I didn’t plan on riding today. The weather called for rain this afternoon. The air was muggy and humid. The shy was cloudy and dark. The tree leaves had achieved a cupping stance. The deer and squirrels were running wildly about. On top of all this, I was achy and tired from the many nights before, cycling in the house. It had been more than nineteen hours since my last ride. The memory of chamois cream baking against the pressure of my saddle, fresh in my mind. My back a stiff. My legs were tight. There was no reason to get out of bed and tackled the harsh asphalt and concrete of the open road.
I was comfortable in bed. The cool breeze from the ceiling fan brushed across my face. The soft mattress supported my shoulders. The fluffy pillows and their fresh wash scent gave me something to hold and squeeze. I wasn’t hungry. I rushed. I wasn’t being pushed. All that I needed to get done, by my estimation I had already completed. I was done before the day had properly started. The more I searched the harder it was to find a reason to get up and get on the bike.
I don’t have to get up, I told myself. There was no need to get up early. The warm humid days, where I would get up before sunrise and be home before the first car was beginning their commute were coming to an end. The days where the only time to ride the bike was before the day began or in the house under the cover of a fan and air conditioning, had passed. The time of rushing to get to my start point, barely reaching a checkpoint or fighting to make it before the night had fallen were over. I didn’t have to rush anymore. I didn’t have to hurry to get my miles in. After all the months this year, of spinning on the trainer, riding up the hills, fighting my way over the horizon or dodging trains and traffic alike. After all this time, I had finally gained enough strength to maintain my fitness. I finally had the knowledge to know that I could ride the trainer and not have to worry that I was cheating myself. I could spin for up to fourty one minutes without stopping on the trainer. I was finally strong enough to pedal and allow my mind to be occupied by a television show, a movie, a documentary or a series of mind numbing internet videos. The need to get to this point was satisfied.
The need for the rides to be better remained. In the past I had learned that better has several meanings. It can mean that you are stronger, faster, with a higher endurance. It could mean that your have thicker tires, a lighter frame, stronger brakes, higher pressure in your tires, a smoother shifting groupset, or snug fitting shoes. Better on the bike could mean anything. What was missing was the number one thing that I already had, the fitness. When I started this journey, I started with my naked eyes. I would get on the bike and pedal using only my near sighted eyes to see what was infront of my. It didn’t matter what a sign said or what license plate came within an inch of my body. If I needed to read, something, the location and landmarks would be more than enough to supplement what was already known. It was not until I started flying downhill at upwards of thirty miles per hour that I noticed a need to have my trusty glasses. The wind may identifying how close a driver was coming up behind me impossible. The small objects and road imperfections made seeing, much more of a priority. It is only so many times that one can hit the same pothole, feel the jolt and fear of going over the handle bars, before something needs to change.
It was about this time that I discovered that protective glasses can be purchased with prescription inserts. Now I could ride the bike at all kinds of blinding speeds and have pin perfect vision at the same time. I could see the small objects on the road and I could read the license plates of the passing cars. It was like riding a new route that I had already known. This added a new fascination with the bike as well as a new phobia. The lenses were great. They allowed me to see and read on the bike. The mystery of the foggy out of focus elements on the bike were now crystal clear. It was the frames that were purchased with the sunglasses. They were as study as wet toilet paper. A strong sneeze could cause them to break. When protected by the sunglasses, they were strong enough. Anything is strong when it is protected. On their own, they felt and were flimsy and weak. My biggest fear was that I would be in a crash an have to ride home without them, or that they would end up on the couch when I chose to sit down. Ultimately, neither event happened.
What did happen is that when my prescription changed, I would have to get lenses for my glasses as well as my inserts. This would mean that I would have to trust that the frames would survive the removal and new installation. It was a miracle that they had survived this long. It was the idea of the new prescription that caused me to worry. This led me to seek out a new solution.
What if I could have my sunglasses (protective glasses) over my prescription glasses. The idea was interesting. Then I remembered seeing someone with this very setup on one of my group rides. Instead of the sunglasses being affixed to my head, they had a helmet that had the sunglasses affixed with magnets. I searched on amazon and found the helmet and protective eye ware combination. When it arrived, I assembled the package and immediately took it out on the open road. I could have waited for a sunnier day. I could have waited for a dryer day. I could have waited for all the elements of the ride to be perfect. I had never waited before, so why would I wait now? The glasses fit (barely) over my glasses. The world was a crisp and clear as an HD movie in 4k. I could read not only the signs and license plates, but I could now read the data on my GPS computer that wasn’t in bold or high contrast font. The ride was fast clear, cool and smooth. Had the day allowed for more time, I would have ridden further, faster, longer and harder. Alas the sun was racing to the horizon as I raced to get home.
I didn’t intend on riding my bike outside today. By all accounts, I was perfectly content to ride the bike on the trainer. I could use the time to catch up on the news, politics, movies and or television. I could have ridden my bike indoors today. I could have, but Im glad I didn’t