I awoke this morning to bright sunlight filtering through the still-bare branches of the tree outside my window. When I took my pug George out for a walk a few minutes later I realized that for the first time this year I didn't need to wear the jacket I layered over my t shirt, and I decided right then and there that I was gonna ride the lakefront path.
I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say that every cyclist in Chicago - from Cat 1 pros on an early morning training ride to moms on beach cruisers towing a kid's trailer - has ridden the lakefront path at least once. And who can blame them? It's the longest stretch of uninterrupted paved path in the city, it's protected from car traffic, and it's a perfectly stunning ride. On one side is the great lake, and on the other are postcard-quality views of the city, including iconic sites such as the South Michigan Wall, Buckingham Fountain, the Museum Campus, and Promontory Point. Unbelievable. It's almost a pity to ride yourself cross-eyed past all this, which of course I did. I had to. What else are you gonna do when draped in team kit - in fact, I'm pretty sure that's why anyone wears a matching bibs and jersey. Batman doesn't put on his cowl and cape to step out and run some errands, he gets it on to go punch some bad guys in the face. In the same vein, if you put on a kit, you better go flat-out (or at least look completely spent from just having done so) or else that joker lurking behind you is gonna buzz right past in a primal attempt to re-establish the current pecking order. And guess what he's wearing?
Anyways, it was an amazing couple of hours. The conditions were perfect, with a steady headwind south that allowed you to feel that you'd earned the right to push an extra gear harder once you'd turned around back home. I love feeling slightly faster than I am. I love days like this.
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