Lone rider.

I didn't get home from the WEMS race 'till after 11:30. We went straight from the race to the bar for someone's bday, so I wasn't able to get the dirt off my legs until just before midnight. Naturally, my 70lb furry brown alarm clock woke me at 5:30, and again at 7. I relented the second time, and she got to play frisbee for a second morning in a row.

By 8, I was loading up for a Palos trip. Trails were open and I just wanted to do some riding while I could. It took going down the orange Gravity trail just halfway before I realized that wasn't really rideable, and I assumed that meant the ravines were out, too. I turned around and headed for the drier blue trail, then met up with teammates Al and Paul-Brian and promptly got dropped on the way to the cemetery loop. Or, more like, I told them to drop me.

I like riding alone. I like taking things at my own (pokey) pace. I love being able to slam on the brakes for a snail, I love shouting "weeeeeeeeee!" at the fast stuff. I also like how, when I'm not racing, I almost never crash or fall. Blood stays inside of skin. Always good.

Anyway, that brings me to more than 30 mi of singletrack on the weekend, and add Wednesday night to that and I hit more than 40 mi last week. I know, that's not a ton, but for a city girl with minimal trail access and even less time (who also logged a nice heap of running and road miles last week), it's a lot. A work trip this week means seeing more of Indiana's best trail, and a long weekend coming up means even more dirt time. I'm getting out there.