I was a little SAD today. As in Seasonal Affect Disorder. I was ready to get out in the cold, overcast day, even if it meant bundling up and driving over to 446 to find more road than snow and ice. I had earlier texted a couple of teammates who had some interest, but some poorly timed family plans derailed the notion of a small group. I was on my own. Once we arrived back home I went directly to the basement, pulled gently by the cycling videos in the bookcase. A well worn edition of a Sunday in Hell selected me. Most of you have seen this, and probably many times.
Author: Tom Saccone
Miracle on 446th Street
The commitment that we make to cycling is as auspicious as it is self-fulfilling. I am fortunate on both accounts and more. As for miracles, well, they are where you look for them. Today there was no epic challenges, no battle royales, no halfwheeling hell. Just a strong, steady effort on a holiday weekend with some superb athletes either at the peak of their fitness, ramping up for the season, or leveling off.
It’s The End of the World as we know it
Well, the world didn’t end. So we went for a ride today despite brutally cold temperatures. The wind was slight but many roads were treacherous on an originally planned route to the north. I drove to the downtown Bakehouse because I couldn’t get out of my neighborhood safely on the bike.