I used to ride bikes..

We left Flag on Friday afternoon – my buddy Joel, and two kids in tow. The goals were as follows:
-Soak up as much 70 degree sun as possible
-Give the kids a great camping experience by placing them in an environment that would allow them to entertain themselves in nature for 48 hours.
-Ride a bunch of miles on desert dirt
-Run a few miles of Sonoran singletrack
-Provide support/handups for the Red Rock Racers who were competing
-Eat great food and drink really expensive IPA

Missions all handily accomplished, with a twist or two.

On Saturday I woke up and felt pretty good about not having to cram food down my hatch in time for an 8:34am start. We slept in, cooked up breakfast burritos, and took photos of the wave starts. Good times. Of course, I got “racing envy” and wanted to be out there too, but it faded as the sun got warmer, and racers faces were showing the pain of the multiple loops. Once the bottles were handed up, the awards were done, and the sound system was turned off, I hopped on my bike for a couple of loops on the course. 3 miles in on a 6 mile loop and I punctured my tire on something that left a hole the size of a pen cap. No amount of Stan’s would seal that, so I hop – skip – jumped – ran back to camp…..3 miles in bike shoes. So much fun. I put in a tube behind a piece of cardboard, even though I could see through the rubber of the tire, I hit it again thinking I could carefully ride the tech sections. Within 100 yards of that first flat, flat #2. I knew better, I just wanted to ride. 3 mile run back to camp again. A Lauganitas IPA took the sting away, and since I seem to be a better runner than rider lately, I was OK with the fiasco.

Day two brought beautiful, warm sun, and after a great hike with the kids to a little desert waterfall and pool, I strapped on the running shoes and hit 7 miles of desert singletrack that I never would have seen on a bike since it’s desert wilderness. I felt great, had a good workout, but got back and looked at my flat tired bike and thought – damn, I wish I were riding. Even my best run doesn’t hold a candle to my shittiest ride. I LOVE BIKES.

So, that’s it. No more of this 20 miles per week running shit like Josh. I’m backing it down to two 30 minute runs just so I can do LeMans style starts at bike races with respectability, and I’m either getting on a trainer, going to spin class, or just riding outdoors. This is becoming embarrassing – I can’t even call myself a bike rider right now. Shame and horror, oh the shame of flirting with running! I don’t even deserve my sweet porter colored Marin. I hope she’ll take me back. I’ve been bad, but I’m ready to come home to her.