Oh hey embro, knickers, taking forever to get ready for a ride, numb digits, five-hour trainer sessions, shoecovers, frightened baristas, post-ride hot buttered rum, and staring at the crude “HTFU” on my toptube like it’s an apparition of the Virgin Mary as snow batters my insufficiently swaddled face in the midst of a Zone 1 slog. Here’s to hoping I don’t have to get to know you so intimately well as during last winter’s Bataan Death March into JUNE, you frigid annual four-to-seven month bike racer menstrual cycle.
Today was my last in shorts for 2011, at least anywhere 50 miles north of the Utah/Arizona line. Coincidentally, it was the first time I’ve hit snow during the 2012 training schedule. I’d be a overjoyed to say it’s the first time I’ve seen snow in awhile, but that’s a complete lie, thanks to the previously alluded-to epic winter we experienced in Utah last year.
I’m thinking a thermos cage might be in order. And a handle of Bulleit.