During rides with long stretches, I’ll often hit a “zone” whereby I’m simultaneously tuned into and out of every sensory aspect of the ride. It’s kind of hard to grok, but while I notice every pebble and bounce of my bike’s metal beam, I am at the same time be oblivious to the passage of miles. I’ll track the proximities and trajectories of cars, dogs and other cyclists, but I’d be hard-pressed to name the color or make of either.
After the crowd thinned out, I was happily in deep thought. I had been following a rider for a few miles when she introduced herself and made a comment about a friend who hit a rock because he had been paying attention to the women riders’ butts. She dropped back a bit to let me block the wind for a while — I’m a natural at this — or perhaps ponder her previous statement. What is the sound of one hand clapping? What is the sound of one hand clapping? What is the sound of one hand clapping?
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This was the busiest populaire I’ve been to. However, by mile 25, I was off in my own little world for good. Somewhere, I think near Kelly Road, I missed the turn that would have taken me to the secret control. I didn’t realize this until I had already hit the espresso stand at 12:15 (mile 42). The guy stamping cards gave me an awkward look, then I noticed another rider had a colorful stamp from the control I missed. I’m not sure if it would have been sufficient to backtrack to the control, or if would have had to do the whole segment again, or what, but I figured I’d just enjoy the ride back.
The double-shot mocha helped me up Union Hill through Redmond. They (wisely) routed us through Marymoor park (the segment between points 17 and 18 on the map) where I joined the Sammamish River Trail for the nine mile blast back. It was finally starting to warm up and pedestrians were walking three-file along the trail. Unlike last weekend, I didn’t see the infamous Sammamish River Trail chickens bobbing along the path.
Had I not overshot the second secret control, my time for the 65.9 miles would have been 5:20, or 13.3mph on-bike average, pretty dang good for me.
Hi Jim
I’m the culprit that disturbed your zen thoughts – Yep it was Donald Boothby my friend that had a fall due to watching women’s anatomy instead of their wheels.
Good riding with you.
Amy
Well, I zone out too when I go riding. Ask Brian. He hates it when I am on the Burke-Gilman. Soon as we hit the UW area, I am gone.
Safety first, oggling second is my practice. There was, however, #377 on last year’s RSVP. In the bright morning light of Friday morning, her shorts were sheer enough to be almost transparent. Because I ride long intervals at a steady pace, and she happened to ride faster and stop often, I was distracted more than a few times by her passing.
“On your left”, indeed.