Our Saturday long bike rides have always been a mixture, but this week it was boys and girls riding separately. Jon, Martin and (I think) Jim took off early (the plan was 6 AM). It’s not that they are the “fast riders” of the group (which they are) but they take off early because they have young families or work commitments or both, so they need to get back at a reasonable time.

Jean and Diane wanted to get out fairly early since they were both on call, but didn’t want to leave at 6, so they opted for 8 or 8:30. Bill, Larry and I didn’t want to get out while it was still cold, and we like to have coffee at State Grounds at 8, so we shot for between 9:30 and 10. So it was the boys, then the girls, then the boys. I’m using the terms loosely since I’ll turn 60 this year and it’s hard for anyone to call me a boy except my mother.

I made it 24.5 miles before I called out to Bill and Larry that I was stopping to adjust my bike seat. I started to squirm at 15 miles, and by 24 I was in agony. I dropped it an inch (back to the height it was before the professional bike seat fit) and shoved it back a centimeter. It was much more comfortable, but by then the damage had been done, and I was glad to get off the bike at 58.5 miles. I gave it three rides and it wasn’t improving, so I’ll go back to where it was and make changes more slowly.

After I adjusted the seat I asked Larry to ride along side me or slightly behind and tell me if my leg went to full extension on the downstroke. It felt shorter than before (duh!! It was an inch shorter!!) and I wanted to be sure it wasn’t too short. I didn’t want to look like Arte Johnson in “Laugh In” on the tricycle (you young kids don’t know what I’m talking about…look it up on Google).

I had mentioned earlier that my bike shorts were worn out and I needed new ones. Larry and Bill got behind me and, since the bike shorts had been washed so many times and the fabric had broken down, you could see through them to places no human eyes should ever have to look. I tried to ignore them but I heard comments like “How much caulk do you think it would take to fill that crack…chuckle, chuckle” or “At least his butt isn’t any wider than an axe handle”. What are friends for anyway? A few miles down the road we all broke the law together (public urination is still a crime) so I guess we fit the profile of “a gang”.

We did the run from Becky’s house today…a hilly 10 miles for some of us. It isn’t an easy run but it’s great training. Diane and I ran together for a time. As we came from Broadway onto Quimby Road, Diane stopped for water and I kept going. On our right was a swamp and I could hear something walking along next to us in the water behind the brush. I’m sure it was a deer, but it sounded like “Bigfoot”, so it was a little eerie. I asked Diane later and she said she didn’t hear anything.

After the run I was changing clothes in Becky’s bathroom. If you’ve never been to Becky’s house, the dogs are confined to a back room separated from the kitchen by a doorway with a large gate. The bathroom is off that same room, and a door with a glass window separates the dogs from being right in there with you. I don’t have pets, so I’m a little self-conscious standing naked in front of dogs toweling off and putting on dry clothes. So, you people with pets…do you ever get in the middle of a romantic episode with your spouse/friend/acquaintance/one-night-stand when you open your eyes and there stands the dog on the end of the bed looking at you? Doesn’t that break the mood?

While I was standing there with nothing on but a smile and my running shoes, one of the girls came back and reached through the gate to pet the dogs. All I could hear was “You are a big one aren’t you?” and it took me back to the Florida YMCA episode when the guy in the locker room told me I had “…a nice healthy p&%$er”. (If you started getting these e-mails after the YMCA story, let me know and I’ll send it to you, but be prepared, it’s downright smut!!) She said she was talking to the dogs because they are big (in stature, not …..) but I’ll always wonder.

Just (I’m Really Just Average) Jack