Got Dropped – ugghh
09-24-05, 05:12 PM
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Got Dropped – ugghh
I had planned a big ride today, as it promised to be (and was) the perfect fall day (sunny, 70ish F, low humidity) and possibly the last one we’re likely to have before it turns cold. Day arrived, and I felt crappy (having exerted myself the last night in other, not so healthy, ways). So I spent the day inside reading and cleaning and doing “household stuff.” By 6:00, I still felt a bit off colour, but was kicking myself for being indoors all day and decided I needed a movie for the evening, and the movie place being a 5+ mile round trip would be the perfect excuse to go out and get a wee bit of exersize.
On the way back waiting at a stoplight at a busy intersection, a guy went by me on a yellow… well, I don’t know what it was – I didn’t see him that well – but it was yellow, and looked nice. And yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
Then, I caught myself. To prove what? That you can drop a guy 2/3 your age. That you’re not getting old? That you’re not uncomfortably close to middle age? That a 15-year-old Peugeot is still a sweet ride? That can drop bikes half its age and weight? Especially something so… yellow! Screw it, I thought. You don’t feel great, and this is a light commuter ride, not Le Tour.
So I settled into a nice comfortable cadence around 20 mph and let him go. But he didn’t. I was steadily gaining on him. Okay, time for a compromise between competitive and reasonable. I’ll drop him if I don’t have to work for it. And the distance closed, even as the road started to climb. I held my pace. I was just about on his wheel now, and I wasn’t even sure he knew I was there. I felt like I had reserves for an attack if it came to that – but HEY! – that’s not what I’m here for. I’ll take him down, but I’m not gonna work for it. Not tonight.
Now, we came to a busy intersection and a red light – time to slow down. Mr. Yellow slowed a bit, and then veered off to the left and into the road. Oh well, thought I, he’s turning. Could have been interesting. He skirted the traffic on the left, and then charged on straight! WTF?! The light changed and I dropped the hammer… or would have. I dropped it, but it didn’t go anywhere. I was spent. The ride to the store had used up all the energy I had after sitting around all day smoking too many cigarettes. Not to mention the night before… ohhh…
But I was still in this thing. But the next intersection he made it through the light and I had to slow down. Then a negotiation with an SUV as to who had the right of way – he did, and I thought that I was pretty good about indicating to him that I knew that, but he was hesitant and I had to come to a nearly complete stop. My newfound nemesis had gained precious seconds that I was in no shape to make up.
The hill crested giving way to a lovely downhill, I would catch him there I thought, but I puked out getting to the top of the hill, and he was gone. Screw it, thought I, it’s not a race, and you’re in no shape for this today. I spun lightly the rest of the way home enjoying the lovely evening sunset and cool air.
So why can’t I let it go?
On the way back waiting at a stoplight at a busy intersection, a guy went by me on a yellow… well, I don’t know what it was – I didn’t see him that well – but it was yellow, and looked nice. And yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
Then, I caught myself. To prove what? That you can drop a guy 2/3 your age. That you’re not getting old? That you’re not uncomfortably close to middle age? That a 15-year-old Peugeot is still a sweet ride? That can drop bikes half its age and weight? Especially something so… yellow! Screw it, I thought. You don’t feel great, and this is a light commuter ride, not Le Tour.
So I settled into a nice comfortable cadence around 20 mph and let him go. But he didn’t. I was steadily gaining on him. Okay, time for a compromise between competitive and reasonable. I’ll drop him if I don’t have to work for it. And the distance closed, even as the road started to climb. I held my pace. I was just about on his wheel now, and I wasn’t even sure he knew I was there. I felt like I had reserves for an attack if it came to that – but HEY! – that’s not what I’m here for. I’ll take him down, but I’m not gonna work for it. Not tonight.
Now, we came to a busy intersection and a red light – time to slow down. Mr. Yellow slowed a bit, and then veered off to the left and into the road. Oh well, thought I, he’s turning. Could have been interesting. He skirted the traffic on the left, and then charged on straight! WTF?! The light changed and I dropped the hammer… or would have. I dropped it, but it didn’t go anywhere. I was spent. The ride to the store had used up all the energy I had after sitting around all day smoking too many cigarettes. Not to mention the night before… ohhh…
But I was still in this thing. But the next intersection he made it through the light and I had to slow down. Then a negotiation with an SUV as to who had the right of way – he did, and I thought that I was pretty good about indicating to him that I knew that, but he was hesitant and I had to come to a nearly complete stop. My newfound nemesis had gained precious seconds that I was in no shape to make up.
The hill crested giving way to a lovely downhill, I would catch him there I thought, but I puked out getting to the top of the hill, and he was gone. Screw it, thought I, it’s not a race, and you’re in no shape for this today. I spun lightly the rest of the way home enjoying the lovely evening sunset and cool air.
So why can’t I let it go?
09-24-05, 05:30 PM
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Originally Posted by awunder
I had planned a big ride today, as it promised to be (and was) the perfect fall day (sunny, 70ish F, low humidity) and possibly the last one we’re likely to have before it turns cold. Day arrived, and I felt crappy (having exerted myself the last night in other, not so healthy, ways). So I spent the day inside reading and cleaning and doing “household stuff.” By 6:00, I still felt a bit off colour, but was kicking myself for being indoors all day and decided I needed a movie for the evening, and the movie place being a 5+ mile round trip would be the perfect excuse to go out and get a wee bit of exersize.
