Forgive me, Dano, for I have sinned. It has been three weeks since my last confession.
For the holy book of Cycling doth say, “When the grapes hath been made wine and the leaves doth fall, thy big chain ring shall be even an abomination unto you; ye shall not eat of the temptation of the hammer, but ye shall have thy big chain ring in abomination. Neither shalt thou ride with fast paceline in thy big ring as with thy small ring: it is abomination.”
See, the thing is, there’s this sweet little chicane down south of the Bueno chile plant, a pair of curves that dip right and then left. And my flesh is weak, as I slip through the shadows of the cottonwoods, feel the stirring in my legs, and it takes just a twitch of my finger and I am there, riding my big chain ring. Forgive me, for I am weak.
And then there was this paceline, see, that passed me on the bike trail. And they weren’t going that fast, so I tacked on the back. It was mere flirtation, not real speed. What could be so wrong with that? And then the pace started picking up, and there was that stirring in my legs and the twitch of my finger. Forgive me, for I am weak.
And then this morning. This morning the flesh was weakest of all. Out with the guys – you know how that is! – I had every intention of a couple of easy hours, but it was the most glorious fall day, still and cool and fast. And I am so rested! All inhibition gone, the big chain ring was my savior. I know it is a false god, a pleasure of the moment that will be my damnation. What can I say? It turned into an epic ride.
Forgive me, for I am weak.
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