Flanders redux

6 02 2011

It’s been a busy week.

I managed to hit pretty much all the exercise buttons; trainer ride on Monday, trail ride on Wednesday, run on Friday, and my first road ride of the season on Saturday.

With my bones still aching from the regret of not having taken advantage of Friday’s balmy temperatures, I hustled to finish my work in time to squeeze a 50 km ride in late Saturday afternoon. Squeeze being the operative word.

The morning had flirted with the sun, and the afternoon showed promise. It was weakly trying to crack through the cloud cover when I rolled the Orbea out the front door at 2:30 p.m.

But that was as good as it got.

As I chugged up the hills of New West, the clouds started to thicken. By the time I reached the Burnaby-Vancouver border, the sky looked distinctly wintery; I felt like I was in Flanders again.

In honor of the cool, grey skies, I wore this jersey from an amateur team in Flanders, gifted to me by our cousin Martin.

Riding through Burnaby is like driving through Ontario; it takes forever.

Once you hit Vancouver though, it’s a cruise. And with the sky darkening, the ride became a race against time.

It was also getting colder.

But my lungs were loving the cool, damp air. My legs were loving the burn. It was full-on dusk when I returned to the condo, an average speed of 24.38 kmh, not bad for the first ride of the new year.




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