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Release

Wednesday, August 10th, 2011

I can tell when I’m under pressure. My face breaks out like I’m back in high school. If you want an idea of how my life has been going lately, just take a look at my complexion.

Yesterday I had an opportunity to find some relief for an hour or so. I had forgotten the therapeutic properties of the bicycle. Here is to rolling your troubles away.

My training has taken a nose dive. I haven’t been wanting to admit it — hence the lack of posts over the last several days. Until last night, the last time I rode my bike was the time trial on Thursday.

I’m in one of those situations in my life where everything is starting to pile up behind the dam and I don’t have enough fingers to plug the holes that are beginning to form. Some setbacks have put pressure on my wallet. I’m looking at a number of new projects at work that are going to require a lot of time and effort to accomplish. I have a couple of speaking engagements coming up that I’m having to prepare for. Oh yeah, there is the family as well.

Oh, and what about that heat? It is really affecting me this year. Maybe it is just that the heat compounds all the other things. All I know is it just seems to sap the strength right out of me — and that is before I even get on the bike.

Well, getting off work, I was unable to make it in time out to Donaldson Center for the Tuesday Night World Championships.  I rolled my bicycle out on my driveway and just started pedaling. I was supposed to go do repeats on Piney Mountain. I turned my wheel and went the opposite direction.

No warm-up. I just started pedaling the way I used to when I first started riding. It felt good.

Sure, I was riding at too low of a cadence. I wasn’t paying attention to the computer. I was going too hard too soon.

It is just that there was something welling up inside of me that coursed down to my legs and said for me to “Go!” Maybe it was just that I was wanting to ride away from the pressures behind me. I was like a  kid who starts running from those who tease him. He doesn’t know where he is running. He just runs.

Through the parks and onto the Swamp Rabbit trail. Yes, forgive me, but I was going a little faster than I normally do on the trail — on this Tuesday night, there were large sections with no other people around.

Nearing Furman, I began to see Paris Mountain rising beyond the trees. Like in the early days, it was calling me. I knew what I was going to do.

I turned off of the trail and made my way to the base of Altamont Road. There was going to be some pain involved in this, but I was seeking it. It would focus my mind to narrow down to just thinking about making that next few yards in front of me. Everything else would disappear. The pain of my legs would distract from all the thoughts swirling around in my head.

Halfway up the road I glanced at the computer. I was feeling good and had made a respectable time (for me) to this point. 5 minutes and 30 seconds to cover the first mile. If only I could duplicate that for the last mile.

It wasn’t to be and that was alright. I wasn’t trying to land a personal best. I was just seeking a release.

Sure enough, about three thirds up the effort I started to wane. “Don’t stop,” I ordered myself. “Keep pushing.” I still wasn’t looking at the computer. This was all about what I was feeling.

I finished by standing and fighting up The Wall to the line. Looking back at the data, I see my heart rate heading toward 200 bpm. Right when I thought I was going to drop, I passed the line.

It took me about 7 minutes to finish that last half for a time of 12:38, but that was okay. As I took on oxygen and started the sweeping descent off of the mountain, I was relaxed. The pedaling and pain was over. Now I got to enjoy letting the bike run around the curves. There was joy following the pain.

Release.

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Just ride your bike

Thursday, July 21st, 2011

Sometimes I can get a little melodramatic. I think it is something that comes with a good imagination. It can actually be helpful when it comes to writing, but isn’t always best for living in reality.

I imagine myself being an above average racer. It isn’t that I think I’ll be up there challenging for a bunch of wins. However, I do visualize myself being a mover in breaks and a consistent top-ten finisher.

More than that, it has been my desire to “fit in” — be accepted as a player in the peloton. It really isn’t that hard to look the part. Finding my way onto the POA Cycling Team certainly didn’t detract from the perception.

The reality has been something different. After a breakout year in 2010 when it looked like I could be a force to be reckoned with, everything changed. I found myself being a non-factor in most races. I was unable to do anything significant to help advance my team. There were times when I even made mistakes that hurt my team. As for personal success, that has been quite a ways in the past.

On top of that, in 2009 I had gotten a reputation for not being able to keep my wheels on the ground. Most of that was undeserved since I was typically a victim. However, my horrendous crash in 2010 seemed to cement it.

This year I was getting quite proud of myself. I had not crashed and have been able with bike handling to avoid a number of mishaps around me. While I haven’t had the finishes that I hoped for, I at least have avoided finishing on the ground! Maybe with a clean season, I could put the reputation behind me.

