Riding across France and man with no pants

Welcome Back!

Once again I’m here to clutter your inbox with more tales from Team in Training and more tales from France. America’s Most Beautiful Bike team has been making great strides and continues to get ready for their big ride in June. The fundraising has been going well. I continue to be touched when I learn that a donor is supporting the cause because someone they love is fighting cancer. So thank you to everyone that has supported this cause. Your contributions make a huge difference for sufferers and their families. If you’re considering donating, please do so before May 20^th. It’s super-easy, just go to my fundraising page.

Don’t forget if you sponsor me you do get to choose a body or bike part where you want your name displayed. So far I’ve got sponsors on the drops, stem, hoods, down tube, helmet, shorts (butt), one calf, the left and right nipples and more. If you have a body or bike part you want to sponsor, get your claim in before the 20^th.

France – The Hard Way

In our last installment our protagonist, i.e. me, wasn’t faring too well. We’d just completed a grueling hot 90 mile ride and I was seriously questioning whether I trained enough for this adventure. Roommate Roy had delicately implied that maybe, just maybe, I was too heavy for this type of riding. Well that brings us up to date.

I woke up on Day 2 to the sounds of Roy moving around the tiny hotel room. He’s talking about how great he feels. I refuse to open my eyes because the thought of seeing a bottomless man first thing in the morning did not seem like an ideal way to start the day. I asked the night before if he and his wife split the pajama pairs one taking the bottoms and the other the tops. He said, “No, she wears tops too.” “Well that’s convenient,” I thought. I thought to ask what they did with the pajama bottoms but I figured I had talked enough about pajamas. So, with my eyes closed, I asked Roy what the weather looked like outside. He said, “You sure have a hard time waking up. You can clearly see it’s overcast and cool today.” So I made the mistake of opening my eyes only to see that through the picture window in our 4^th floor room that indeed it was cloudy. Well, that is, what I could see around Roy since he was standing half-naked in the window admiring the view. Of course, all the patrons in the courtyard and pool below probably were gazing at their own memorable view in our 4^th floor window. I figured I’d get down to breakfast quickly to avoid the inevitable visit from the hotel manager.

For the next two days we enjoyed much more tolerable weather. Thankfully it was cool and overcast. I was able to struggle through each day’s ride – invariably bringing up the rear to finish the ride behind the other riders. At one stop I asked Horst, the tour leader, if there is anything I could do for a rather sharp and nagging pain in my left knee ligament. He checked it out and in a matter-of-fact precise English with a German accent told me that my hamstrings were too short. I was taken aback as I told him that there’s hardly anything I can do about that! He laughed. I guess that was my exposure to fine German humor. He said that I should stretch my hamstrings more after each ride. At this point Roy who was in earshot says to me, “I was going to suggest you stretch more after your rides. I do yoga.” Thankfully I hadn’t been exposed to that spectacle…yet

Horst lowered my seat a little bit and said that it would help. I have to hand it to Horst, he knew his stuff. I struggled through the rest of day 3 but I wasn’t as sore as the previous two days. I rolled into the hotel at the end of the day and Roy, who was already showered and had been to the pool, was telling me that I would like our room…”it’s got huge windows.” I considered warning the other patrons but thought the better option would be a hot shower and cool beer. As I left to the room, Roy yells “Remember to stretch, heavier riders put more strain on their muscles.” I couldn’t fault him because, after all, it was good advice. But it is like your mother yelling at you while you’re on the baseball field asking if you remembered to wear your cup. Good advice, but you really don’t want to hear it.

Riding in France is unlike any riding I’ve done in the US. In the US you come to expect a lot of things when you ride through towns. Things you don’t see in France – gas stations, convenience stores, and oddly, people. Check out some of the pictures at http://notabouttheback.blogspot.com/

Thanks for reading along. Join me next time as we enter the high Pyrenees and yes, there will be more Roy. Also, remember if you want to sponsor me go to the fundraising site.

Thanks,

Steve