Post HMC Thoughts, Ode to the Mug

I gotta say, I feel sort of bad.
When I say bad, I really mean guilty.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
See, on yesterday's metric century ride, I came in at a little over four hours.
Nothing to brag and boast about, but still a good time for me.
It was those seven minutes after the four hours that was bothering me.
Wait.
That's not the guilty part.
If you've been following along at home, you, the reader, know that the outbound leg was especially brutal, the headwinds were a blowing something fierce.
Fierce I say, fierce!
Okay, fierce, you get my drift.
Well, the cyclists were spread out by now as folks hunkered down to battle the wind.
I was sort of leap frogging along, following folks, okay, women folks, and drafting for a bit before making a jump and closing up to the next rider(s).
When the gale force section from hell came up, sort of around a bend, I was following a guy and a gal.
We had slowed down to around 12 mph, doing our best to just keep going.
Now I'm not usually a wheel sucker.
In this case though, the next rider in front was a good couple of hundred feet away.
The thought of bridging up crossed my mind, many times in fact.
The other thing I thought of was moving in front of our three man pace line and taking a pull.
The dude was doing all the work, with the the gal and me behind.
They weren't working together though, he was pulling all the way.
That's where the guilt part came in.
On the other hand, I was quite content to lay back and catch whatever draft I could.
I mean I wasn't really sucking wheel, I made sure to stay around a bike length back or so, still, it was close enough to make a difference.
Here comes the excuse part.
Now if it weren't so bad, the wind I mean, I probably would have just motored on and went on my way.
The fact is though, they were making what I figured was pretty good time considering the conditions and I figured I wouldn't be going any faster without them.
Or the next rider up ahead who we eventually caught and passed.
I guess I should have at least offered to pull some, poor dude was moving all the air. Still, I didn't know these folks and I didn't even know if they knew what I was offering if I did.
Then I thought if I did, what if I pulled too fast, I mean I would have to keep a pace they could keep up with, and I sort of didn't want to be looking back all the time making sure they were still with me.
Better to just hang back I thought.
I had a lot of time to think about this as I must have hung back there for four or five miles.
I mean I was back there a long time.
Stalking.
Sort of.
As in "who's this dude behind us and how can we lose him?" long.
After that, guilt, shame and embarrassment forced me to pass them and move along.
Guilty?
Shameful?
Wussy?
Would I do it again?
Well at the time, I was thinking I'm doing whatever it takes to finish this ride. I mean maybe if I did pull, I could have cut into that seven minutes of my total time.
I guess I should have at least offered to pull.
Maybe I'll pull some folks through the wind next year.
Okay, winner winner chicken dinner!

A Bike Bloggers Lament

I've got most things bike related
To satisfy my lust,
For burning past other riders
And leaving them for dust.

Wheels that help me speed up hills
And go so very fast',
With special lightweight spokes and rims
That make me first - not last.

I have a carbon bike frame
That is almost featherweight,
With quality looking decals
That say I am first rate.

My saddle is made of leather
And sits on titanium rails,
It helps me keep the pace up
And make others look like snails.

The pedals lock me to the bike
And clip my feet in tight,
They help me keep my cadence high,
and give other riders fright.

I wear a special helmet
That cuts straight through the air,
Pedestrians are wary
And can only stand and stare.

My clothing is made of lycra
And fits me like a glove,
It says I am a roadie
And bikes are what I love.

But the thing I haven't got
Is the thing I want the most,
I'd use it on my pre-ride meal
Like coffee and buttered toast.

It has a chain just like my bike
And comes in super blue,
What makes it extra special is
It's one of very few.

This thing is bike perfection
And will make me a bike king,
I am desperate to obtain one
It really is bike bling.

Bianchi riders love them
Especially in celeste,
But they are really for every rider
For when they take a rest.

I tried before to win one
But my entry was second rate,
It didn't make the grade required
I knew I'd have to wait.

It is a 'FLAT TIRE' special mug
The ones that are hand-made,
They come from Kailua Hawaii
You can't get them through the trade....!!

Now that's what I'm talking 'bout Willis!
Will the author of this cycling classic send me a real address so I can send off your mug!
You did an awesome job and your poem made my day.
Thank you to the folk that participated!