On the first day with a new (to me) bike, I had the inkling that a ride was mandatory. Not that I actually wanted to try out my new bike on the road, of course, but I took myself in hand, gritted my teeth and got on with the job which simply had to be done.
Maybe the reality is that I spent my morning walking around my house aimless and blissful, trying to prepare to leave, but always coming back to the living room to stare at my bike. Due to my state of semi-incapacity when I finally headed down the road I left a few crucial things at home. Personally, I think I did better than to be expected under the circumstances. I did, for instance, sleep well last night, which surprised me.
My longest ride to date has been 39 miles. When I set out my thinking was rational. I would be gentle and let my body adjust to the bike by riding a nice 26 mile loop and take a few hours on the way to visit my nieces and nephews. But after stopping there, I discovered that the bike wanted to go just a bit farther then I had originally planned. (I couldn’t say no so early on in our relationship, now could I? I want to establish proper hierarchy right from the start.)
In the end we covered fifty miles together.
I arrived home…
Sore. My body isn’t used to being on a bike for that length of ride to start with, throw in adjusting to a different style of bicycle and presto! My shoulders and butt are filing lawsuits against my rashness.
Itchy. I have this weird allergy thing that produces mounds of hives on my arms upon exposure to early spring sun. It only lasts a couple weeks, thankfully.
Starving. I hadn’t brought any food with me.
And completely, totally happy.
The bike is fast, the ride is smooth and I have never felt so powerful in my life. There is a chance I will want to ride it again sometime. Like maybe tomorrow.