Then Saturday happened. Do you know how embarrassing it is to just fall over on your bike about three feet from the start line? That, my friend, is what you call a “rookie mistake.” It was a definite punch to my ego and my melodramatic tendencies kicked in.

I slunk back to my car that Saturday hoping that I wouldn’t see any of my team mates. I told myself that the next time I showed up for a race – whenever that might be – I would participate in my Low Cadence kit instead of the POA colors. It would be my way of doing penance for bringing disrepute on the team.

It was then it hit me that I definitely was not having fun racing anymore. The reason why was because I was racing for the expectations of my imagination rather than grabbing a hold of the moment and enjoying it. Bottom line is that I have been making my success or failure WAY too important for a weekend warrior.

I’ve determined that I am going out tonight with a different mindset.  I’m not going to go there pushing myself to live up to my imagined perception of myself. My goal is to go out there and let the race come to me. I’m not going to ride to avoid mistakes. I’m going to ride to participate.

If that approach lives up to expectations, then great. If it doesn’t, then – hey – I am who I am. Somehow, I have the funny feeling that if I ride that way, I’ll have greater success than I would otherwise.

Perceptions be hanged. Just ride your bike.

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Love or Obligation

Tuesday, July 5th, 2011

Last week I watched the page views for the blog tick pass 200,000. It gave me a moment to pause and go back to the beginning — back before LowCadence.com. It also caused me to take a time-out and reassess where I am today.

Since 2005, I have posted to either StackOfStuff.net, GreenvilleOnline.com, or LowCadence.com over 2000 times. Combined, the page views have exceeded 400,000. To be honest, I’m surprised that I have managed to continue for so long with only small breaks along the way.

That pretty much describes my relationship with the bicycle over that time as well. Actually, I would never have thought I would be doing the things I have done back on that day my wife encouraged me to get back on my mountain bike. It has been a time of love, hate, sweat, triumph, failure, elation, suffering, pain, confidence, questioning… and any other number of descriptors from life. Indeed, it is as though the bicycle gives you an opportunity to magnify both the weaknesses and strengths of “normal” life.

Something has changed inside me though. I look at my “numbers’ and they are as good or better than  ever. According to my coach I “have what it takes.” He follows that up by saying, “Now it is time to use it.” My problem is I don’t seem to have the same drive to “use it” as I once did.

Take last Thursday for instance. My numbers said I should have been right in the mix. However, I struggled mentally to find my place. That was compounded by watching my teammate go down right in front of me and then narrowly missing another crash.

I don’t ride with fear. It is amazing how you can ride through a near crash – or even crash – and then get right back at it. No, it is more of a calculated assessment.

I lined up for the 1-2-3 race right after the Masters race. My coach told me to do so. As I waited for the official to call the start, I thought ahead to the next 45 minutes.  Here were some fresh young guns including at least one continental pro. I was about to set myself up for suffering and potential pain — for what?

We started off and the fire never came to my belly. Ten minutes in and I could see my family sitting up on the top of a hill watching me race. Just sitting there watching me hanging out in the final third of the field.

We came around the final two sweeping turns of the course and I wound it up. Let’s see how long I could stay off the front and then call it a day. I quickly moved up toward the front and as I moved into the top 10 I could see a rider starting to attack on the opposite side of the field. We both broke through onto the front at the same time just as we passed the start line.

As we were doing so, Blair was yelling, “Prime on this lap! Prime on this lap!” Great. That was just what I needed about the time I was trying an attack. Still, I kept the hammer down.

The two of us soon caught two other riders who had attacked right off the bat. I didn’t slow and went right around them. As I passed, I could see they were reacting to get on our wheels.

About halfway, we started the little climb back onto the main track and I noticed a wheel coming up near me. As we crested, that wheel was joined by others. I had been caught. By the time we reached the chicane, the field was all together. Coming out of the turns, I have to admit, I glanced up to see my family and wanted to go home.

Some will say I should never pull out of a race – unless pulled off the course by the officials. Some will say that I just don’t have the competitor’s spirit. Some might say that I gave up too easily. Maybe all of that is true.

The question I have to ask myself at that point is does it really matter what “some” say? Paul Sherwen commented recently during the Tour coverage that the reason the professionals race their bikes is because they love it. Only love is what makes them go through the suffering.

Do I love the bike? I guess because I pause to answer the question that probably means I don’t. Perhaps right now I am more “in like” than “in love.” Or maybe it is all the structure of training and racing that has turned love into obligation.

