Monday, June 17, 2013


A long time ago, I backpacked through Central America my awesome friend Aimee, and we had heaps of adventures. One such adventure was renting bikes in Bocas Del Toro, Panama, a city with insane heat and frequent electricity cuts. Our seemingly endless bike ride on dirt roads filled with hills was a nightmare for me, and I am fairly sure I convinced myself then that I hated bike riding. It has stuck with me since. I am a bit stubborn like that.

But then I moved to Saudi, to this tiny desert town where there is a huge biking group that rides on lonely roads and comes across camel herds that freak out when they see bikes. I joke with them because when I see them on weekend mornings at breakfast and ask how their ride was, they normally say, "Oh, it was just 40K." Um, 40K is a lot of kilometers. Over the months, I slowly started wanting to be able to say "just 40K" myself.

This new-to-me bike is just the thing to get me started. I love all its possibilities. And it gets me ready for the sprint triathlon I want to join next year.

At this point, 40K is still a long way off. However, I did 15 the other night and felt like a riding rock star!

1 comment:

Popo and Nana and Gong Gong and Granda said...

What happened to the cute bike with the basket? Too slow for a race?