Saturdays

It’s Saturday morning, early. The alarm is going off, I don’t want to get out of bed. Normal people don’t get up this early on the weekend; what am I thinking? Its May 9th, but the snow blowing outside would have you think otherwise. I shake it off. The workout is on the schedule, I must complete it. I get geared up knowing this is going to be a brutal ride.

I get on the bike and start pedaling. I’m cold. There is a constant headwind, but I keep the cadence at 90 as I warm up slowly. I do a few 1 minute intervals of fast pedaling, then 10 minutes easy again. The scenery doesn’t change. Time for the hard stuff. 5 minutes 100% effort. Ouch. Another 10 minutes easy. I don’t think I can go hard again, but barely make it through the 20 minute threshold test. I literally yelp with the last hard pedal stroke.

I spin easily again and start to think about the nice hot breakfast I’ll be devouring after a recovery shake. As I dismount the bike my skirt hooks on the saddle and I almost tip over the trainer. I turn off the fan that has been blowing in my face the entire ride and gingerly climb the basement stairs. I know the Ace hardmen will be riding outside later this morning and consider joining them. Instead, I loosen the waistband on my skirt and enjoy a big breakfast. Ah, Saturdays.