Confirmation that the morning commute has gone to the dogs…
take the long way home
Things have warmed up considerably in my neck of the woods. Like the sun loving goddess I am, I’m soaking it up with a lot of time outdoors. Oh, I’m also drinking plenty of water.
Yesterday, having ridden my bike to work again, I was “forced” to ride home in 90+ degree weather. Oh yeah, twist my arm. Not only did I take the long way home but I took on a few extra miles and hills just for fun. I had to; they’ve been taunting me for days. “Come on, Julie. Make the long way home just a bit longer. Come on.”
So I go for it. I turn right right, stop at the side of the road to text my altered route to a friend, and go for it. In no time, my heart is pumping faster than ever, my legs are screaming, I’m huffing and puffing and feeling worse for the wear. And the sun blazes down on me. It’s awesome!
By the time I roll into the driveway, I’ve logged 31 miles for the day (20 of it coming home). I’m completely spent but mildly invigorated. I plop myself down in a chair our front and enjoy the moment.
Share the Road
Choosing cycling over running is becoming less and less odd to me. ‘though I do want to be able to get out for more runs, I must place cycling at the forefront of all exercise options if I am to complete a century event this year. I’m off to a decent start, given that my target ride is in October, but I need to be careful not to overdue it.
Yesterday, I used my commute as a way to get more time on the bike. I took the ride in easy, finding my way and getting comfortable with the increased amount of cars sharing the roadway. On the way home, I took a familiar route for training which essentially meant I was taking the long way home.
The weather was warm with a nice breeze and I was feeling strong — so strong, in fact, that I found myself being tempted to take more detours and hit a few hills that I’d been on with my man. It’s nice to feel comfortable enough to even be tempted. A month ago, I was in a whole other place in this regard.
In spite of my new level of comfort being out there, I retain a healthy level of respect for the vulnerability of being in the mix with the cars. At the end of the day, drivers are tired and in a hurry to get home. Some, like the nice teenager who let me go at the stop sign even though it was his turn, are courteous and kind. Others don’t care who has the right of way; it is these drivers who I am leery of.
When my commute reached a familiar entangling of cars coming on and going off the highway, I opted to detour even further. I took a right, instead of adding myself to the mix. It made for a nice, almost carefree, ride home.