More light on the trail than there was a few weeks ago. More bugs, too. Ew.
Last week, I went on so many rides, I couldn’t even write about them all, so this is a make-up post. I spent four straight days on the road bike, seeking to remedy a lackluster training schedule the week prior, and some pedaling therapy to relieve stress from work. In those four days, I turned in over a hundred miles. That sounds like a lot, except I turned in the exact same number in a single day earlier this year.
But I was tired, anyway. What my rides lacked in distance this week, they made up in intensity. I went out on this day just to break that 100 mile mark for the week, to burn off some beer, and to explore. Most rides, I have a route in mind before I leave, and even if I alter it a little on the fly, I stick to the basic plan. It’s not that I don’t like to wander sometimes, it’s just that you can get a long way out on the road bike in a short amount of time, and getting stranded somewhere with no water isn’t very fun, especially when it’s hot.
The weather has cooled dramatically of late, and so I can stretch two bottles much further than I could in July. So I set out without a real plan, without a place I was trying to go, and just pedaled. The only things I knew I wanted were to get back before dark, and not climb too many hills. I crossed US 68 and wound around the smooth country roads, looking at the smattering of assorted arrows painted on the pavement, relics of the several bike tours and races that crisscrossed the area this year. I caught the bike path and headed south, hoping for some easy, mindless reverie, but instead being peppered by thousands of little bugs.
I stopped to help a lady on a touring bike whose brakes were dragging. It was fortuitous that I did, because in talking, I found out she had been headed the wrong direction for some time, and needed to turn and head south to reach her stop for the night. I showed her the bike shop in Yellow Springs where she could get her brakes fixed, and then went on my way.
I angled off the bike path before reaching Xenia, judging by the shadows that it was time to head back. The air had already cooled significantly, and as I turned up hill, I found myself just wanting the ride to be over. It’s not a familiar feeling to me, or at least it hasn’t been lately. I’ve been enjoying my time in the saddle in the second half of this season, after most of my big endurance rides were done. But nobody’s immune to fatigue, and it is as much a mental phenomenon as physical.
Perseverance has its rewards, and soon I was rolling along a beautiful country road, past horse farms and golden pastures, basking in the late sunshine. It was enough for me to ignore my tired legs, and the chilly air, and just focus on being out on my bicycle, pedaling for the sake of pedaling. The Blerch didn’t want me to keep going, but I did anyway, because I knew I needed it. I zigged and zagged north, guessing at the turns I needed to take to hit my goal mileage, and that I’d be back before the sun was down. It worked out, on both counts, and I coasted through the gate just as dusk settled in. A quiet ride and an unremarkable end to a week of training, but I did the work, and that’s what matters.
Pastoral serenity.