Irony

KenS

JORBA: Director
JORBA.ORG
I bagged work early today, blazed home and rolled out of the garage at 2 with a goal of spinning for 3 hours. I was real stoked with the weather and wind direction, so headed for Island beach State Park.

On the way back North I swung through the swimming pavilion’s lot to answer a work call (I know, lame). I was spinning slow and finished the call, then set out north again while putting the phone away. Just as I got back down on the bars and started kicking it up this older dude blazes past me on a classic old road bike, pushing a big gear.

He didn't say hi.

I got an instant "ohhh it’s on" thought in my head and started cranking. I reeled him in, which was way harder than I hoped, and returned the favor. Every time I looked back he was hanging tough, about 50 yards back the last time I looked. I proceeded to ride a lot faster than I wanted to until I hit the gate house and finally shook him off. I hit Ocean Ave. and spun through arcade hell at a good clip.

I felt pretty spent, and as I hit Bay Blvd in Ortley decided I should kick it down and ride mellow until home. I also felt like a complete ass for re-passing that dude and not saying hi.

Minutes later a guy on a Cervelo passed me like I was standing still.

He said hi.

I returned the greeting, and once again stood on 'em. He was pushing entirely too big of a gear and dropped me handily, like I was a 6th grader on a beach cruiser. As we crossed to Rt35 north I thought I was closing the gap, but maybe HE was on the phone because after 5 or ten minutes he kicked it back into gear and I lost sight of him by the time I hit Mantoloking.

I got home and thought about the irony of the ride. Isn't biking cool?
 
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