I am incredibly amused.
Seasonal vivification is breathing down my neck like an undercaffeinated art director.
The weekend was one of consistent 60F highs in Small Lake City - possibly the first of 2012. Another training criterium on Saturday followed up with some lovely crushing with the fine gents from Plan7 Coaching, Canyon Bicycles, SimplyMac Racing, and my Professional Vacuum Salesman roomie. A nice tempo-pace team time trial finish up Emigration Canyon with Chase and a couple of the SM boys left us with a respectable 24:something mark.
Sunday’s levy brought forth the throttle-fluttering in preparation for SoCal’s interminable announcement to North America that bike racing season is ON: The San Dimas Stage Race. A brief dawdle around town saw my small contingent of coworkers and compatriots once again at the mouth of Emigration.
With a lid on the KJ burn and an eye towards next week’s baptism by fire, I ended up running into a former neighbor on the road. Heath knew me when I was first wrestling with life’s direction as a nomadic and aimless 22 year-old. We parted ways when I was supposedly running away (back) to California to launch my journey into the French Foreign Legion (riding a ‘99 Klein Quantum Pro), and him still dating his future wife. Oh, how things change in a couple years. Now, Heath’s wife is expecting, and I’m pedaling my bike for a living. Perspective.
A finish in SLC’s resplendent 15th & 15th neighborhood with an apres-ride sandwich and Galleti gorge on the patio at Caputo’s; and a visit to the newest addition to the valley’s bourgeoning acceptance of cycling as a lifestyle left me basking in sun-baked bliss.
Life is good.