So, picture this: A soaked, cycling spandex outfitted, silver-haired, not-so-foxy, 60-year old woman, sitting shoeless, under some old oak trees, on an algae and acorn covered sidewalk, at the entrance to a quiet little neighborhood of half million dollar homes.
Yes, folks, that was me, eighteen miles into my Saturday ride. So pretty, why on earth did I not think to snap a selfie? Sorry, that would be the wrong Rodrigues girl!
Anyone who knows me well, also knows of my hate-hate relationship with closed toe shoes. This girl’s feet just don’t do well in them but, so far, no one’s invented a safe, cycling flip-flop. Hmmm…perhaps an idea for Shark Tank?
Truthfully, my ride today, although mostly enjoyable, just felt difficult. I’m not sure what it was. The humidity seemed less oppressive and, I swear, there was a hint of fall coolness in the air. I did encounter more head winds today than on previous days so, maybe that contributed to an overall feeling that I was trudging through sludge.
I stopped several times to hydrate and I even had to walk my bike up part of the return bridge climb but it was de FEET that screamed so loudly that, at mile 18, I could no longer ignore them. I hopped off the bike, parked it, and ripped off shoes and socks for my own, street side version of reflexology.
Ten minutes and the guzzled down remainder of icy cold coconut water and the dogs were happy enough to pedal me home.
Seems like there should be some kind of reward for completing 20 miles today but, alas, projects and plans abound. I think I’ll find a way to do it all in bare feet!
Happy holiday weekend!
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60 Cycles: Day Twenty-Three