As the ‘Lady ‘ludes to, today was absolovely. Bright crispy clouds here and there but with that spring-clean hi-def look that seems to say they’re just passing through, no rain no foul – yet.
This morning we kicked bootie on the way in. The other night’s personal trainer session, while leaving me virtually crippled Tuesday, paid off huge dividends today. I felt a ton more snap and sap in the limbs, especially this morning. I’m not kidding when I say, for a mid-week ride during a period of heavy crap going on at work I was refreshingly fresh today. On the way home we were easily keeping up with a randonneur type at a much higher speed than usual without any effort, seemingly. What a great feeling. I have high hopes. And really spring is just starting!
With a sunny day, in near-April, comes the bad news: a butt load of bikers out on the Burke. Where did they all come from? Legions of pale but shaven legged wannabes flying past, tucked down and grimacing with their first hard effort of the year; hordes of college kids swooping this way and that on a hodge podge of cyclery, as unpredictable as puppies; commuter types out for their first ‘mute of the year, t-shirts flapping in the wind; and of course those outlier types on the creaky mountain bikes who grunt with every other pedal. Oh the cycle-manity!
Dare I use the word ‘Fred’? Am I qualified yet? Has my application been approved… sound of harp being plucked dreamily…
The Council will now come to order. Under consideration is the application of ______ aka SurlyLad, to reserve and exercise the right to name other bikers as Freds, whether in person or on the interwebs. How say ye?
Look at him, says the skinny guy at the far end of the half-oval meeting table, he doesn’t even shave his legs!
The nice matronly lady on the other end of the table puts in, mildly, But hasn’t he commuted on his bicycle through two winters and is he not starting on his third spring season?
Commuting is not biking! Commuting is a utilitarian exercise that puts uppity notions in heads to make them suddenly too big for their helmets! (this from the retro-grouch near the center, wearing his faded ‘Faemino’ jersey which is by now much, much too small for him).
Chairman: As chairman of this council, I would put it to a vote but we only have a few hours of sun left, so I say, APPLICATION DENIED. Try again next year.
Bummer. Well, at least I can consider myself near the head of the Freds. Hopefully my new Sidis will create a little respectful space for me up in that rarified zone.