No Bad Rides

8 mph.  That’s what my GPS displayed as I attempted to descend one of my favorite hills this morning.  Yes, descend.  At 8 mph.  In the small ‘ring, and pedaling with all my might.  To say that I was battling a fierce headwind would be a colossal understatement.

I seriously considered turning around and going back home, but as I was almost half-way to work, I figured that the worst was over.  Wrong.  The aforementioned headwind was now blowing sideways, and I struggled to remain (1) upright, and (2) on the road.  I must have looked quite odd to the passing cars as I leaned into the wind at what felt like a 45-degree angle.

About three miles from work, the wind began to die down.  There were a few gusts, but nothing like the gales that had plagued me for the previous nine miles.  Gone was my white knuckle grip, and I was able to use the big chainring again.  I wheelied over fallen branches, and maneuvered my way around a huge SUV that blocked the bike lane.

Reaching down, I pressed the STOP button on my GPS.  1:03.  A little slower than usual, but not terribly so.  One hot shower later, I sat at my desk, wondering what the ride home would bring.



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