Minneapolis, Home of the "Pro Bikers"

It was a beautifully scorching 99 degree Sunday and I decided to go for a nice long bike ride. Since moving to the cities I have come accustomed to how serious the bikers, rollerbladers and runners are.  Hand signals are a must, as well as warning "passing on your left".  I have seen traffic jams of bikers for the first time in my life.  So I get out my Nike's, my rock star sunglasses and hop on my bike.  As I am cruising around on the trail enjoying the beautiful scenery bikers start whizzing by me in these flashy spandex uniforms.  "Must be a racing team or something" I think to myself.  As I continue on the path I realize I am one of the only ones without one of these sweet uniforms.  Oh my gosh! am I in the middle of a race or something?  I certainly must be, I mean everyone all ages, shapes and sizes are decked out head to toe in Lance Armstrong looking getup.  Okay if I really am in this race I start imaging what color I want my flashy spandex shirt. Pink...umm no for sure neon yellow (since it will accentuate my tan more) and orange writing that reads my sponsor Cheetos, with a picture of Chestah the Cheetah on the back of my shirt, just so everyone knows how fast I can ride ;) (but usually choose not to).

I recently read a book called the Art of Racing in the Rain.  One of the main characters gives the advice never LET anyone pass you, MAKE them pass you.  I wonder if there is an exception when riding on a bike path in MN alongside a bunch of "pro bikers"?  I decide to make the "pro bikers" pass me although it is not too difficult especially when I need a water break.  I have not mastered the riding with no hands and I don't have one of the cool backpack things filled with water or protein drinks. So usually I am just fumbling for my water still trying to maintain my speed (or lack of speed) while attempting to hydrate myself.  There is no stopping in this race.

Seven miles pass and I get bored of pedaling, I forget that every mile I ride I also have to ride back.  I decide to break the rules and turn around with no hand signal.  I already broke more than one rule in this race, no helmet and wearing old stained, green lawn mowing shoes with no spandex sponsored tshirt is a huge no no.   I continue to ride and admire the beautiful day and how the sun rays feel as they hit  my skin as I go in and out of the shadows, how little pellets of sweat feel on the side of my face, as it runs down it tickles.  I notice how my metal handle bars reflect light like those crystals one hangs in the windows and from cars mirrors. 

14 miles later I approach my apartment, I made it, I think to myself how I will never be a "pro biker", I am totally fine with that but I sure did do want one of those flashy super sweet spandex sponsored flashy shirts, maybe that will make me a little more closer to seeming like a "pro biker ";)

... oh and I have not ruled out rollerblading, they get to wear the same type of gear and there seems to be a lot of "pro bladers" in the cities as well.