well i took my bike out last night and came to the realization that Gabriel is not a Gabriel at all, in fact 'he' is not a 'he' at all, 'he' is a 'she'...some background here is that i have this thing with naming the inanimate objects i hold dear. car one - Cabby (the Cavalier), car two - Max (the Mazda), car three - Monty (the Montero), current car - Sammy (the Scion). my bikes are no exception - bike one - Delainey (a Specialized Dolce), bike two - Val (Specialized Vita Multi Sport) and now the new bike MUST be named before i ride it again. i had been referring to my new Giant Trinity as a 'her' since the inception of our courtship, but had talked myself into thinking that it should be a 'he' since having anything in between my legs for that long should be a man. i thought Gabriel might be a fitting name. he was, after all, God's Angel (according to the Internet). but alas, i was wrong. so not only have i eradicated men in my bed, i've now removed them from between my legs on long rides. i think i may be hitting for the other team...JOKING! but really, the bike is a definitely a female...she handles well but is pretty touchy, turns on a dime, has extremely sleek and sexy lines and is very light...
now to the actual ride. my first lap went well. i was moving at a pretty good pace (i haven't gotten a bike computer yet, so i don't know how well it was, but i felt fast). as i merged into lap two, i felt my hips and thighs start to yelp, like helpless little puppies trying to get their mother's attention for food, drink, attention, anything. like a good mother, i ignored them. i had wanted to get in 4 to 5 laps before the sun went down. by the end of lap three, i just kept thinking "good God, is it over yet?!" let's not kid ourselves here either. i am fully capable of admitting that when i left the island, it was not because it's the winter months and i needed to high tail it out of there with the setting sun. no. no, this is summer and it's light out until about 830-9ish...it was 5:50. i was leaving because my ass hurt. my thighs hurt. my shoulders hurt. my eyes even hurt due to the gusts of wind threatening to take me out. okay, that's a lie...but it was windy. sort of. even though people were passing me like bats out of hell. okay, okay...i thought it was windy. as i was making my way around the island for a measly 20K of total mileage, i started to make some observations:
1) the island is pretty active around 530-6
2) 7 plastic bags caught up in various brush makes the place look a little trashy
3) at least 45 trash cans lined the area, making the 7 plastic bags hanging out pretty ridiculous
4) 4 cyclists passed me, one going mach 10 with a pretty gnarly getup
5) one hot ass in a SDTC jersey passed me and that added immensely to the scenery
6) one 80 yo women passed me and didn't think twice about it
7) 4 jet skis raced around, doing all kinds of little tricks
8) a port o potty stationed every 500 yards or so
9) at least 10 runners booking it around the circle
10) this island is boring as hell
that's when i started to think of this guy i once knew awhile back and how on two occasions he had ridden around Fiesta for 4 or 5 hours in preparation for the Florida Ironman. i was ridiculously bored and tight after just 45 minutes. how in the world could someone put themselves through that more than once?! craziness i tell you, utter insanity. well, props to him. a 5 hour marathon that puts you in excruciating and debilitating pain - yes. 5 hours around a 6.5 mile loop with minimal scenery, pretty high wind variance around each corner, and no change in elevation - absolutely not. so Ironman Florida (not that it ever was high on the list) is definitely out.
i left the island loving my new bike and hating the weakness i felt after my first ride in over a year. i think i'll try a bit more entertaining route for Wednesday's ride.