26 Feb That cappuccino will have to wait.
The bunch rolls into the cafe patio after a three hour slugfest of inclines and accelerations and maxed heart rates. It’s a chilly morning but your base layer is soaked. And your tank is empty.
Someone suggests a lap around the local lake for bonus miles and two others take up the offer. Your first inclination is a hard no. That cappuccino and pastry is speaking your language, you’re wrecked, and another hour of pedaling squares conjures images of hell. But something inside you says yes – an empty stomach, and concrete legs, and still something inside says yes. Maybe it’s the soul yearning for more road. Or a further escape from the realities of your world. Doesn’t matter. That cappuccino will have to wait.