Lest you think that “cycling” is just a scheme for hurtling about on a metal contraption through a series of crashes, bloody legs and general misanthropy, I would like to say that I just finished a fifty-mile ride through northern Virginia without a single incident — I did not crash, cut myself or even hate anyone. The weather was perfect (sunny, upper sixties, low humidity), the biker/runner traffic virtually nonexistent, and I felt great.
Thanks to my newfound skills at bandaging my bruised and scraped left bum (I’m practically Florence Nightengale now), my injury from earlier in the week didn’t bother me at all. In fact, it hurts much less to be wearing bike shorts and sitting on a bike than it does to be sitting in a chair or walking around in ordinary clothes.
And I’ve made some progress in the fueling department. In addition to my rations of Shot Bloks that I eat periodically, I’ve changed out my water in favor of Gatorade. Having those additional calories and electrolytes made an enormous difference today in my endurance.