Sometimes I like to laugh at someone (slightly) funnier than himself. Sometimes.
Sometimes I like to drive to Durham to laugh at someone (slightly) funnier than myself. Sometimes.
One of those times was Friday. Lindsey and I had date night in the (slightly) faraway land of Durham, where we saw this (hilarious) jester:
I highly recommend you see him if you have the chance!
Saturday I did what every good cyclist does; I woke up and spent the morning on the bike. I wanted to get a TON of miles in, somewhere close to 80 if possible. I charged out a little later than I planned, as I often do when left to my own distractable devices on a Saturday morning.
Lindsey was working until early afternoon so I had the time, and the energy to hammer on the bike. I rolled out solo with no particular plan, knowing I was going to at least get some miles in around Jordan Lake. Whilst sitting at a stop sign approximately 10 miles into my ride, my buddy Grant rode by with another friend Dave and called out to me. I jumped on the pedals and chased them down, then rode the next 6 or so miles with them. At the next crossroads we stopped and chatted a bit, they were finishing up their ride for the day, and we parted ways.
I continued to the other side of the lake, feeling good, hitting the hills hard, just enjoying what I would consider our first day of true spring weather. I was a bit overdressed with arm and knee warmers, but it was borderline most of the day and there was still a bit of chill in the wind. Riding in the changing sun/shade conditions on Big Woods Road proved that it is best to be prepared this time of year. While I was out that way, I saw another rider come into view ahead of me. He was older, but in good shape, and had some strong form. When I finally caught him, we traded off riding in front for a few miles, then sort of rode lazy and had some brief conversation. He was also wrapping up his ride, and eventually turned off. Then it was just me again, a man alone with his thoughts. Just the way I like it.
I was so in the zone and having a blast, I lost track of time. I looked down at my watch and realized it was getting to be time to head home. We were meeting friends for dinner, and I wanted to be home early enough to get some recovery food in me without spoiling what promised to be a good meal. I was going to have to be satisfied with 55 miles. Honestly, I was more than satisfied. It was the kind of day on the bike that keeps me coming back for more. It was the type of day that I describe to my non cycling friends when they ask why I ride. Most of all, it was a much needed respite from freezing rain and cold road grime coating my embrocated legs.
