A rare ‘reblog’ for you today because it has been exactly 10 years since my very first sportive / gran fondo, sort of coincidentally in the same area I rode yesterday.
I’ve come a long way since that fateful day, when I learned how to descend down a mountain and hold a wheel in a peloton, but sadly I think the weight is not far off what I was then…just differently distributed.
The best part is that a couple of you made comments on this article a decade ago. You have impressive staying power, friends!
I guess I knew it would be like this, but all the training I’d been putting in over the last month may have fooled me into a false sense of greatness. Well, I’m humbled now. But let’s start at the beginning.
Shoko and I took the train up to Alès, start/finish point for the race, and I got my dossard. On the flip side of the bib is a chip that records your time, whether you want to see it or not.
It was a showcase of seriously nice bikes and I can only say I’m relieved I bought a decent machine this year. As it was, I received a few approving glances from my fellow riders. I cringe to think of the scorn that could have been directed toward me if…
View original post 1,214 more words