All in two wheels
There is no pharmacological laxative as effective as the impending start of a mountain bike race.
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Pacing from window to window, talking to myself. Looking out the front and the back and this side and that side as though the conditions might be better over here or over there.
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It’s not just that I love riding my bikes - I love to be challenged. How about you? I’d love to hear how you challenge yourself.
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he’ll hide in the ditch and stay down until I’m past. Then he’ll cross the road behind me and sprint up on my other side where I’m not expecting him and just about the time I think I’ve made it …
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Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow . . . one step and one day at a time, with courage and perseverance, we work our way through the month of March.
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in those first seconds after impact, don’t move. Take a ten-count to re-collect your awareness, then go through a quick self-assessment starting with the head: does it hurt? Vision OK? Still got teeth? Didn’t bite through your tongue again, did you?
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Race report: the author takes an epic beating in the Black Hills.
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My heart beat 170 times in the last sixty seconds. I’m sweating a bit and out of breath, but don’t call anyone, this isn’t a medical episode … yet.
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I had the new bicycle for less than a day, and I wondered if I had made a mistake.
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An identity crisis is nothing that a new bike can't solve.
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The stoplight ahead turns red and I’m saved for a moment. We stand there, each one exaggerating our nonchalance, trying not to breathe too heavy or lean on the bike as a sign of weakness.
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There are stories like this all over the sporting world: has-been runners, cyclists, skiers, blowing the dust off their histories for one more run.
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if it takes longer to get dressed for a workout than it does to actually do the workout, I stay inside.
He had gone a few miles on the rugged dirt road when his phone chimed. He stopped, read the text from Kat. “HELP” was what it said.
