Seven-Minute Headstart

Where the hell did the Staten Island guys go this morning? I showed up in New Dorp a few minutes before 8:30 when Andy informed I had just missed the A group as they had apparently started early today. Of all the days they have to start before the usual 8:30 departure, they had to embark ahead of schedule today? The day when I drive down from the depths of Westchester? Unbelievable.

Actually, it’s nobody’s fault other than my own as I should have given Mr. Dalton or Dr. Rob a call on Saturday to ensure those guys would even be riding today, although lucky for me, I ran into Anne on the way out of the parking lot.

“They already left.”

“They already . . . oh shit. I forgot they were leaving early today.”

So the chase was on. According to Richie (who had rolled up with Andy and Hugo), the rest of the guys had seven minutes on us. How he knew it was seven minutes exactly is beyond me, but that was the number I had in my head as Anne and I stepped on the gas.

Halfway along Fr. Capodanno, my heart rate reached 170. While I don’t know my max, I know my average from a 3-mile time trial is 175 and that’s pushing it as hard as I can. By the time Anne went vaulting past me up the hill leading to McClean Avenue, I was up around 180 and I don’t think it dropped below 170 for the next hour, which hurt. A lot.

Even with taking short cuts straight down Bay Street and past those long straights out near the West Shore Expressway, Anne and I either (a) never caught up, or (b) completely passed whoever was out this morning. I’m not sure how that would even be possible considering we spent at least ten or fifteen minutes hanging at the bagel shop waiting for somebody, anybody to show up, but sure enough, no one rolled in while we were waiting.

And that was it. Anne and I easily averaged 20 MPH in an effort to catch a group that never materialized yet if I don’t admit that Anne did a hell of a lot more pulling than I did, I’d feel as if I were lying, so let me say this: Anne did most of the pulling. To be exact, I’d say she did at least sixty to seventy percent of the work all the way to the bagel shop. And on that last hill before the break? Halfway to the top I tried to keep up with Anne but she didn’t seem to have much intention of slowing in the least, so I figured, Screw that, and simply backed off. If I could only use two words to describe the way Anne rides, I’d use the same two words that I would apply to the way, Ed, Rob, Brent, Tommy, and the Polish brothers ride: f*ckin’ badass.

Now if you don’t mind, today’s my birthday (properly pronounced birfday), so I have to get back on the couch and kill a few hours in front of the TV.