Dog Hill Afternoon

Yesterday dawned warm and sunny — the low was 13C/55F — a perfect morning for a ride, although I was slow and logy and sleep-deprived.

When I was almost out the door, my roommate asked me for the model number to his printer. I wrote it down for him, and — routine interrupted — promptly forgot my helmet, though I wouldn't realize I had done so until I had already traveled the better part of a mile. About the time I arrived at Bardstown Road (I get there indirectly), I started thinking, "Something doesn't feel right..." LOL!

It was otherwise a fairly unremarkable work day — though it was the kind of afternoon that makes sitting at a desk very, very hard (even harder than it already is, for me). I skipped a lunch ride in favor of a stroll with a work friend (and a value-size Jamocha shake at Arby's) before getting my allergy shot. By then, I'm pretty sure the temperature was already around 26C/80F. I decided I would do well to plan to carry as little as possible on my ride home.

After the interminable afternoon ended, I got my fanny out the door STAT. Swift was waiting patiently. I installed the solar taillight from the set my Mom and Step-Dad gave me for Christmas and headed out via the MUP.

Lately, I've been riding my big ring most of the time. I set off on the big ring and the third cog (48 x 17), then sailed along at a nice clip in 48 x 19 for a while. Swift eats ground in his higher range — even though I was taking it easy on the turns (no helmet, remember), it turned out that I was making awesome time (again, this has more to do with my awesome bike than my chubby self). After the little climb out of the Beargrass Creek Trail (at the world's second most annoying intersection), I felt awesome — but I did have my concerns about riding The Hill. It was, after all, my first hot-weather ride of the year.

Turns out I had nothign to worry about. Yesterday's climb was surprisingly non-lethal. I didn't even have to use my granny gear (which is, for the record, seriously granny-tastic, at 28t). I did not die, my head did not explode, and I was otherwise not reduced to a quivering mass of Instant Gelatin Dessert.

In other words, things are getting better. I used to consider Dog Hill my nemesis -- now it's my favorite climb, because it's the one by which I can most readily measure my progress as a non-mashing climber (life as a reformed masher can be challenging). I'm still kind of slow and pathetic, and I still suck wind at the top of the hill, but little by little it's coming together, and that makes me happy (this time last year, I was nursing a strep infection that would go on to turn into a recalcitrant lung infection).

In other news, I'm currently sitting at 59.08 miles for the week, with a long ride of 41 miles planned for tomorrow. I will knock out the additional mileage tonight.

On Sunday, Cameron (my roomie) and I will be partaking in the annual Viewing of the Squeebs (that is, adorable fuzzy baby waterfowl), unless there are no Squeebs to View, in which case I guess we'll reschedule for next weekend — it's been a cool spring until this week, so the Squeebing Schedule may be off.

I think I will also try to put in a 10-miler on Sunday, which should take me 30 - 45 minutes at this point (unless I decide to ride repeats of Dog Hill and its relatives until I hit the 10 mile mark, in which case I will probably be riding the same loop until early Tuesday morning :D).