My reasons for not riding were generally good. With a new baby in the house, and not knowing whether I'd need to come home quickly for some reason, I drove, because I could get home faster. With a garage stall full of basement fillings (mostly furniture and boxes of stuff), it was difficult to dig my bike out. And before long, I was in the habit of driving.
So it came as no surprise that my legs weren't in any kind of shape for riding. Yesterday's rides to and from work were 17:07 and 15:10--it's a four-mile ride. I had a headwind going in, and a crosswind coming home. Because of terrain and not worrying about sweating, I generally ride faster coming home. But here, for comparison purposes, are a couple of ride log entries from last summer:
| To/From | Time | Comments entered at the time |
|---|---|---|
| To | 16:25 | Headwind; legs felt dead |
| To | 15:12 | Taking it easy |
| From | 14:42 | Hot, humid, dead legs |
| From | 14:29 | Slight headwind |
It looks like I have some riding to do before my legs get back to where they were last summer. But that's okay. I like riding. That's why I pulled my bike out on a 24 degree (F) morning and rode off into a headwind. In between thoughts of "really, that's all you've got?", "I seem to remember being faster", and "it's probably just that your technique has gotten sloppy, yeah, that's it", was a feeling of happiness and contentment at being back on my bike, one of my favorite places to be.
