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This weekend Chris and I went his house in western mass. for some well-deserved R&R - kind of. We actually spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday completely beating down our legs to the point where I had a little bit of trouble falling asleep because I felt so uncomfortable in my skin.
Friday I skipped my guitar class (oops) because it was a sunny 80 degrees and I had a rough week of filling out fellowship applications, working 3 days, and a long afternoon at my internship. When it comes between dealing with a 'I-snort-when-I-laugh' failed musician with a receding hairline who has a severe case of little man's syndrome and an 8 mile run to the science museum/through the Fens...there's no comparison. I hate playing Norwegian Wood by the Beatles and I hate that near-tears feeling I get when I leave music class. And I love that drenched in sweat, aching feeling I have after a hard run. I can learn guitar tabs online. I don't need this guy's crap.
So I gave into my rebel side and went for a run. And it felt awesome. Then I ate my weight in chicken and headed to western mass. We ate with Chris' family at ABC in Amherst and were asleep by 11 - awesome Friday night.
Saturday we woke up, sat around being lazy and finally headed out for a 45 mile ride. And when you're in western mass, that's 45 miles of hill repeats - literally.
Somewhere between those monstrous hills and the fast descents, I had a thought. It might have been the delirium that comes with 2 hours of riding at 15 mph because the hills are so huge you can barely crank up them, or it might have been the 2 mile climb in the Quabbin that leaves my quads quivering. Or it might have been the new Roctane GU I tried (awesome stuff). But somewhere in between that 8 mph, ten minute climb, and the 40 mph I clocked on the descent, and the moment I passed Chris in an all-out sprint...I thought, "Oh man, I should go pro."
It came and went and I had to laugh. Whatta joke.
But then as we shifted to a higher gear, slowed to a 23 mph, and spun easy, I thought about it more. I've been cycling for 3 years now, never with a consistent training schedule and never with a training plan and I can still keep up with those who train all the time. I didn't ride more than what was required in a triathlon for 9 months before the Landry's TT and I finished 18, losing to girls who race CAT 1 and 2 seriously. Chris can barely keep up when I decide to take off on a flat and sprint. My climbing is a little weak but that'll be fixed as soon as I start cycling out west. I looked up averages of pro women and it doesn't seem completely out there that if I train my ass off for a couple years I could do that. Sure, I'd have to lose about 15 lbs and give up running and swimming but I really think that if I set my mind to it, I could do it. I'm not saying I'd be the best pro, not even saying that I'd ever even make it onto a team. And obviously it'd be a long, disappointing road that would probably end with me covered in road rash with a broken bike and a broken heart, but I think I should try it. Or at least try to get to level CAT 2.
So now I just have to actually start doing races. Small details.
So it was just a spark of an idea, but isn't that how all fires start? I think I'll pick up my cycling training tomorrow so when I get out to Utah I won't have my ass completely handed to me.

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