I got id (and also ego and superego)

We got a long way to go and a short time to get there.
-- Jerry Reed

It's the MS 150 this weekend. Which is actually 182 miles in length. Go figure. Imagine my dismay the first time I road it, hit 150 miles on my bike computer and was still in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Heartbreaking.

Then, we hit the Austin city limits sign. Not only was I still not done. The worst fucking climb was still in front of me. You know who you are, you mountain on MLK.

Soul crushing.

No matter how you slice it, that's a long way. On a tiny bike saddle. With very, very little padding. Even in the lucky cycling shorts, which, unfortunately: 1. were under the suit in Richmond, and, therefore, might not be lucky anymore and 2. clash horribly with this year's spiffy Wheels of Love jerseys.

I used to take long road trips to get my head screwed on straight. I've figured out a lot of life between Austin and Hereford. I figured out way too much driving from Austin to Eugene, Oregon via San Francisco.

Then, I found road bikes. Then I found myself clipped on to 19 pounds of aluminum. Then I found myself on my first climb. Trying not to fall. Mashing the gear shifts.

And then.

It clicked.

The exact right gear at the right speed and time. Man and bike as one.

Being out on the road on my own makes me feel closer to God. Total enlightenment rolling down the road on 115 psi. And that's the way several rides I've done are. Solitary, lonely rides for long stretches. Forty five minutes without seeing a soul.

You can get a lot of shit worked out in your head that way.

But the MS 150 is different. A much more social ride when you put 17,000 cyclists on the road at the same time. It slows down the pace. You have to get along with each other. It's really a beautiful, organic thing. Like a flock of birds.

And, if you're fortunate enough to ride with a team, it brings you closer together. Whether it's your first ride together or your hundredth. You always pick up something. I've even started rides with teammates I didn't think I could stand. By the end, you're brothers and sisters. Without fail. Every time.

A couple months ago, someone asked me how I got into cycling. "How'd I get into the greatest sport ever?" I ask/plied. Only I understated it. It's more than that. It's sport and church and community and camping and beer.

You can get a lot of shit worked out in your head that way.