On the way back waiting at a stoplight at a busy intersection, a guy went by me on a yellow… well, I don’t know what it was – I didn’t see him that well – but it was yellow, and looked nice. And yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
Then, I caught myself. To prove what? That you can drop a guy 2/3 your age. That you’re not getting old? That you’re not uncomfortably close to middle age? That a 15-year-old Peugeot is still a sweet ride? That can drop bikes half its age and weight? Especially something so… yellow! Screw it, I thought. You don’t feel great, and this is a light commuter ride, not Le Tour.
So I settled into a nice comfortable cadence around 20 mph and let him go. But he didn’t. I was steadily gaining on him. Okay, time for a compromise between competitive and reasonable. I’ll drop him if I don’t have to work for it. And the distance closed, even as the road started to climb. I held my pace. I was just about on his wheel now, and I wasn’t even sure he knew I was there. I felt like I had reserves for an attack if it came to that – but HEY! – that’s not what I’m here for. I’ll take him down, but I’m not gonna work for it. Not tonight.
Now, we came to a busy intersection and a red light – time to slow down. Mr. Yellow slowed a bit, and then veered off to the left and into the road. Oh well, thought I, he’s turning. Could have been interesting. He skirted the traffic on the left, and then charged on straight! WTF?! The light changed and I dropped the hammer… or would have. I dropped it, but it didn’t go anywhere. I was spent. The ride to the store had used up all the energy I had after sitting around all day smoking too many cigarettes. Not to mention the night before… ohhh…
But I was still in this thing. But the next intersection he made it through the light and I had to slow down. Then a negotiation with an SUV as to who had the right of way – he did, and I thought that I was pretty good about indicating to him that I knew that, but he was hesitant and I had to come to a nearly complete stop. My newfound nemesis had gained precious seconds that I was in no shape to make up.
The hill crested giving way to a lovely downhill, I would catch him there I thought, but I puked out getting to the top of the hill, and he was gone. Screw it, thought I, it’s not a race, and you’re in no shape for this today. I spun lightly the rest of the way home enjoying the lovely evening sunset and cool air.
So why can’t I let it go?
On the way back waiting at a stoplight at a busy intersection, a guy went by me on a yellow… well, I don’t know what it was – I didn’t see him that well – but it was yellow, and looked nice. And yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
Then, I caught myself. To prove what? That you can drop a guy 2/3 your age. That you’re not getting old? That you’re not uncomfortably close to middle age? That a 15-year-old Peugeot is still a sweet ride? That can drop bikes half its age and weight? Especially something so… yellow! Screw it, I thought. You don’t feel great, and this is a light commuter ride, not Le Tour.
So I settled into a nice comfortable cadence around 20 mph and let him go. But he didn’t. I was steadily gaining on him. Okay, time for a compromise between competitive and reasonable. I’ll drop him if I don’t have to work for it. And the distance closed, even as the road started to climb. I held my pace. I was just about on his wheel now, and I wasn’t even sure he knew I was there. I felt like I had reserves for an attack if it came to that – but HEY! – that’s not what I’m here for. I’ll take him down, but I’m not gonna work for it. Not tonight.
Now, we came to a busy intersection and a red light – time to slow down. Mr. Yellow slowed a bit, and then veered off to the left and into the road. Oh well, thought I, he’s turning. Could have been interesting. He skirted the traffic on the left, and then charged on straight! WTF?! The light changed and I dropped the hammer… or would have. I dropped it, but it didn’t go anywhere. I was spent. The ride to the store had used up all the energy I had after sitting around all day smoking too many cigarettes. Not to mention the night before… ohhh…
But I was still in this thing. But the next intersection he made it through the light and I had to slow down. Then a negotiation with an SUV as to who had the right of way – he did, and I thought that I was pretty good about indicating to him that I knew that, but he was hesitant and I had to come to a nearly complete stop. My newfound nemesis had gained precious seconds that I was in no shape to make up.
The hill crested giving way to a lovely downhill, I would catch him there I thought, but I puked out getting to the top of the hill, and he was gone. Screw it, thought I, it’s not a race, and you’re in no shape for this today. I spun lightly the rest of the way home enjoying the lovely evening sunset and cool air.
So why can’t I let it go?
What hurts is when you reel in some guy and you riding together about 23-24 mph for about 5 miles or so and then the guy gives you the look...hehe...and sprints off. No shame in being dropped by a stronger rider. Enjoyed your story.
Cheers,
George
09-24-05, 06:44 PM
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Originally Posted by awunder
I’ll drop him if I don’t have to work for it.
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"Let us hope our weapons are never needed --but do not forget what the common people knew when they demanded the Bill of Rights: An armed citizenry is the first defense, the best defense, and the final defense against tyranny. If guns are outlawed, only the government will have guns. Only the police, the secret police, the military, the hired servants of our rulers. Only the government -- and a few outlaws. I intend to be among the outlaws" - Edward Abbey
09-24-05, 06:47 PM
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Originally Posted by awunder
On the way back waiting at a stoplight at a busy intersection, a guy went by me on a yellow… well, I don’t know what it was – I didn’t see him that well – but it was yellow, and looked nice. And yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
At that moment, the light changed and I clipped in and took off after him – my competitive streak gone wild – I’m gonna get that guy. Find out what he’s riding that’s so… yellow.
