Yesterday was my last workout before we leave for Steelhead. My run on Wednesday felt like crap (but you’re supposed to feel like crap just before the race…right?), and I was a little nervous my bike would feel the same. So I wasn’t particularly stoked on doing this ride. But this week someone gave me an old pair of clip-on aerobars (the week of the race–bad idea), and I wanted to give them a try on the road before the actual race (good idea). So around 7pm a friend and I set out for a 20 mile ride amongst the horse farms.
Kentucky isn’t the easiest place to train, especially coming from a place like San Diego or San Francisco (where yes, I realize, I was spoiled.) Winters here can be cold and icy, and the summer heat oppressive. There aren’t a whole lot of options for open water training, and the triathlon community is relatively small (we are, after all, the most sedentary city in the country.)
But ride or run a few miles out of the city and you find yourself on long stretches of empty, rolling country roads surrounded by miles of green hills lined with clean white fences, dotted with bales of hay and some of the most beautiful thoroughbreds in the world.
And so on this Thursday night, when I probably should have been paying attention to my heart rate and body position on the aerobars, or thinking about my strategy for this coming weekend, I found myself gliding along the hills under a pink and orange sky, chatting with my friend as the shadows got long and the sun dipped below the horizon, not looking at my watch once.
Because really, what’s the point of any of this if you can’t just enjoy the ride.
Rambulatory Ambulatory 
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