That Time of the Year

It’s that time of the year.

The weather had begun to turn and it’s now that time of the year when it takes only five minutes to get ready rather than twenty. It’s the time of the year when the windproof bib tights are stuffed into the back of the drawer along with the booties and the lobster gloves. Yeah, you still have to break out the leg and arm warmers the next few weeks, and you might still have to wear a cap and long-fingered gloves if your ride early enough in the day, but that’s a small price to pay for the weather finally breaking.

It’s that time of the year when you can actually feel the sun on your back when you’re out for a ride. It’s that time of year when, if you’re lucky enough to be out on a day warmer than seventy degrees, you can smell the tar melting on the road when you stop at a traffic light. (“Smells like summer,” you inevitably mutter to yourself.)

It’s that time of the year when you can actually feel the sweat dripping down your nose as you climb a long, steady hill.

It’s that time of the year when you actually want to ride. It’s the time of the year when more than three guys show up for the weekend jaunt out of town.

It’s the time of the year when you think, “You know, I wouldn’t mind signing up for a few races this summer.”

It’s the time of the year when you think, “I wonder how much better I could get with a coach and a power meter.”

It’s that time of the year when you can actually fit a ride in after work because it won’t get dark until 8:30.

It’s that time of the year when you might even fit in a ride before work because it’s warm enough to not feel like your eyeballs are freezing.

It’s that time of the year when Versus begins broadcasting bicycle races every Sunday afternoon.

It’s that time of the year when your significant other might ask you to take them out for a quick spin in the park and it’s the time of the year when you actually feel like taking a leisurely spin around town.

It’s just that time of the year, the time of year everyone enjoys.