Radio Free Kirkopolis

Holy cow, a post… well you know ‘the muse’ and all.
In addition to keeping me in shape, my riding has been really therapeutic during my whole “thing” so needless to say, I’m doing a lot of it.
I’ve since hooked up with this guy that I knew from a few years ago that has been riding pretty much since the dawn of time. He’s a really nice guy, strong Christian and one of those all around good listeners. He’s a very positive individual. Within the past few years, most of the people I know in my little ‘berg have moved away, so it’s nice to have a friend that’s close by.
Anyway he rides with a few other guys on Tuesdays and he invited me to tag along. “Great” I says to him, “I’ve been looking forward to a group ride.” Group rides are a great way to improve, not only do other people give you tips along the way, but if you get tired you can always ride behind and use the draft. Most importantly however is the fact that you always push yourself to keep up with the fastest guy in the pack.
So I meet up with these guys and I’m feelin’ like a million bucks. I got a good night sleep, ate lots of carbs, and knew they’d look out for. Now I knew I’d struggle to keep up with these guys, but I was pretty confident I wouldn’t do too bad- after all, I’ve got the commitment (even shaved those legs), and have been averaging 25-30 miles per ride over some rough hills and at a pretty good pace, all without the aid of a draft. So, how bad could it be?
SWEET MOTHER OF HONEY BADGERS!!! These guys destroyed me. I was the youngest one at 35. My old buddy (Rob is his name) is about 39 and the other two guys are in their mid 40’s. After the first 8 miles I thought I was going to die. After the first 10 miles I was sure of it. They knew I was capable of about 25 but they were looking to do about 45-50, so at mile 12 or so I split off and headed back. I wound up doing just at 25 miles, which is nothing unusual for me, but not at that breakneck of a pace.
Have you ever gone out swimming for the first time all summer, and wound up swimming all day? You know the feeling the next day that you’re so sore that even your hair hurts? Yup, that was me.
I got totally killed by these fellas, each one, strong as a bull. Best of all, they are really supportive and generally nice guys.
You better believe that I’m going to be there each week, each ride pushing myself a little further and a little harder. I’ll work my way through the pain, realizing that it’s only a means to an end. I’ll know that some day, my commitment, dedication, and fire will get me back in the race. The easy part of the hill is always just over the top.