I feel sheepish. Why call this century training, when I have yet to bust through 40 or 50 miles yet? The Honolulu Century ride is a month away. Will I be ready? Or will I be a wobbly weakling wuss winding in the way of wiser wheelers? I am what I yam.
This morning I left John at Kapiolani Park at 7:13 and climbed Diamond Head, passing two dudes. One was tall and on a signature green Bianchi. The other wasn’t tall. Then they passed me. Here’s the thing. I don’t really want to pass you awesome looking beautiful people on your impressive and expensive road gear. Nope. Because, oh my, you pass me up the hill or wherever. So when I pass, it’s because I feel I have no choice. Some how I end up passing them both again on the road along side the Waialae golf course. They’re tittering like school girls so WTPho? I’m not gonna sit behind your side-by-side butts while you shoot the breeze.
So I pass and I get on Kalanianaole Highway for my first leg out to Hawaii Kai. I’m making the lights. I’m getting rained on. I’m avoiding the walls of flesh comprised of shoulder-to-shoulder runners in the BIKE lane that I’m happy to share. I’m not getting grazed by widely extended mirrors from monster vans. But in my little mirror attached to my sunglasses I see a dude in blue right on my ass.
I get over, because, I’m probably holding him up. I get back over to avoid runners, and he stays on my wheel. I point out a big trash can since he’s decided to suck my wheel all the way to Maunalua Bay. He doesn’t take a pull. He just sits back there and makes me do all the work. Who is it? Tall macho Bianchi dude. Daddy long legs. Might as well have been a tandem. John doesn’t ride as close as this guy did. So we get to the bay and I turn off. He goes straight.
I hated him and yet I loved him. Jerk made me work my ass off. I went faster with him on my butt than I did yesterday when John and I were riding together.
The rest of my ride, back to Diamond Head and then back home to Hawaii Kai, wasn’t as, uhm, exciting. I still had to get by a wall of runners and of course church was starting at the various sin dumps along the highway. I was happy no one on their way to getting forgiveness wanted to get in one more horrendous act — like running over a bicyclist — before the weekly soul cleanse.
Praise G*d for THAT.