As we hit the point and the trail changes headings from NE to NW my unknown team leader decides I am no longer proving useful and passes me and ...it's the nice older lady on the Africa 3 and this is where my split bike personality comes out. My first response, thankfully from my chilled out steel riding just-happy-to-be-on-the-bike self, it to chuckle and think "dude you just got dusted by grandma on a 3 speed grocery getter" no worries I am just out here to ride. My other self, the inner Road-Raging Roadie, is a bit more scary in his reaction(s) and I had to quickly quell the following desires:
- Click to a harder gear and blow her doors off
- Catch up to her to so I can explain that this is just a recovery ride and I am not "trying my hardest"
- Shout "And your little dog too! you old crone!"
In my pursuit of being faster on the bike my rides all became workouts and had to have a specific purpose and keeping an eye on the average speed indicator on the Polar was more important than noticing an eagle catching a thermal or the Olympic range peaking out above the clouds. In short it wasn't fun anymore and the whole reason I enjoyed rediscovering cycling as an adult was that it was FUN! Gliding along under my own power, wind in my face, seeing and smelling things I would have never noticed in a car and feeling like I was 12 years old and tooling around the neighborhood again. So I decided to focus on having fun on the bike, got myself a steel all rounder frame-set and built it up with no pretense as a "race bike" and haven't looked back. Much. Apparently there is still a bit of over competitive/under confident immature Raging Roadie living in my psyche but I can take some comfort that my first impulse was to laugh at getting dusted by Grandma. You go Girl.