Easter Sunday

Dr. Rob put a beating on everybody today, or he put a beating on me, at least.

Rolling out of bed this morning, I all but forgot that today’s Easter Sunday, so when I arrived at the parking lot in New Dorp, I expected to find a bigger crew than I did. By 8:35, three of us hit the road: Dr. Rob, Joe, and me. On Fr. Cappodanno, we picked up Horace and Dr. Rob’s friend, Greg (always distinguished in his bright red Saeco tights).

So that made for a five-man team and considering the wind this morning (aptly described as “hellacious” by Dr. Rob), I expected a strong yet manageable ride. Dr. Rob, though, he had other plans.

Once we hit Front Street, Dr. Rob took the lead position and began pedaling hellaciously. Sitting on his wheel, my heart rate already jacked up, I thought, If he can keep this up the entire ride, good for him, but god knows I’ll be in the back hanging on for dear life by the time we reach Bay Street.

Dr. Rob, though, he rides the way I expect most other serious cyclists ride: he takes his turn up front, does what he can do, and then pulls aside to let the next guy in line do some work.

That lasted for about six minutes. Dr. Rob did some work, I did some work, Joe did some work, Horace took a pull, and then Greg got up front and stayed there way too long. Regardless, the first rotation was almost flawless. When it came time for the second rotation, Dr. Rob did his thing, I did my thing, and then when I drifted back, Horace drifted back with me, leaving Joe and Greg in the wind. Then Dr. Rob jumped up front and I followed and once Joe had been up front for a few minutes, I hopped in front and then Dr. Rob hopped in front of me and it was just a frigging mess for the rest of the ride and the reason I say Dr. Rob put a beating on me today is that the dude had his face in the wind almost all day. Even out on Richmond Avenue, I was busting my ass to stay on his wheel and then, when he pulled aside, I was unable to lift my pace the 2-3 miles-per-hour more to keep the line steady. Dr. Rob looked at me and I looked back and if I had the air in my lungs, I would have said, “This is all I got right now.” A minute or so later, still sitting on Dr. Rob’s wheel, I sat up and let Horace and Joe go by. Horace stood on the pedals, but just to get up to Dr. Rob’s wheel. Luckily, I was able to keep those guys in sight, but they quickly put twenty or so seconds on me, while Greg had fallen so far behind I couldn’t even see the guy any more.

And that was that. Dr. Rob went back for Greg, so Joe and I relaxed while Horace took off on his own. After slow-pedaling our way down Arthur Kill to the service road, Dr. Rob and Greg were still nowhere to be seen, so Joe and I picked up the pace on our own, once again into the frigging wind.

Goddam wind.

Reaching the bagel shop, we had Horace ahead by thirty seconds or so and as much as I wanted to at least make the effort to catch him, I asked Joe to pull over for a minute so I could shove a few Fig Newtons down my throat as I hadn’t eaten since 6:30 and my hands and arms were beginning to feel a bit shaky. As we caught a quick rest and I munched, Joe explained he doesn’t eat before the morning rides. How in the world he goes out and does forty-five miles without any breakfast is beyond me.

It was good that we stopped, though. Dr. Rob and Greg caught up and we rolled. Not far past the bagel shop, some lady rode up on Dr. Rob’s ass and honked (not at his ass--at him) and Dr. Rob flew into a fit. It was just one of those things. I flew into a fit myself a few weeks ago when a fat bastard in a SUV tried honking me out of the way on Bay Street. Absolutely infuriated me, so I can understand why Dr. Rob was still screaming by the time we hit Main Street and the bitch in her BMW was long gone.

And once we hit the boulevard, the wind was finally at our backs. Horace was gone so the four of us cruised until Great Kills where, once again, Dr. Rob began hammering.

Unbelievable.