Remember when...

An image for you...

Pooh drops in on Rabbit around lunch time. Rabbit, being polite to a fault, invites Pooh to lunch and Pooh being hungry to a fault, eats and eats until each of Rabbit's pots is emptied of honey. A sitcky, full and bloated Pooh leaves through the door he came in. Only, he gets stuck and hopelessly lodged. Nothing can budge him. So Pooh is stuck half in and half out of Rabbit's house for what seems an eternity until he loses weight. Poor Rabbit has to deal with the constant companionship of the south end of Pooh in his living room.

One day, when he is resolved that Pooh will never be unstuck, he leans against Pooh's rear and it moves.
"He Booged, he big, he bugged, He BUDGED!!" springs Rabbit, joyously.

That's the mental picture I got when my scale registered 2lbs less. After three months, could I have tapped into my metabolic wiring? I don't know, but gosh, it would only be fair!


This week was a bit of a roller coaster after I completed the Century. Though I was thrilled that I went so far, the backlash was, I felt like I exceeded my goal a month ahead of schedule. It was actually a bit of a let down. Having met the high mark, I felt that you might loose interest in what I was trying to do and it would be just me alone on the bike again.

Do you know that I take you on each ride with me? When I'm alone and things get tough, I hear your words of encouragement and support. When something funny hapens, I think of you laughing like you tell me you do when you read of the adventure. I think of just how I'm going to say it to you. When I'm having trouble, I think of your personal struggles and triumphs that you've shared with me and it all gives me fuel to go on. The idea of having you lose interest in our journey is scary.

You see, I go out each Saturday to ride with a bunch of guys who are way, way beyond my reach(Boy, I've heard that before!). I do a bunch of calculations on my speed and timing to judge where I'll meet up with them. I try to use it to my advantage to get me in with the pack at my strongest, for the longest I can. I'm hoping to work my way up to them, but feel I may have to die and be reborn a skinny guy to do it. At times, I'm tempted by Larry's offer for a Harley Davidson hybrid to blow 'em away in style;-) (Not really, but he makes me smile anyway.) It is each of you who are in my pack each time I go out. You're the ones who are with me on each turn, up each hill and flying down the other side, and I need you.

So, this week I was suprisingly unscathed from last week's ride. On Monday, my legs were slightly sore in one area and on Tuesday my forearms were tight and sore and my fingers were feeling it from the shifting and gripping but I didn't even need Advil(and no numbness, Yea!). I really expected to pay for it a bunch more but since I didn't, I think I probably just didn't work hard enough! :-) (And Jay, since you asked, suffice it to say that the bike shorts definitely have to go. I'm searching for kinder ones.)

And, that brings me back to my goal for September, to do it faster and better than before. Okay, so the goal hasn't changed.

Now, the answer to the burning question from two weeks ago, drum roll please... Chew me up and spit me out!

Yep, they certainly did. One guy said "How ya' do'in" as we waited at the top of the hill for the pack(they're getting friendlier about it). They never clipped out, never stopped. Someone said, "Ready, Let's go!" I rode downhill in the rear but they were already a flash, and I roared within 2 lengths of them. Then the two guys in the rear glanced back and saw me.

There was a quick spark. (Was it fear in their eyes or the sun on their glasses?) Then, like gazelles bounding from the clench of a racing lion, they stood in their pedals and stepped up the pace of the whole pack.

This time, Lion goes home hungry.
But there will be a next time....