Ambivalent

 

Sky over Mercer County Park

8 January 2023

Leading rides lately has felt more like a chore than a fun volunteer activity. I've been at it since the late summer of 2000, although I didn't earn my first leader jersey until 2002. I started listing my rides as C+, then B-, until the then club President sent forth the edict that B- would henceforth cease to exist. I settled on B, letting the words "social" and "mellow" do the job the minus sign had done before.

I learned the term "Hill Slug" in my early days and decided that it fit me perfectly. Over the years I got better at climbing, which is to say I didn't get faster, just less afraid. I also got a lighter bike with gearing that lets me pedal at 3.5 mph without falling over.

When I stopped going around the big hills, the riders who joined me changed. The group has been pretty steady over the past decade. People have come and gone, but there's a core group of folks, all stronger than I am, who have stuck with it. Lately, though, some faster riders are creeping in. I'm always at the back of the pack anyway, but the pressure to go faster is more intense the more people are  waiting for me at the top of a hill. What's easy for them is hard work for me, and I come home trashed. 

Out in the flatlands, I've seen myself getting slower over the years. This is natural, of course. Ever since I stopped driving out to Cranbury, I stopped working on my speed. I honestly have no idea if I could keep up with Dave H's Saturday crew. 

So, between burnout and pace insecurity, I decided to take a little time away from leading. The last ride I led was on December 17. I'll get my 10 in for 2023 at some point, but, for now, I'm signing up for other people's rides.

On Saturday, I joined Marty and Bobbi's C+ ride from Mercer County Park. I rode over on Beaker, the Tommasini. She's not my fastest bike; she is the most cushy. I wanted to show her to Tony G, who had signed up and who had recently bought himself a pair of Tommasinis. 

The weather was on the warm side of cold. The wind was out of the northwest, which made my ride to the park relatively easy. 

I was disappointed to find that Tony had canceled. Bobbi and Marty had a big group anyway. I knew who most of the riders were. Plain Jim, Heddy, and Blob had signed up too. The route was one from Tom's book, Bobbi having a major crush on it. Although I'd loaded the course into my GPS, I hadn't looked at it.

I don't remember what brought us to the subject, but during our pre-ride chatter, Heddy said, "I'm an extrovert at work and an introvert at home. I guess that makes me an omnivert." That didn't sit right with me because I knew that "omni" means "all." I also didn't think one sholuld mix Greek with Latin. Being slightly word-nerdy, and married to a full-blown word nerd, I couldn't let this go. It bounced around in my head all the way through Imlaystown and down Rues Road. "Amphivert?" I suggested. That was a mouthful, and "amphi" is Greek. 

We were well onto our way south, over roller after roller, when I asked Marty where we'd be stopping. When he told me, my heart sunk. It's been something like a decade since I've set foot inside Le Chateau de Ptomaine. I told him as much.

"The last time I used the bathroom there," he began.

"Was the last time you used the bathroom there," I finished for him.

"There's a park nearby," he said. "It's got good bathrooms. We'll stop there first."

The park is Millstone Park, at the intersection of Yellow Meetinghouse and Red Valley Roads. It's new, it's huge, and it has heated bathrooms. There were some picnic tables and benches there too. This became our rest stop. 

I roped Jim into the Latin question. After correcting me that "omni" is Latin, not Greek (duh), he pondered for a minute and decided that, since "divert" already means something, "omni" would have to do.

Bobbi made sure we didn't stay at the park for long. Nonetheless, by the time we left, the sun had gone behind clouds and the air felt noticeably colder. We'd also turned north, into the wind.

Fortunately, nobody needed to stop at Le Chateau de Ptomaine, Marty assuring me that I could dip into his spare water bottle if necessary, and my record remains unbroken. 

We rolled back to Mercer County Park more or less together, the wind on Herbert Road having battered us into a handful of separated groups.  

Bobbi is an avid picture-taker. I've been dialing it back lately. Neither of us, it turns out, had used our cameras during the ride. Bobbi said it was because it was too much to fumble around with gloves on. I said I hadn't because I didn't want to break the pace of the ride. 

To make up for it, as I pushed against the wind, alone on my way home through the park, I stopped near the boathouse to get some shots of the sky. 

There hadn't been rain in the forecast. I had about five miles left. As long as that dark mess stayed to my west, and as long as I could see my shadow, I'd get home dry. It was too cold to be wet, and besides, Beaker's drive train had just been cleaned. 

Five miles later, the clouds were still west, but closer. We did get a little rain later on as the cold front moved in.

Sunday's ride was colder. There wasn't much wind. Plain Jim kept it short, without a rest stop. He's experimenting with listing his rides as C+. Some fast people still came out, but the general feel of the ride was much more relaxed. I felt the same way on the Marty/Bobbi ride. Maybe it's the lack of pressure because it's C+; maybe it's the mix of social people that C+ rides attract. It's probably both. If I can get this feeling back on my own rides, I'll consider 2023 a success. 

[Word nerd alert: After consulting with Jack, who has multiple dictionaries on his phone because of course he does, we now know that the term is "ambivert," which is an actual word already.]