This could be a post regarding the recent fantasy-tale success of the ‘Stros, where things like “wookie grand-slams” and “We got some hitters, not Cardinal spitters” would be heard from the belfrys of some-oddly-named stadium. The story of the wookies, in concert with the older Jedis, overcoming the Dark Side of the Force. But, sadly, and much to the happiness of Star Wars fan-boys… it’s not.
It’s the story of my looking my legs some where off TX 146 Sat AM.  Some many posts back, I started a cycling regimen (read: i do it when I feel guilty about being 34 and out of shape). A Buddy of mine (you figure out why it’s capitalized, eh) called this past week and guilted me into a bike ride “down south”. I doned my “Team CSC” cycling jersey, black and red bike shorts, my Team CSC summer gloves and my uber-kewl gray helmet… and RODE, much to the shock of my wife.
“You’re riding WHERE?!?”
“To the Kemah bridge and back.”
“Why?!?!”
“It’s a training ride, about 20 miles.”
“Are you sure you can do that?”
“There’s only one way to find out. Have the phone nearby. And the resuscitator.”
Welllll, my training DID help. But my stamina just isn’t there.. yet. After about an hour of fighting the relentless 15-20 mph wind on Space Center and NASA RD 1, we went up a bridge. Yeah, the tall friggin bridge in Kemah. While I did OK, that was about it. 15-20 deg. incline, and I actually got to the top, but didn’t go over. I wasn’t willing to do all that again. I just turned around on top, hit 36 mph on the way down, and came back down Red Bluff, to Fairmont, then the wind AGAIN on Space Center. Near Red Bluff and Fairmont, my legs quit. I figure all in all, that was about 1:35 into the run, so I got a good gauge on my level. I used the lactic acid flushing techniques (little resistance, fast motion) on the first part out with the wind and it’s probably the reason my legs weren’t jelly at the end. I just couldn’t pedal hard at all.
So, I’m waiting for the SORENESS to go away, and then it’s back on the trainer, probably pushing even more.
But, my first 20-miler? Â Check.
Holding my own against a better rider? Check.
Knowing I can do it? Double check.