Survival of the Wittest
Staying on the bike this time of year is a bit like that, except you just get tired of the gear. You get so tired of pulling, zipping, tucking, strapping, zipping, adjusting. And you get tired of the cognitive process part of it all as well. What's the temp now compared to what it'll be two hours from now? Is there a chance of rain? What's the wind? How much daylight? So it's like with eating ribs. It's not that you don't want to ride, you just don't want to have to fuck with so much shit. You just wanna go fer Chrissakes.
So this time of year, you find yourself either over- or under-dressed about half the time. And just when you're sure you've thought of everything and you've got it about right, you reach down and there's no water bottle. But if you had a water bottle, you'd get exactly halfway around your loop and sure as hell that's the time you'd remember that your seat pack is on the other bike.
All of these things have happened to me at least once in the past few weeks--even the getting tired of eating ribs part. I even forgot my license on the way to a race in Lawrence. Luckily the registration people were hooked up online and they whisked me right through. And that's the way things should be. For bike racers, March and April should be the forgetful months. We should get a pass on remembering anything during these months, cause we're just worn out from having to remember so much shit during the winter.
During March and April, we should get a pass on birthdays, anniversaries, appointments and staff meetings. Our minds are on detail overload. We have to rebuild our bikes. For months we've been remembering all the gear and all the stuff to avoid colds and flu and stress. In March and April we need to make an effort to forget more and remember less. It's self preservation kicking in--survival of the wittest.
This way, you'd forget how much certain people have their little irritations. You'd forget that the dude already told you that story five times and you'd appreciate his fresh approach to it this go-round. You might actually ask Josh to do his billy goat imitation or put you down just for old time's sake. You'd see Tracy and yell, "Haaaaay." You might feel compelled to buy Zoom a tank of gas even though you didn't ride with him. You might just keep on talking to Fish even when he got that fifty yard stare about halfway through your second sentence. You could actually laugh when Luke shows up for a ride and going on and on about how tired he is and then immediately dropping the hammer. You wouldn't be a bit bothered that Beefcakes looks so much better than you do on the bike--even before he clips in. You'd be glad that Andy doesn't talk on the bike. It would be no biggie that Pam does not take a pull until you hit the biggest hill at which point it's like she's pulling your lungs out of your nostrils. You'd listen closely to one of Nolan's diatribes, you'd let Luke Jr. con you out of your last pack of GU, and you'd make Jan say something.
See? Here in BOCOMO we really do have a lot to be forgetful for. But what the hell, it's springtime and I ain't forgettin' that. Later.