On Dedication

A couple days ago a trusted friend told me I was very dedicated to the sport of cycling. She meant it as a compliment and I should take it as such. But to me that seems strange, I am dedicated to my job when I burn the midnight oil, I am dedicated to a ride when I bonk hard and still get to the final destination without falling off the side and lying face down in a ditch.

Cycling in general though? To me dedication implied doing something despite not wanting to or facing adversity, but the fact is staying in bed the morning of a good ride requires a great deal more dedication then putting on my jersey and shorts and hoping my saddle. (It might help that I am incredibly vain and I think Erin is an incredibly gorgeous bike.)

I guess to me it doesn't feel like dedication because I just love riding so much.

Although this brings up a short story. A couple days ago someone asked me, after I went on yet another oral tirade against cars, drivers, fossil fuels and the auto industry in general, if I even had a licence. Yes I do. Yes I confess I am a hypocrite. I have a regular G class licence just like pretty much everyone else. Lesley and I even own a car, well it is in her name but I probably drive it as much as she does. It burns gasoline, it pollutes and releases green house gasses as well as trace amounts of dioxins and other organic polymers what we could all do without, but at least I yield to pedestrians and cyclists and I drive as little as humanly possible. Something I wish other drivers would try to do as well.

Anyway here is a picture Lesley took of me at Katz's Deli on Houston Street, on the Lower East Side. Note the high protein diet, suitable for... well lets be honest, a couple more of those pastrami sandwiches and my arteries would be so clogged a tank couldn't make it through.