Back in the fall, I made a commitment to go to Phoenix in January to train. This was before we had moved, before I realized the insanity that would come with Brian's job, before I even figured out what I do for five days away from a baby I am breastfeeding.
But hey! Tickets were $50 each way! I HAD to do it, right?
Indeed.
I booked my tickets, promptly stored my plans in the back of my head and re-commenced the whole moving/leaving my job/dealing with a newborn thing that was my daily life this fall.
Then January came around, and I realized, hm. I am leaving Brian alone with a 4-year-old and a 4-month-old for five days in the middle of only his second month in to his brand new job. Yeah, I'm an awesome wife. You would totally marry me, right?
But I had to go. I had tickets! And friends who were going! And it was warm and sunny!
Off I went.
Only to crash in a crit on the first whole day I was there. FAIL.
It was entirely my fault too. I own up to that. At 25 minutes in, I took a corner too wide, went over the curb and ended up in gravel. The damage was minor- some road rash to my arm and leg and a broken strap on my helmet. But seriously. Irritating. Welcome to Arizona.
The next day was better. And the day after that. And the day after that. It pretty much always looked like this: Sunny. Warm. Full of good friends and smiles.
I liked it. While I absolutely love my snow-covered home, it was refreshing to be somewhere so warm.
So, check out this snazzy helmet. This was my $35 replacement after I broke my super light, really nice helmet in the crit. It's a kid's size. Of course.
Top of South Mountain. I plan to ride the the West Elk Gran Fondo in September so I probably should have ridden it about 20 times "for training".
Riding here is a whole lot better than my living room at 5am. And a whole lot more motivating.
All good times must come to an end and before I knew it, I was back on the plane to Montrose. I love knowing that I am flying home to the Western Slope of Colorado, but I miss my cycling peeps and the warm temps. Until next year. For real, I will kick some ass (and not crash) NEXT YEAR.
