Recumbant 1/Dork Bike 1

Typically I take the same route to work every day at the same time so it was a matter of time before another commuter race happened.


I saw Mr. Recumbent on the horizon and was gaining ground with my 1/32hp (yes Mike upon further consideration and additional calculations it is closer to 1/32hp). I took a little dig, not a cyclocross dig but a sleepy middle aged man in dress shoes and pants on his way to work after breakfast dig. We stopped at the same stop sign and I cheerfully said "good morning" and smiled.

He narrowed his eyes, looked me up and down with the expression "Did I not drop you yesterday after carefully grooming my goatee then gloat about it to my friends at the local brew pub over chokes and cheese while taking my pick of hot chicks while surfing the Internet on my cell phone which has a awesome holster." He then twisted his right hand as if turning a throttle on a motorcycle. I laughed out loud at this point.

He roared off like it was a sprint. Immediately gaped I took the bait. We were drag racing down a little hill. Me in all my dorkyness and him in cycling shoes, tights and his Hawaiian print shirt sneaking out from under his coat. This was a race. We were neck and neck to the first stop sign. I stopped at the sign as he blazed through. A women in a black SUV waved me through because she clearly realized it was a race and I just got gaped. He gained a few lengths. Quickly I closed the gap as the descent ended and we came to the bottom of the first climb mano y mano. He glanced at me surprised and dug for a handful of gears. At this point I should of twisted my imaginary throttle and made a motorcycle sound, but I never think of cleaver things in time. I stood up and pedaled to a gap. A stop sign halted my progress at the top of the small rise but I heard him approaching. I rolled away with a little gap as he blew through another sign.


Time trial mode. As you can see my commute bike is set up with aero bars and fenders for optimum aerodynamics. My gap grew over the longest slightly rolling stretch of the course. By the time I reached the final stop sign he was not in sight. Cyclist of CoMo can now commute with heads held high.

This chain of events made me realize, I like competition. I deny it but I must like it as illustrated from this stupid display of commuter racing. Did I wake up early to do openers and stretch before this event just to make sure I was at my peak? No. But I do know what openers are which is disturbing. No matter how crushed I am I always crawl back for a dropping. I relish the challenge of trying to improve. Even though I rarely do. Why must everything be a competition? Everyone knows people with great potential and winning comes easy to them. Why do these people often walk away from what they do best? Is it too easy? Is challenge good for us? What did I learn from this? I am a stupid animal that likes a challenge.