It’s times like these, when the road acquires a constant whiteish-gray and roadies take to the havens of their garages, their basements and their training studios. When only the most dedicated of us insist on riding outside, riding on the edge of frostbite and teetering on the slightest patch of ice with the hopes of gaining more.
More mental prowess.
I remember a time when I was free to ride whenever I wanted. The west-side bike path was completely frozen over, and the GWB was closed because, well, frankly, nobody in their right mind would attempt to ride over the bridge as the path was completely frozen over. I would ride down Broadway until I hit Central Park and then ride circles mindlessly at 2 in the afternoon – my aunt always told me that 2 in the afternoon was the warmest time of the day, but I digress.
2 PM rides were amazing and, looking back, they were integral to any minuscule slice of success I’ve tasted thusfar. The cold is here and with it, the snow. When the snow is gone, the ice will remain. It is time, my friends. Time to bundle up. Time to zip up. Time to HTFU and go for a ride.