|
Sixty or so miles over the last few days has, thus far, been high volume for me this year.
On the last two rides there have been 10 timed segments. All of them were well off my pace. But that could be the theme of the year. Well off my pace. Maybe the next ride should be a recovery ride.
One of our friends and former students came back to town:
Dominick and I had lunch at the new pizza joint. We spent the afternoon catching up and telling tales out of … well … school. He’s been gone for a year, studying out west and doing great things in the universe.
I beat him, once again, at foosball in a not too demanding best-of-seven series. The last three series have gone to, well, me.
Not that I’d remember something that happened a year ago:
Today I won four games to two.
For me, the game of foosball may never be the same again. pic.twitter.com/Lx51mkT3lB
— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith) July 20, 2018
Goaaal! The streak…is…ovah!
After eight days of close calls and futility on the foosball table, I've finally beaten @Domino_Jean again. pic.twitter.com/st4sCG22eh
— Kenny Smith (@kennysmith) July 17, 2018
I have been bested after 8 days of foosball stardom and non-stop victory by @kennysmith. I will now retreat for a year-long hiatus to train and pray for my eventual return to glory.
— Dominick Jean (@Domino_Jean) July 17, 2018
Speaking of remembering, if you’ll recall last Friday I mentioned a flower that’s flowering in the backyard. It has now reached its potential and it’s lovely:
One day I might too!
This month’s fill-up:
That’s a pretty decent price, after the grocery store points discount. And filling up every month or so is a lot better than doing it every Monday, or even more frequently, like the bad old days.
Naturally, after buying a tank full of gas, you go out for a short, 20-mile bike ride. It was 10 miles out and come back. I jumped out for a small lead at a stop sign and worked as hard as I could on the generally uphill progression. I was all proud, until I got to the appointed turnaround and The Yankee was just 20 yards behind me.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
“How’s your ride?” I asked.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
“Good, slow, but fine,” she said.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I’d been working so hard. This was my first ride of the year which felt good — I’ve been nursing some aches and pains. The weather was delightfully mild and it was the best stretch of riding so far of the year. Slow, she says, because she’s so ridiculously strong.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
So we head back. I take the lead. There’s a train track running parallel to this country road we’re on. I can hear a train blasting its horn announcing itself at intersections to my right. Briefly, just in front of us and then behind us. If I hurry, I figured, I can safely beat it. I knew the intersection with the tracks, of course. It’s at a good clearing and it has great lights. No gates, but you can see off to the side enough to know whether you should jump the tracks or stop. I had an ear and eye off to the right and my legs and lungs were doing everything else. I beat the train. After the tracks, there’s a demanding little hill. One of those that you think shouldn’t hurt, but it can really do some damage. It can be an emotional ascent. I’ve seen it happen. Anyway, I topped that climb and The Yankee dropped me, hard and convincingly.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
So that explains my view the rest of the way back:
After, she said she was just read to be home. So clearly I have to ride better.
Come, and marvel at the beauty. Stay, and contemplate the freshness. Sit, and consider what those flowers could mean to the future. And, after you’ve lingered long enough, think about what else they could mean.
What do you think? Yes or no?
I guess signs sometimes are aspirational, too.