I actually enjoy training. My coach tells me I am a hard worker. I like being given a goal and trying to meet it.

I love getting on my bike and exploring new roads. I love those times when I am riding the bike and don’t think about it. My mind is solving some problem or dreaming of a new idea while my legs automatically move me along.

I enjoy racing — when given freedom to try and fail. The thing that weighs most on my mind is not pulling my weight for the team or getting in the way. It was much easier when I was racing alone. I knew what to do and if I failed, I didn’t let anyone down but myself.

Still, one thing I have learned over the last six years: things change. Like a batter in a slump, sometimes you just have to keep swinging until you come out of it. Right now, I’m must looking for that one good hit.

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My bicycle: the time machine

Thursday, June 30th, 2011

Okay, I haven’t posted in awhile. It isn’t because I’ve taken a break from riding. It has simply been because I was enjoying a break from writing.

I spent a week ago with my parents near the small town of Bladenboro, NC. Actually, the homestead is almost exactly between the aforementioned town and Dublin, NC. Highway 410 runs between the two with long stretches of straight asphalt. Off of this road are many more rural roads winding through swamps, fields, and forests.

That is where I spent a good amount of time on the bike. I’ll tell you, it was pretty great! Other than the brief amounts of time I had to spend on Hwy.410, the traffic was nearly non-existent. Never had very windy days and the roads are just as flat as can be. Perfect conditions for some steady-state training.

It was funny to see the reaction I got out of folks. Riding through town I was enough of an oddity to cause people to stop and follow me with their gaze. Most times on the road as a car would come toward me I would get the obligatory hand wave from the steering wheel. Only rarely did I get a horn — and that was always a friendly (though misguided) “I’m coming up behind you” beep.

The most fun I had were those days where my training called for me ride for a couple of hours at around 200 watts for the duration. All I had to do was point the bike in the right direction, start spinning my legs at a consistent cadence, and let ‘er roll! This also meant that I could do some exploring.

So, even though I had spent 18 years of my life roaming around this area, I had never been to the town of Evergreen, NC. I had seen the signs for it on other rides. This time I made the turn off of Hwy. 410 onto Hwy. 242 and set the town as my goal.

Off I rode through flat corn fields. Then I wound my way downward to a black water creek that ran through swamp land on either side of the road. Back up to the flats and some more corn and soybean fields later, I arrived at the small hamlet of Evergreen.

The town was made up of a four-way stop sign with a convenience store on one corner. Tall water oaks over sandy soil stood in front of the few homes. One road was called “Evergreen School Road” and I assumed the buildings I saw between some trees was said school. It appeared that the school was the primary reason for the town’s existence — that and the traditional structure of the Evergreen Baptist Church.

As I passed through the town I made my way through yet another swamp. The black water lay still beneath the moss laden trees. It was as though I was riding back into time. Then I passed through a canopy of trees to find a new scene.

In front of me were large earth moving machines and a towering bridge that looked as though it would soon be a highway overpass. I had stumbled upon Highway 74. Traffic was heavy and the speeds of the cars passing were a stark contrast to the sleepy existence from which I had just emerged.

I turned to look behind me. All I could see was a tree line with a tunnel made of leaves and pine needles. Looking back toward the construction, I saw a man standing atop the huge mound of dirt created to form an on/off ramp. I could tell he was studying me. What was going through his mind? I’m sure he was wondering what I was doing there.

It was all pretty symbolic to me. The contrast of the seeming simplistic rural existence of my childhood and the bustling, high-speed world of my current life. Still, I had a few more days to enjoy the roads that followed paths first formed in the late 1600s – with not too much changing since then.

I turned around and rode back into the trees.

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Just keep swimming

Wednesday, June 15th, 2011

The swamping feeling is back. On the tides of time the flotsam and jetsam of tasks and engagements wash up against me threatening to push me under the waves. It isn’t that every moment is a crowded patch of the sea. Sometimes I’m swimming smoothly along until I look ahead and see a conjunction of currents through which I know I must pass and it looks nearly impassible.

Okay, so it's not that bad!

The stupid thing is that much of  my issues revolve around the actually unimportant topic of my bicycle. It isn’t that the act of riding my bike is causing stress. It is the act of finding an opportunity to get on it that is playing a part in my angst.

Work is going relatively smoothly. I am in that stage where I am working toward future events and doing some research into board management styles. There really isn’t much stress going on from 8 AM to 5 PM — that is until I start thinking about what happens after I leave.

