My seven year old self would have been disgusted.  But the fact stands that after a week of snow (and not being able to ride my bike) I was ready for it to be done.   When I was seven, snow was better than Christmas, better than Transformers.  It meant that not only was school cancelled but the entire city became a playground, and I could drink as much hot chocolate as I wanted.  

Don’t get me wrong, I played in the snow, I drank hot chocolate (soy).   But it wasn’t the same.  It was like drinking decaf coffee: it tastes great but lacks that je ne sais quoi.  What I realized is that being a cyclist, the whole city is already my playground.  Every time I sit down on the saddle I enter my playground.

The first time I was able to articulate this was on a drive home from a race.  My teammate Jamie and I were discussing our teammate Chad. Chad Nikolz is a fantastic sprinter, graceful in action, beautiful in victory.  His hair is also always really, really good looking.  Jamie and I hypothesized that while some people race to win, Chad actually races to look good.   It just so happens that winning looks way better than any other place.

 In the race earlier that day, I had made the winning break but was dropped like a bad habit before the finish.  But somehow, because of how ridiculous the situation was, I crossed the finish line laughing.  I realized that, like Chad, I don’t race to win; I race to have the most fun possible.  It just happens that winning is more fun than any other place.  And pushing myself to the limit and beyond is also a ton of fun, even if I get dropped. 

The snow is gone now, and as soon as I get over this cold I am getting back on the bike.  The pounds I gained from all the hot chocolate will fall a way accordingly.  I look forward to the first race of the season, like the first day of school.  And just so that it is clear, I am going to ROCK those proverbial monkey bars, and if anyone tries to push me off of them, they are dead meat.