Here's the thing -- sometimes, when I'm riding up a hill, it does take me awhile, and I'm huffing & puffing my way up the hill (mind you, they're not BIG hills....they are long & rolling though)... There are lots of cyclists out where we ride, and of course, they constantly pass me.


Oh boy, have you ever named my tune!

So a month ago I finally got around to reading Heft on Wheels by Mike Magnuson. And on page 46 and 47, he also names my tune. I take encouragement from this. It makes me smile:

"When the attacks begin - meaning that someone blasts off the front of the pack - we are climbing into these hills...And at the back of this long string is where I'll be: 255 pounds of sweat and hard breathing and guts churning with Gatorade and PowerGel and the Taco Bell that I know I shouldn't have eaten for lunch. The farther into the long climbs, the farther I drop back, till I'm as much as 600 yards behind everybody and all alone, with only the roadside flowers and dogwood trees to see the effort I'm putting forth."

"But the diamond in every hill's lining is that if you go up, you'll eventually go down and....I am, like Frosty the Snowman, the greatest belly-whomper in the world. The little guys relax on the long descents, to recover and gather their strength for another climb, and this, of course, is the proper way to cycle - ride hard, recover, ride hard, recover - but the long descents are my only chance to catch up, so I click into the biggest gear I can crank and I let it rip..."

"So if I'm out there riding with you, and you think you're a bad@@@ cyclist, a hammer, a machine, and you're feeling all smug about yourself because you're a few hundred yards ahead of me on that long, long hill, let me tell you buddy, if I can see you on the road ahead of me, if I'm anywhere close to you, I'm really kicking your @@@".

It's not zen, but it works. If you want zen, try this the next time you are passed:

"You're harshin my mellow, man"