Everything was perfect, but then Noah talked

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

it pounded through on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat;

for Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

I've been riding regularly. Almost all of it is with Kid #1, but it is happening often enough that my doughy center is more like several 100calorie snack packs instead of the "I Just Ate How Much" bought at Sam's. Lately I've felt more like someone who could maybe have been almost better than average instead of "Is that really your 'champ' jersey on the wall", in an incredulous tone.

We're rolling along side by side as normal, and feeling like I wanted to open the throttle just a tad, just enough to hear and feel the motor run, I told the Kid that he could sit on my wheel. I figured it would be nice to offer since his first instinct would be to try to match my pace while riding side by side.

Big ring. Having my left hand doing the shifting feels foreign, but I increase the tempo so that I'm riding at general cruising speed for someone who deserves the category number that is on my racing license. The Kid behind me shifts through his gears as well. My mental math calculates the distance we need to ride, our current pace, the watts I'm throwing (tossing, laying, perhaps dropping) down, that he's got it 10-20% easier in my draft...and then get some Pet Shop Boys song gets stuck in my head and I go all public school on my calculations.

We make a few turns, pop over a few hills, and generally carry some solid momentum. We roll on for several miles without talking, which is just fine. Really. We have to get on a busy FM road for a hundred yards or so to get to Hilltop Rd, but we make it through. No big deal.

As we approach the bottom of the hill on Hilltop Rd, Kid #1 comes flying by and tells me to start the clock. Haven't heard a word out of him in 15 minutes, and he startles me by not only sprinting to the bottom of the steepest hill around these parts, but also by telling me, basically, "Game On!"

I hit "start" on my computer a few times, jacking it all up, pretty sure I'm going to have to send it back to the company to reset it, finally getting it right just as he passes the tree we use as the normal start for time trials on this hill. Then I chase him so I can stop the clock when he reaches the top.

It wasn't a PR, but close enough that he obviously gave it is all. Since I was all cruising just fine before this impromptu world record attempt, I didn't let up too terribly much. Maybe I was feeling a little put out that my tempo wasn't enough for him and that he needed to go "hard" to get it done. I don't need no 12 yr old reminding me I'm slow. But whatever.

So maybe I didn't let up at all. Maybe I just kept the tempo going. "I'll wait for you at the end of the road" I didn't say out loud but implied when I kept going.

With him still right on my wheel, I do think I heard him breathing hard, though.

We went up and over another couple hills, over some tracks, and just maybe I increased the tempo a little bit more. It may have been because it was getting dark. It may have been because we were meeting Mama and the POSS2 for dinner after Kid #2's soccer race practice. It may have been to show that I'm going easy all the time because I'm riding with you, not because I am this slow.

From there we make a turn up a longish false flat. The kind of road you can really put out the power and still feel a sense of speed. Figuring this is where he'd finally come off, I even said, "I'll wait for you up there" giving a head nod towards the top.

I passed some attractive women who were walking on the path in the opposite direction, who I'm sure wanted me real bad, but I was busy at the time, so I just smiled and said "Howdy" in a voice that I aimed to make sound like going at that pace was normal for me and actually easy, even though they are feeling this rush of wind go by without me even breathing hard.

Felt some sweat glisten on my arms and roll down my nose. "Hell, YEAH!" The watts looked good, and I'd been holding it for awhile. "Maybe I should adjust my goals higher for next season. I better sit up for the Kid. No need to show him up. Nah, he's good. He can't get lost even on his own. I'll keep going."

He startles me just then by rolling up next to me and saying, in normal breath, "Is glue lighter once it dries?"