Irene waited for me at the local Starbucks at 5:30am so we could run before the sun came up. It was the first cold, I mean, really cold morning in awhile with temps in the low 30s. I kept on my fleece-lined loose running pants that I wear for pajama bottoms, forgoing the usual running tights, and I rummaged through my drawer by the light of my phone for my fleecy long-sleeved shirt to wear under my pull-over. I needed gloves and a headband too–good thing I switched out the summer clothes for winter ones this past weekend or this run would be cancelled. Running with a friend keeps me motivated, and Irene was the only reason I dragged my butt out of bed at 4:30 to give myself enough time to scarf down a bowl of cereal and head out the door. The miles tick by quickly with good conversation with headlamps lighting the way.
This is totally not true when it’s this cold, and my options for the bike include either spin class or the bike trainer in the basement because it’s too cold for me to be on a real bike outside in the real world. I went to a spin class on Monday, so a steady ride on the trainer was in order. Did I mention that the bike is my least favorite multisport? Multisports makes it sound like I can’t make up my mind: I’m a swimmer and soccer player at heart, and running helps me remain sane, which means I can’t live without it. Cycling… well… I wasn’t sure what it did for me, until this morning.
I am a rock star in my car. I’m a rock star belting out songs while cleaning the house. I’m a rock star as long as nobody hears me and can say otherwise. And, I’m a rock star on the bike. No, really. My pace was slow at first for this steady ride, but then I thought: nobody is home, I’m in the basement on my trainer, and my headphones are blasting in my ears. Why not try and sing?
If I’m going fast enough, singing is impossible on the run, clearly impossible on the swim (I like not drowning), but on the bike I could sing. Despite my legs weighing me down from the run, I was singing on the bike, badly and loudly, and realized I needed to pedal faster. So, I did. No more singing out loud for me. Instead, I sung in my head and pushed my legs harder. Now, that’s the kind of silent rock star I’ve become on the bike. I think my neighbors can live with that too. And, my training ride was over before I knew it.