Tonight I speak to some kids at a midweek meeting at my church. Tomorrow evening I am supposed to take my son to baseball practice. Friday evening he has a game — and I potentially have a work conflict with that. Saturday there is more baseball and time to head out of town to visit my parents for a week when we will celebrate their 50th anniversary.

There are other things going on that don’t need to find their ways into a blog about cycling. Suffice to say they can’t be solved simply by rearranging a schedule. Really, they are things that can only be rectified with patience and faith. However, they weigh on my heart and mind and color my views of most everything else.

So, I look at TrainingPeaks and see that my coach has assigned a two hour steady state tempo ride. When am I going to do that? For that matter, when am I going to get on the bike any evening this week?

“What’s the big deal?” you ask. Let me try to explain. Training is like putting water into a bucket with tiny holes in it. There is a certain rate at which you can add water to the bucket and you can actually overflow the container. That is when you peak and you find your form. However, it can be discouraging when you work hard to bring the cups of water to the bucket and just as you reach the brim you trip. The water spills on the ground instead of into your bucket. By the time you get to the water source, refill your cup, and return to the bucket  you find the water level has lowered.

This season has seemed to be filled with these exercises in frustration. I have yet to see the bucket overflow. I’m really starting to wonder if it ever will again.

The good news is that I am slowly nearing the brim. I guess it is a kind of two steps forward one step back kind of season. I’ve watched my CTL slowly inch its way upward.

Another wonderful piece of news is that the changes I made to my bicycle have really made a difference in my hip pain. It is not gone, but is diminishing with each day. Now there is merely a dull reminder of the pain that used to be ever present.

Perhaps that is really the most frustrating thing of all. In many ways, things are coming together. I can see through the debris ahead to clear waters beyond. I’m so close and I’m swimming as hard as I can, but as each stroke produces a cavitation the odds and ends are being sucked closer and closer.

I guess I just need to remember the advice of Dory in Finding Nemo, “Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming!”

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Could seat angle be cause of my pain?

Friday, June 10th, 2011

Periodically I keep bringing up the issues I am having with my hip. I’ve tried lots of things — rest, stretching, foam roller, and more. However, while these things have helped, it seems that the pain is simply being managed. Finally, I wondered if the problem might be my bike.

When I got my Felt AR, I had it set up with the numbers measured from the Giant TCR Advanced. The measurements matched up perfectly. So, I assumed that my body was positioned identically.

Recently, I had the Felt converted to a TT bike. While it was rigged that way, I was riding my Giant more regularly. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something felt different. I also found that my hip was — while still painful — not hurting as much.

When I got my Felt back in its road race configuration, I decided to see about getting a fit. If the bike was set up correctly then I would at least be able to rule that out. If it wasn’t, then that would give me some hope that making some changes to my bike would help me combat this pain.

Eastside Chiropractic

I called my friend and chiropractor, Dave Mruz at Eastside Chiropractic, and asked him if we could set up a time for him to take a look at me — and my bike. As usual he arranged for me to meet him at a time when he could devote the time needed to give me the full treatment. I was looking forward to learn what he would find.

He was skeptical at first that the problem was the bicycle. He wanted to take a look at me. I explained to him how that I would wake up in the morning with my right hip nearly locked up. I described how when I tried to sleep on my left side my middle back hurt to the point where I couldn’t breathe.

“Come with me,” he replied and led me to an examination table. He ran some range of motion and resistance tests. I could tell I was failing. My right leg simply couldn’t resist the pressure. “You have problems,” he stated.

It was then time for him to go to work. Within 30 minutes, I was felling better. You know how it is that you get used to pain? It becomes the new normal? Then you realize how much pain you had when you get relief from it. Sometimes that happens when you take pain medicine. You find yourself spontaneously chuckling as the relief floods over you.

“Okay, let’s take a look at the bike,” the good doc said. I sensed he still thought that the problem was mostly with me, but he agreed that we needed to remove the bike as a potential cause for my problem. I was really hoping that it was set up incorrectly. I wanted to think that I could pinpoint the root cause of my issues.

After explaining how I had the bike set up originally, we went to the Internet. Dave wanted to see if the geometry of the frames of the Giant and Felt were similar — primarily the seat tube. What we discovered was that the seat angle was different. So, that meant though the distances measured between the various points on the two bikes were the same, my actual position on the Felt was lower than the position on the Giant.

So, we started from scratch and positioned me on the Felt frame based on the angles of my body. That lead us to raise the seat a number of milometers. It felt good on the trainer. Now I just need to see if that translates into improvement on the road.

