Friday, September 24, 2010


(Others Don't)

The Grimp has gone on all summer, sporadically. The Fat Cat has valiantly struggled under the heartbreaking crush of bad genetics (thanks Mom and Dad)and a strong commitment to the "fourth meal" movement. Despite what Big Daddy Birdman says, The Fat Cat is sure he is the greatest sufferer the world has ever known. Now comes the part You've all heard before. It was a stuggle of epic proportions into the very mountainous heart of darkness and other such hyperbole, cliche, melodrama and kitsch. And therein lies part of the cause for The Tuesday Grimpeur's absence from the interwebs.

There are only so many ways you can say. "It was really hard to ride up that mountain." For example: The Sun beat down on Mud Pike with unfettered brutality for a late September afternoon. Raging rivulets of sweat ran down from neath the helmet-- whoops, said that before-- okay--I crept up the hill at the speed of bugs, who harassed me mercilessly--wait, used that too, and so on.

Not that there weren't some really cool and funny things that happened. On one ride a girl from Rhode Island joined the ranks. She was a strong runner and really held her own up the inclines. Problem was, she didn't really ride bikes and had only borrowed a bike to join the famous Grimp. She'd never used clipless and didn't know how to shift on a steep climb. She fell over several times on the steep grades and we had to catch her at every stop sign. Her Grimp name became "Turtle" for her struggles to get off her back. She was one hell of a trooper.

Anyway, I kinda got tired of thinking of new ways to say, "I suck" and, "That ride really hurt."

So, To use an economy of words: We rode Tuesday, the four of us. It was very hot. I have discovered that I have a heat intolerence and always do poorly on sultry days. I sweated and dragged my 213 lb self up Mud Pike. Everyone was faster than me. Legs was kind enough to give me shelter on his wheel. When we got back off the mountain, there was just laid blacktop on 857. The last hill was a sticky black furnace. (Believe me, I am resisting the urge to go all metaphorical with that.) For several hours afterward I resited the urge to vomit. Despite all that, it was better than not biking.

My winter plan is to do more, but shorter, training rides at faster speeds. I also plan to tell the kids to make fun of me if I eat after dinner or take seconds. Hopefully I can get in better shape for next year. Cycling is always fun, but it's more fun when you're faster than everybody else. Right know, I'm at 213.5-down from 220+. I don't know my Pike climb time. Kinda afraid to measure it. I'll do it soon. I'll keep anyone interested abreast of progress.


anna said...

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