Devouring the Gods

I have a Summers Glow.

Gazpacho and a couple of BLT sandwich's came to mind.  We'd been out riding in the hot summer weather a bit.
Kelly, Lisa and I.
It's been a while since we've trained together, vacations, and work have changed up our routine a bit.

The redness, that shows through, the tan. The sweat, that won't stop.   Shady trails just up the bluff from the river's cooling.

Loose grip flying along the dirt path, a drifting, flying along.

We ride, training together often, with the same goals.

Today I got out early, by myself, coffee, a solid breakfast.   On to my workout.
I hear, and I have to answer, I need the structure, love it.  I don't think I'm losing anything, by doing
3 x 15 min. sweet spot intervals early on a Sunday morning.   I'd ride hard anyway.  and I really don't think you'd find a rider, that more than me, takes in everything I pass, more than me. 

I got home around 10am and started on lunch.
Fake morning star bacon, vegan mayo, lettuce, tomato, jalapenos, toasted grain bread.  A bowl of Gazpacho.

You ever get them thoughts, cravings, during a ride deep into it, a bit from it's end...

I need the structure of racing. Just a few rules.  A whistle to start, and a line to cross to stop.
That's what I need.

I think cross is like a Dagwood sandwich, Put what you want into it , that you have at hand, and that you crave. More than you need, a chore to devourer, totally wipes you out. Smile.

In july I've got tan lines, bikes that creak from miles of hard work.
Dreams.  a Calender to make. Weeks to count down.  Going to Nationals?!

and I've got those uncontrollable urges, childish, that I'll probably never out grow, cravings
maybe it's an IPA or water ice, or winning an uncontested town line sprint, or a long storied opinion that I'm going to tell you as we pedal along.

and by gosh, that makes me glow like riding on a hot, humid summer day,   keeps me happy!

Cheers Mates!  dlowe


One great day in Philadelphia

     Coltrane and this photo have been in my mind a number of years. It was fun to replicate it today.
     A great day in Harlem

      Water Ice A+ on Coltrane's Philly stoop.

There is something about the room to be yourself.
and to be able to enjoy it, even it's just a short bit of time.
To see it's flash there, know that it's really with you,
It's in you
and everyone else here is in the same boat,
looking for their sparks.

You could lay it out like the frames of a comic book.
Graphic. a good story, battles of some sorts, challenges lost, tragic, or won, heroic.

Is there enough, to feel a trust?
I know, I am in the most elite demographic there is: White, Bald, Old man, American.
How can I know?

Humbly embarrassed I'm happy to say, there is a lot for me to find.
1000's of years of stories.
As I rolled out from my porch, with Kelly, Erin, and George
rolling down to a simple, closed water ice stand, along an old tow path canal,
to a ride, I'll lead, without being at the front.
I took a couple of deep breaths.
"I'm prepared, rehearsed, confident"
and off we go again, with a "come on Anne"

Thanks for being yourself, the best, for going, for making the ride.
Cheers PHL-CX!


Landing places

Centennial Grounds is used for parking at the Mann, picnics, hidden campsite homes, dog walkers, a football team practices over by the site of the sighting of the Madonna.  The hand of the Statue of Liberty sat on the edge of Centennial Lake.  And its a good place, though flat, to get some hot laps and cx work in. 

Maybe its one of things I love about cross the most, these sorta forgotten places, that are green, beautiful personality of places.   These green and brown spots that I ride, if there were rules, and overseen, regulated and nice,  I'd guess most likely I'd be kicked out.   and I like that.
It was steaming, and hot, and I did cx work.  and I liked it.    Damn it!  Love it, the people, courses, muck, heat, beer, cold, bitterness cold.  and there are always those three pine steps to dream about standing on!

Cheers  training mates!  dlowe


Training log 3/9

I am self-employed, as a freelancer, I drive a lot, all over the place, to work.  I never remember those drives, other more than I went up 95, or out the turnpike, across the Walt Whitman.  I'm sure that along the way, I felt emotions driving; about the ass tailgating, or a to slow in the left lane car,  but all those occurrences disappear, there is no need for them taking up memory space in my head.

Saturday, I turned left onto Bryn Marw ave. and picked up speed, it is damp and still cold,
and the wonderful dunking my head into a large pail of ice water hits me.

The frozen ground of Belmont's trails is already getting slimey, and as much as I enjoy the cx feeling, of drift, and float, sinking into the ground and leaving a deep tread hole is bad for us.

I stayed in a steady state work zone, on the mountain bike slogging along.
I'm always amazed but never surprised by how I roll up to my home finishing a loop, I can come in at a target, 3hrs,  or very close, a 10 seconds, or 3 minutes off, but pretty much right on time.

There is an self satisfying gratification of keeping it moving forward, towards a challenging end.
and I train to be faster, for racing.

Parachute hill was empty, none of the malarkey drunk cheers from the CX single speed worlds crowded along it, in the way, celebrating, pushing, enjoying the unexpected heavy snow fall.

up Summit climb, not on my ss cx bike,as I rode on a water ice loop,  just getting on top of the pedals, turning, up to speed, and smiling big a bit at the young Featherman, who's working on getting his pedals to turn, the suffering youngster.

I'll turn right,  down the cobbles, up Barren Hill, past where Lafayette made a stand so Washington could get away, Past the abandoned property on Andorra road, where I'd build our house if we won the lottery.

Back onto the spraying mud of Forbidden drive,....onward I'm rolling my bike, every second an embedding memory.

Bikes are grand!