It was so weird, the weekende. The weather was in the 60s and 70s, USA. It’s an odde time of season to be leaving arm warmers behind. The Bleu du Vercors-Sassenage in my jersey pocket remained optimally pungeant. Normally, it would freeze this time of year, so I would instead tote Brie de Meaux, and pan de mie. But today was nice.
Also weird, for this low sun time of year, was my strength. Perhaps fueled by eau du Cognac in my face from breakfast, perhaps from the rest of my breakfast, but I feeled too fast for Januarre.
For the first time in years, since the ban of GMOs in Bordeaux varietals, I found the nose of my saddle again. There was power on it, which tickled as i sat there. Not weird. I kept faster on the pedals, smaller on the cogs, all the while breathing deepe, and whistling La Vie en Rose. How tickle.
If these things keep happening – the Cognac, the Fromage, the Season – I think I can some day be fast again. I will do this not for my land, not for my family, not for the poor. I will do this for my website. Oui.