Monday, July 21, 2008

Triangle Man

Last week I decided to give my gastric pyrotechnics a break after an evening treadmill run resulted in run 2.5 miles, puke, run 2.5 miles, puke.

Coastie Dan took me on the Arlington Triangle route.

A little background, I am kind of a freak about biking. I'm very claustrophobic, and I don't draft when training. You can't do it in the race, so there's no point training that way. Not to mention people are idiots, and I don't trust anyone with my collarbones. And trails are crowded, and DC drivers suck, so you need all the reaction time you can get.

So I had requested that we go on a trail that would not be super crowded. Dan picked the triangle.

When I first started riding, I trained with a friend who was either completely selfcentered, or just insane. Running stop signs and lights, no qualms about darting in front of cars. No warnings about stopping. I commute in the morning, and generally drive a lot. I know EXACTLY how annoying it is to wait for a light, maybe through 3 cycles, only to have some biker dart in front of you against the light so you have to slam on your brakes. I also know a fair number of people who have been hit by cars while biking, resulting in some serious injuries. So in general, I try to be good about that. I'm not an angel by any means, but I try to respect traffic laws.

Dan, in general super considerate, and a great person to bike with. All around the nicest person ever, signaled stops and safety points on the trail, let me set the tempo, signaled passing when I forgot, and didn't slap me when I asked where the turnaround was. Duh Xena, it's a triangle.

Meanwhile, I am working on developing my Weirding/Jedi voice that makes people with baby joggers or trip-wire dog leashes yield on the trail. I have however cultivated a super bitchy tone which allows me to yell "On your left" in such a way that conveys "Move your ass".

We'll see whether Dan will be seen with me on a bike again.

Highlights: flying down one of the hills at like 30 mph over poorly maintained trail. Scouting several good places to dump a body. Finally getting over post-surgery bike fear.

Woot!


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