Saturday night we had a dinner party of epic proportions, 13 of us in total, a giant turkey, gratins of cheesy potatoes, splashing flagons, a wheel of Brie baked in a brioche, gooey spinach artichoke dip, bread, brownies and cake. I ate like a stevedore. Then re-visited my gluttony yesterday with football, more Belgian ale, a leg of lamb, braised cabbage with apples, a spinach salad heaped with hard boiled eggs, feta cheese, red onions, and a bath of glistening olive oil. A debauch of wonder! Which lead directly to the scale this morning and a 3+ lb weight gain; 149.9 lbs. A chicken wing shy of 150.
But the dripping eaves alerted me to the fact that something mild was going on outside. When I went out to run an errand shortly after noon, I could see that the roads were by and large dry, even though we had 4 inches of snow just two days ago. They were ride-able.
I told myself that I had to ride. Conditions permitted it. Seize every opportunity, no matter how small. Ride for 30 minutes. 45 minutes. Ride around the neighborhood like a criterion. But ride when the chance is there. So I did. And it ended up being excellent, though I was not strong. The roads were not a problem, it was a holiday Monday afternoon so there were few cars out; I managed a 90 minute ride in the hills, an unexpected Sholan Loop.
Ride stats: 16.54 miles (25k), about 90 minutes (the potential for ice slow the pace), 12.1 mph. 40 degrees when I got home.
Bonne Velo Lescaret !
ReplyDeleteYou are inspiring me to shed my winter sloth.Take any opportunity to ride: "Seize every opportunity, no matter how small."
Love it.
> Lanterne Rogue.
C'est incroyable! January 20 and you are in the saddle, under layers, the wheels whirring beneath you, seizing the moment. And those menus sound equally incredible! Yowza! Wheel of brie in a brioche! I hope it was the 2-foot wide brie stolen by "la souris", the street urchin who will go on to win le Tour in 5 yrs, now prowling the docks of la Rochelle. Next he will steal a perfectly-fitting Pinarello carbon with D2 that a foolish tourist will leave standing outside a harbor cafe, thinking it's safe there in view for a minute while he chugs an espresso. And in a flash la souris is on it and off, tearing down a side street, wheeling onto the ugly la Rochelle Periferique, dodging taxis and lorries and howling Algerian drivers, out past the monument to Napoleon and Degaul and the heros of the Resistance, to the edge of town where he begins to chuckle to himself, enjoying the electic shifting and thinking, Carpe diem carpe diem, ha ha ha, quel Carp, un poisson grand, un bon velo hmmmm... SCROD
ReplyDeleteYou Scrod monster. Alas, the wheel of brie arrived en brioche via a much more prosaic manner, namely one TK from Athol in his mini Cooper. But I like your vignette much better, particularly the "howling Algerian drivers."
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