Dr. Mruz tells me that the change should also help me produce more power. That would be a nice side benefit to the process. Overall, though, I just want to find an end to the pain.

One of the other things I like about my chiropractor is that he is a cyclist. He is always thinking of the physiological aspects of the sport. For instance, before performing a particular procedure that would open my rib cage he had me breath into a lung volume analyzer. I registered a 5200 on the scale. When he was done he had me blow in the tool again. This time I registered 5700.

“Yeah,” I said, “but how long does it last?” He explained that this was something he surmised would happen based on what the procedure is attempting to accomplish — loosen the tension of the ribcage. Less tension there the more the lungs can expand. “I’m still compiling data,” he explained. “I only know that it creates an immediate improvement. I need to do more testing.”

It is that kind of thinking that attracts me to his office. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he is the chiropractor that many pros seek out when then are in town. Not to mention the fact that he is just a really nice guy! Thanks so much, Dr. Mruz.

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Thank you, family

Tuesday, June 7th, 2011

Just a quick note to publicly thank my wonderful family for making it possible for me to ride and race my bike. I know sometimes it makes things a little inconvenient for all of us. However, anything I am able to accomplish on two wheels is due to you.

Thank you, Jonathan and Josiah, for being willing to hang out where a bunch of women are jumping around to music as your mom and sister go to aerobics. Someday, I hope we’ll be going out together on our bikes. My guess is the day will soon come when you’ll be out riding your dad!

Thank you, Jonathan, for not minding having your dad show up at your baseball games in his cycling kit. I’m also sorry I’m not always the one taking you to your practices. I am looking forward to being there at the batting cages with you tonight.

Thank you, Emma, for being willing to put up with your younger brothers sometimes when your mom and I are in between things and you are there to keep them under control. I am so thankful that you are trustworthy and so imaginative! Your brothers certainly love you.

Thank you, Beautiful Redhead, for giving up some of the opportunities you have to do your favorite exercise and replacing it with a less enjoyable one just so I can get in my training on my bike. I appreciate so much your willingness to do more running around than you would have to. Of course, I’m also grateful for your willingness to arrange meals around my schedule.

These are just a very few of the things I recognize that you all do for me. I also know that you don’t have your dad and husband in the house for around 10 more hours a week. I am thankful for the time we do have together.

Of course, you know that the release the bicycle gives me makes me a lot easier to be around! Plus, unless I break my neck again (or something worse) the exercise will help keep me around for a bit longer. Thankfully, we have found a balance — but never be afraid to let me know if I start tipping too far.

I love you!

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Happy Anniversary

Sunday, May 22nd, 2011

One year ago I woke up on this day looking forward to my first race as a Cat 3 rider. Little did I know that I would find myself in a few hours looking up at the ceiling in the ER with a neck brace. May 22 is the anniversary of my wreck that resulted in my broken neck.

I’d like to say that everything is back to normal. Some days it does seem so. My neck doesn’t bother me in the least. My thumb aches when the weather changes due to the metal embedded in the bone. Really, the only physical problem that is affecting my riding is damage to my hip… and that wasn’t caused by the accident.

Where I have changed is in my mind. The consuming drive to be successful on the bike isn’t there. Sure, there are flashes of it, but I seem to be more aware of the rest of my life now.  There isn’t so much focus on the bike. Even now a year later the thought flashes across my mind to grab hold of the moments I have because things can change in an instant.

What does the future hold? I don’t think it is time to start deciding that. There needs to be some consistency in my efforts before I can decide in what direction I want to take the bike. I can’t say that I am ready to give up the competitive side of cycling.

One thing at the forefront of my mind is the future of my annual Ride for Mike. The formation of the charity iridefor.org is still a goal. Some financial setbacks have kept me from being where I would like to be, but the plan is still in place. I just might take me a bit longer than I originally hoped.

Living is wonderful! Every new day is a true blessing and gift. I don’t want to take any of it for granted — on or off the bike.

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Giving birth in a bicycle shop

Thursday, April 14th, 2011

I met Leroy several weeks ago. Leroy is a scorpion. Leroy looked more like a crab. Now I know why.

The scorpion named Leroy is the pet at Sunshine Cycle Shop in Greenville, South Carolina. I remember on day coming in and Mike saying, “Hey, come check out our scorpion.” My response was, “Your what?!” Sure enough, in a terrarium near the service area was the arachnid.

