Have you ever raced in the rain?

Have you ever raced in the rain that was insane which caused you a lot of pain?

Have you ever raced in the rain that was insane which caused you a lot of pain and to have thoughts that there was nothing to gain only to come in last which made you feel so lame?

I would do it all the same EXCEPT.... I would check my frame after all the insane rain. (See below)

A wake up call! That's what it was, a pure slap in the face, a dunk in ice water, a kick in the nads. It was all of these, incognito. Yep, it was all dressed up as a Saturday morning road ride. Truth be known, I knew it was coming but I still dragged my ass out of bed and showed up for it. I lined myself directly in the path of the open handed palm-to-cheek message.

After dragging my ass up and down the hills, doing my best not to hold up the other riders, I felt the pain of reality. That reality is the fact that I have to get back on the road bike. Out of this shake up, wake up, slap, kick & dunk, I not only was able to see more clearly but actually got back on the roadie two more times since that eye opening day. So I would like to thank those SHARKS from this past Saturday and let them know I will be back for another lesson in..."Get on the Bike, Dummy!"

Yes, TREVALS as in INTERVALS. Highly intense physical bout - short rest - repeat

"Yes, just show up at 8: 00 PM with your trainer and bike", is what the email from our friend, Mr. Moshe, read. So, there it was laid out to me, an invite, or as I saw it, a challenge. And, so there I was, running late and running my bike, trainer and other various pieces of equipment out to my truck at 8:10 PM on a Wednesday night. To make matters worse a late winter/early spring March snow, sleet, thunder and lightening storm was at its peak. As I drove across town to Mr. Moshe's house I had visions in my mind, because the vision of the road was covered in sleet and fog, of puking in his basement because I have spent about 4 hours on my road bike in the last 12 months. Into the driveway and quickly out of the truck, I made my way to the back of Mr. Moshe's house. Expecting to carry my bike and other equipment down the tight quarters of his basement stairs I was surprisingly directed, with a head bow and a finger point (picture the Grimm Reaper) to an outdoor screen porch. Did I mention the crazy weather we were having? As the other victims showed up we set up the bikes in silence, eye contact being the only form of communication. Minutes later, there we were, four idiots crammed into an 8x10 exposed box of death. With wheels spinning lightly Moshe gave the 3, 2, 1 countdown and IT began, our first of four. The INTERVAL of death started with, "Try and match my pace" command from our fearless leader, the fore mentioned Grimm Reaper, the Host, Mr. Moshe himself.

As the night rolls on and our bodies are hurting, the tendency to revert to schoolyard tactics grows with each pedal stroke. Calling each other out, mentioning someone's mother in a joke, quoting silly lines from ridiculous movies or is that ridiculous lines from silly movies? - you get the picture. This insanity keeps you sane for the next one, the next TERVAL.

My drive home is with a smile...I faced the challenge, I survived, I did not puke, I kicked TREVAL in the teeth and walked away to tell the tale!