Signe and I just moved up out of the suburbs and down into Seattle’s city limits. A move that shortens her car commute to … well I don’t know but it can’t be more than ten miles because Seattle isn’t all that big. For me, if I find the right route and don’t get too lost, the commute is at least 12.5 miles but can be as long as seventeen. That’s without doing anything crazy.
I was talking about this at the shop, saying that I was going to have to take the bus sometime because I want race legs, not base legs at this time of year.
“That’s also too much bikes man. Working with ‘em all day and then having to ride that far, it’s just too much bike.”
I don’t agree with him on that point. I don’t see how one could get too much bikes and it makes me a little sad that a guy working on other people’s bikes think there is such a thing as “too much bikes”. But maybe that’s because I want all the things having to do with cycling.
I want to have good legs on race day so that I can go faster than I did last week, and maybe place a spot or two higher than the week before. But I also just want to jump on my bike and take advantage of the beautiful crisp fall days.
I want to be there for all the rides and what the rides are about, even if its about what its about, even if its about something different.
I want the closeness of being on a team… meaning a group of friends I ride with… a club maybe. Whatever it is that a group of people moving in sync down the road talking, or taking quick short pulls, and yes, taking the piss out of each other on the hills.
And I want to be out there by myself, having ridden up some long gravel climb just to visit some alpine lake turn around and ride back down.
I want to pull a Tim Johnson and do all the things I’m not supposed to do because they are bad for recovery and going fast because I can’t help myself, but go for a ride. And because it breaks my heart a little when I have to tell my friend Zach, who is getting stoked on doing long road rides, that I can’t go because I need a rest day.
I want to keep selling bikes to people who get it, and to people who don’t, but I can’t afford to, because eleven dollars an hour is just a little less than enough of what I need to survive, and that really breaks my heart.
I want all the things that come with “too much bikes.”