hindsight is 20/20

I just got off the phone with Dad. I haven't mentioned on here much lately just how much I love my father, so I'll say it again...I love him. Never judge a man by his accent. My father sounds like a good ol' boy (and in some ways, he is), but in reality, he is a very intelligent and thoughtful man. I'm lucky he's on my team and rooting for me, and grateful I got to talk to him tonight. I'm upset over something I'm not going to share on here. All I'll say is that I'm a bit in shock about an experience I hope to never have again and that's it. Dad heard the rest and patiently gave me good, sound advice. In fact, he advised that I not talk about it on here!





Anyway, all of the above is leading to today's ride, one I'd planned to ride with two gals who are good friends to one another and with whom I'm forging a friendship as well. One of the gals, Debbie, recently injured her thumb and, after a two month hiatus from cycling, is back in the saddle. She's working hard to regain her strength, and today, I wanted to ride with her at her pace, enjoying her and Linda's company. I made that clear to all the other cyclists I ride with on a regular basis. Too bad I didn't plan a private ride with the two of them, but hindsight is 20/20.





A great group showed up today, including two cyclists on a tandem. We all set sail right on time (8:30am) and rode from Marina Del Rey to Palos Verdes and back. The weather was blessedly cooler than the cruel heat of the valley, and with creamsicle-blue skies above us and delicious ocean breezes, the day promised to be a good one. We rode at a mostly relaxed pace, with the faster guys holding back most of the day. Our one long break was at a small cafe in Palos Verdes who were serving smoothies and fresh chocolate croissants (I had a blueberry-banana-strawberry smoothie and a bite of someone's croissant).




After the snack break, our main climb of the day was up Palos Verdes Drive East and, although it was a little warm on the way up, the views were well worth the effort. I was in a great mood all morning and all through the climbing, feeling strong and happy to be on a ride with a more relaxed tempo (and agenda). As we descended inland, however, we rode right into the hottest miles of the day with the heat blasting us as if from an open furnace. Luckily, we didn't have long to go before hitting the cool ocean winds again, and on the last stretch home through some crowded beach communities, the traffic was our biggest concern.


It was at that point in the ride that my front wheel came so close to hitting a back wheel at a side angle (which would have resulted in both myself and the other rider hitting pavement with traffic to our left), I have no idea how in the hell I missed it. I know I hit my brakes so hard, the back wheel locked for a couple of seconds (I released them as I've learned that is what you must do to stop from skidding). I also came perilously close to a parked truck and servicemen. I didn't go down, no one did, but the rider behind me yelled out in fear herself as she truly thought I was going to hit the wheel or the truck. Needless to say, the adrenaline that raged through my body was hard to shake, and on the way back, bewildered, angry and perplexed, I had a hard time focusing on much other than finishing the ride.




We all made it back safely, thank goodness. Then Linda, Debbie and I headed out to munch on tuna fish sandwiches and turkey burgers. I'm now home sipping on a beer and considering an early bedtime. I'm hanging up the Sidis and lacing up my Merrills for a hike in the morning. Yup, no pedals to push tomorrow, just a zen-inducing hike up an unforgiving but view-rewarding mountain. Oh, and only women will be there, thank God. No offense to the men of the world, but I really need a dose of female-only energy tomorrow. I also need a break in general. I think for the next month, I'm going to take it. This does not mean I won't be riding, but I think I need new roads to discover and maybe a few new folks to discover them with. Or perhaps, I'll head back up the dirt trail I climbed the other night, where the mountain views remind me of just how lucky I am to be here.