I expected to find something fierce, but instead found a lethargic creature that just seemed to lay around doing nothing. I was told it would eat the crickets that I saw hoping around on the sand warmed by a heat lamp, but I never saw action.

Really, it looked more like a crab. Each time I came in the shop things just seemed the same. Then that changed.

Leroy and babies

"Leroy" and her 14 babies

I learned of the change on John James’ Facebook page. He isn’t known to be a heavy social media user, so when I saw the post, “Leroy is a girl! Now a mother!” I took a look at the picture he posted. Sure enough, there was the scorpion with several white things on its back.

Whoa! What a transformation! The picture above was taken at the shop yesterday — several days after the birthing. John’s picture showed three little maggots. By the time all was said and done there were 15. Unfortunately, one of them met his demise as his mother’s afternoon snack.

It appears that baby scorpions are born live as they crawl out of their mother through a canal just behind her head. They crawl out onto her back and stay there for weeks. If they fall off, they are in danger of being eaten.

I’ll be interested in seeing what happens going forward. Scorpions molt. These little guys are going to lose their skins at some point as they grow. After they do this for the first time, things could get VERY interesting. At that point the spiderlings will be mature enough to be on their own and some territorial conflicts could ensue.

One thing I know is that the fat crab is gone. This girl looks mean! Actually, she now reminds me of an opossum carrying her babies around. However, I’m not going to say that to Leroy’s (or should it be Loraine’s), ummm, tail.

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Hoping for a day to remember

Thursday, March 17th, 2011

I was up late last night. That was partly due to the fact that I wasn’t able to start my trainer workout until after 9 PM. It was also due to the excitement of Thing Two.

The training went well. It was a short one, but a tough one. My coach called for me to warm up for 15 minutes working up to 260 watts. Then I was to go steady between 275 and 300 watts for 20 minutes. The last portion of the workout was a 10 minute cool down. The core of the workout – the 20 minute section – was to be at T-cadence: the revolutions per minute where I am at optimal performance. For me, that is around 95 – 98 rpm.

I pretty much nailed it with an average of 287 watts. The average cadence was 97 rpm. While it was hard – my current Functional Threshold Power is 285 watts – I felt that I could have kept it going for a bit more. It was encouraging.

Coming upstairs I tried to wind down a bit for bed. The kids were in their beds, but I could tell that Thing Two was restless. I spoke to him and then left to shower.

Later – around 10:45 PM – I went into the kitchen and who should appear? Thing Two. “I’m not tired,” he said. “Are you too excited to sleep?” I asked. “No” he replied in his crackling, changing voice. I knew immediately that he was.

Even after I got in bed he came knocking on the door. This time I sent his mom to deal with him. This was not because I didn’t want to deal with him. It was because he always seems to respond better to her when we tried to get him to sleep. Thankfully, this time it worked!

So, why was he so excited?

Tony Martin wins Paris-Nice

Tony Martin wins Paris-Nice by Jonathan Pait, Jr.

Today, I am taking off work for the afternoon. I’m taking Thing Two out of school. I’m going to pick him up when his class leaves for lunch. Then we’re going to grab a bit to eat together before we head out for a ride on the Swamp Rabbit Trail. We’re going to ride all the way to TR and stop for a cup of coffee. Then we’ll head back to Greenville.

Once we get back, I’m going to take him to a photo shoot where he’ll get a picture taken of him and his bicycle. Of course, he’ll be wearing this Low Cadence kit for the photo. I really hope it will be a fun day for him.

Thing Two doesn’t talk much. It is really hard to find out what is going on inside his head. I’ve always wondered what he thinks about cycling. The great fear is that I will push something on him that he doesn’t enjoy.

Sometimes He will express himself with his pen. He enjoys drawing and at 10-years old, he has free handed some pretty neat stuff. That is why it was really cool to see the ruled paper sketch he drew for me. It was a scene from the final stage of Paris-Nice. He had watched the race in bits and pieces with me. Of course, he didn’t say much about it. I think the picture does the talking for him.

I won’t lie. I hope today is an incredible day for him. I want it for him. I want it for me. I want it for us.

Cycling is an activity that the two of us can do together for years to come. It doesn’t have to be racing. But it is entirely possible that we could be riding together when I’m 65 and he is in his thirties. Who knows, I might still be able to beat him up Paris Mountain. :-)

Maybe he will choose a different outlet for recreation and physical exercise. Whatever he chooses I am behind him 100%. The years to come will reveal the tale. For today, I just hope it is a day to remember as we turn those pages.

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