This past weekend was awesome weatherwise for us Texans (well, Houstonians since people often think that what happens in one area of Texas happens to all areas). We had a cold front come in, which means that we dropped down to the 80s on Saturday, 60s that night, and 70s/low 80s on Sunday. Plus, the sun was shining both days. We basically had our Spring weather hit in September, which quite frankly, never happens. I wanted to relish in this wonderful outdoor temperature by getting outdoors as much as possible. I even turned off my A.C. and kept the balcony door open (when I was home, of course).
I have slacked all week with my cycling. It's like the Weather Gods wanted to punish us with intense heat before the cool front came. I guess they wanted us to appreciate it more. So, I waited for the humidity and heat to dissipate before going out, which meant that I sat on my tush coming up with every excuse in the book to not go biking and those excuses won. But I could not waste this weekend temperature by staying indoors.
Saturday, I rode around Rice University for a rough total of 7 miles. It was a nice relaxing ride although, I had some issues with drivers. I was finally feeling my gears the way they should be feeling when I ride. I was beginning to understand just how they worked and ended up with a more productive ride than ever before. I still can't go up a hill or incline without going super slow. I also found out that the insides of my helmet are falling apart and black grit fuzz stuff falls on my face. I noticed it on my fingers and arms usually when I wiped my forehead or something. I tried to do the best that I could, but there was really nothing I could do. So, I kept it going and hope people wouldn't look at me funny. I did get some looks. When, I got home, my entire forehead was black and I can only hope that it looked like a black bandana or something. Otherwise, I was just a freak that got carried away with the camo warpaint.
And then Sunday came. I was feeling the call of the cycle again with much better weather than the previous day. I had a good amount of time before the Texans started to play (right by my apartment). I grabbed a bandana that I got from the Susan G. Komen race and put on my helmet. Nice. I headed out the door ready to ride to my goal point where Brays Bayou hits 610. However, I got about a quarter mile when I realized that I forgot my water bottle. There was no way that I would make it to the my turnaround point without water. So, I went back home to retrieve the bottle and then officially got on my way.
I began to really use my gears and watch them. Everything felt different and better. I even got to pass a couple and caught up to someone that had sailed past me (didn't take a break, because I could see him). There were loads of people out, which was good and bad. I had to stop a couple of times to let a runner go by and the cyclist behind the runner on a skinny trail. I also did my ab work out at that gym thing in the park (50 crunches, 50 bicycle crunches, 50 scissor kicks, 60 second plank, and 2 sets of 25 arm dips).
I was just biking along to my music (one ear, of course) and enjoying the outside. Before I knew it, I was passed the point where I turned around a couple of weeks ago. And then, I got to 610. I was so happy that I made it there; I felt great. I even contemplated going alittle farther, but since this was my longest ride ever, I probably shouldn't push it. It's a good thing that I turned around when I did. There was so much wind against me on my way back home; it was hard and I was tired.
I made it home in 1.5 hours, which is not good, but not bad for me. Afterwards, I did 2 sets of squarts with arm curls.
So, how far did I go? I had to know exactly. I was thinking maybe 6 miles one way, but it turned out that it was 6.9 miles. I roughly biked 14 miles and I couldn't believe it. This was a major milestone bike ride for me. Maybe now I'm finally getting this whole cycling thing. Maybe.
My next bike ride will probably be in England when I head to the Sykes Farm (you know it) to pick up the meat for my first Sunday Roast dinner. It's supposed to be an easy one or that's what Jim claims. We shall see since I will have just come in from America on that day. Oh, we also have our infamous swim competition. He used to swim hardcore back in the day. I just have powerful arms that move me across the water like Phelps. Yeah, I so got this in the bag.