Home at last and back into the swing of things.

I went out Thursday evening after diner for a few quick laps around the lake before dark. After the week in New York at a music festival and two weeks vacationing in Florida, I was feeling that my fitness, my strength, really slipped a few notches while I was off the bike. Before I went, so many people had said it was a good thing to rest. Some said I was riding too much and too hard and needed a break, but I had never felt that way. In fact, I feared that stepping back would break me and since I've been home, it has certainly felt that way.

I did a century on the third day after we came home, and though I had improved immensely over last year's time, the ride was a struggle from the beginning and I didn't even come close to what I had expected to accomplish. After a full week back, today, I was just starting to feel like I was getting it again and thought I was even at the cusp of improving. I had a light dinner and jumped at the chance to get some fast laps around the lake in before dark.

They weren't break-neck laps, but they were a good consistent speed and gave me the chance to open it up and see how I felt. In the flats, I felt good. In the hills, I felt as good as I ever had, and maybe just a tiny bit better. After the weeks of walking around Disney and other attractions, I felt like an old race horse given the reigns to run and breathe. I felt my blood, like the fuel line and injectors of a '58 Corvette, too long garaged, flow free and strong. I was ready for action again.

I went around the lake at a pretty good clip. It was so good to be out there. Each time I came around, a young man fishing on the one lane bridge would either step aside to make room for me, come off the bridge, or signal to me that a car was coming... he was looking out for me and elected himself a partner in my mission to burn as many laps into the road as I could before dark.

There were a few runners that shared nods as we passed. I knew what they were out here chasing and they knew what I was after... a simple glance and we saw in each other's eyes that we shared a common bond. It's funny, around here, how you see the people dedicated to their sport. Runners, cyclists, walkers, I have noticed that the true athletes look you in the eye to see if you have it too, just as I look for it in their eyes. The shared nod and knowing smile simply cements the bond

It's the beginners and those who are dong it for reasons other than the love of it that seem stuck in their iPods with their eyes straight ahead, who refuse to open themselves to contact. Maybe they don't have enough confidence in what they're doing. And maybe, they divert their eyes because they know we can tell what's inside of them.

I am a staunch proponent of helmet usage. I hate seeing people on wheels without head protection and I take every opportunity to remind others. But sometimes, it's difficult to make a point without building barriers. If my kids ride without helmets, they loose their bikes, period. But what do you say to a bunch of teens who are too cool to wear them? What can you say that they'll hear? Tell them, "Go put your helmet on!", Think that will work? Chances are, it will only provoke them to curse at you, if they haven't already.

So when I passed the group of teens fooling around on the hill on skateboards, tricycles and big wheels, I really wanted to tell them to put a lid on, but I held my breath and hoped they didn't get hurt. As I came around at the end of my first lap, the kids have traveled @ 100yards. One looks at me and says, shocked, "Did you just ride around the lake in like 5 minutes?" I said, "It's the helmet. Helmets make you go faster." With any luck, the message will hit home.

The second time I passed them, they had moved maybe another 100 yards. I said, "It's more like 7-10min a lap." The one boy whoops and gives a power sign. Next lap, another 100 yrds or so and another power, which I send back. The next time is the last as it's getting dark. I get another whoop.

A fun night, I wished I had more daylight to play with.

Sunday night, my son comes home from the beach with sparkling eyes and a big grin. He says, "Bryce told me that you passed them 5 times while they were walking home the other night. He said, 'Your mom is really fast!'" Matt is clearly pleased and proud. When does this happen? A teen is proud of his mom? He comes home pleased that his friends know who she is. He's not embarrassed of the lycra-clad overweight old lady racing around like a goon on a bicycle? We better make a note of this one, it may never happen again!!

On Labor Day he decides to come out on an easy ride. I lead a recovery ride that is a perfect pace for new riders and those that are riding for pleasure and a bit of fitness, not to race. Because of the holiday, it's only me, him and a new lady who says she's 78. It's a lovely ride. After the first hill he asks if he can ride ahead on the next hill. I say, "Of course!!" on the next hill, Lilly and I are already at the top as he drags himself in and says he nearly threw up on the climb.

It was too tough a hill, but it's not fair to him, since I'm a skilled rider, Lilly has been riding for years and he's out here for his first longer than 10 mile ride. He put in 28.8 miles and had a good showing of it. I am very pleased with his performance. So he's limping a little now, he'll get over it, and maybe he'll find he really likes cycling too.