Reunited with Torch

--Spring Sprint '08

I'm almost too embarrassed to admit this but yesterday was the first time I rode Torch in 3 months. Ironman Utah really took it out of me. I've never experienced this before. I simply had no interest in Torch after Utah. Of coures, the 6-week-long period of physical chronic fatigue didn't help. Every now and then, I'd take Pandora out for a ride, hike or do a leisurely run with the dogs, and maybe pop into the ocean for a dip. But even that was becoming more and more infrequent.

I would be lying if I said everything was fine. Work is tough right now. Very tough. I'm actively searching for my first "real job" at the age of 32. I have a PhD in Cell & Molecular Biology, and I can't find a job. The economy is shit. I keep getting turned down because I'm overqualified or don't have enough "biotech" experience. It's frustrating. What I need right now is an outlet.

I wrestled with Torch for about half-an-hour, replacing the race wheels with training wheels. Undoing the aero bottle from the bars, still half-full of dirty Ironman Utah water. Slapped a spare kit in a bag under the seat. And took off.

I was a bit worried. The one thing I didn't need right now was a bad ride. A bad run a week ago had popped the last little bit of wind out of my sails. How would I feel on a 16-mile ride? I feel like I'm starting all over again. It's just been too long.

I quickly settled into the aero position. It was like putting on an old pair of your favorite jeans. Like walking by a bakery and reveling in childhood memories of your mother's chocolate-chip cookies. It was like, well...it was like riding a bike. You never forget. I remembered all those hours, all those hills, all the bottles of water, the eons of time riding next to friends in idle conversation. The long, endless Saturdays of starting out with the group at the crack of dawn and riding non-stop until mid-afternoon. The feeling that there was nothing else but that moment. Nothing else existed. The ocean stretching endlessly to the left. The bright sun in the cloudless sky, cooled by a soft, mist breeze, carried from the waves crashing on the shore. I felt strangely free and at peace. The knowledge that you had nothing else planned for the rest of the day, and the only thing that mattered was finishing that ride. Afterwards, a hot shower, lots of comfort food, and lounging in front of the t.v., gleefully weary and totally satisfied. Then, going to bed early to get ready to wake up early on Sunday and do it all over again (this time on foot).

This ride, in and of itself, was uneventful. I rode on the path I had ridden on hundreds of time before. But I relished in it. Appreciated the sleeping power in my core and glutes. Took advantage of the knowledge of every turn and bump in the road. Enjoyed the predictable westwardly wind. I loved the familiarity of the ride. Something within me stirred.