The Morning Ride
Other than one overpass, the ride is dead flat. But on the way back into the city, the overpass is the finish line to a stage win at the TdF. On the approach, the attack begins, the train of pain. This has always been a challenge, but with the recent addition of some very strong riders to our group, the intensity of the sprint has risen to retarded levels. My goal is just to keep up, to desperately hold on to a wheel until we make the overpass. By then my legs are dead like tree trunks and I am near the point of vomiting. It is my favourite part of the ride.
To start the day this way, and see the sunrise on my bike on our way back to the city is magic. If only summer lasted forever.