The Buddy System

I took a couple weeks off from the bike recently. It wasn't due to injury or lack of motivation. It was simply being busy before going on a week's vacation.

By the time I got back to saddling up Old Yeller, my conditioning wasn't optimal. I decided that the Wednesday night group ride would be a good test of fitness.

The axe fell quickly. There was no mercy. After being severely dropped about five miles from Ft Calhoun, I had to solo (hobble) back to the regrouping point. Thankfully, there was my good old pal Shim, who like Charlton Heston with a touch of gray, was visibly concerned while stoically shepherding the wayward back into the fold of the group. I was saved! What relief I felt to know that would be spared the misery of slaving away solo for the next hour.

After a quick respite, three of us -- Shim, Joe Savoie and I -- were on the chase to reel in Kevin Limpach and John Wait along S HWY 75. As we took turns pulling to make up the ground, I was growing alarmed at a rising heart rate & dead-feeling legs. Then, with only 10 meters to close, Limpach and Wait launched a massive counter attack. Crap!

Shim and Joe managed to bridge up. I flamed out and was going backwards; my heart knocking on my ribs. By myself again, misery became my company.

But yet at another regrouping miles down the road, there was my good old pal waiting for me again. Shim's not bad, I thought. In fact, for the remainder of the ride back to the Trek store, he let me hang on his wheel. Moses would've been proud to see such a sight.

~//~

A few days later, having rested and licked my wounds, I joined the UP lunch riders, Wes and Ed. Shim was absent. I was about to tell the group about the Wednesday night ride when I found out that they already knew the story.

Ed: So I heard that you had a bad night on Wednesday. Shim said you really sucked, man. What happened?

Wes: He also said that he was the only one to bridge up to Limpach -- that you and everyone else were dropped.

And on and on and so forth. Sucker puncher! Even more, throughout the rest of that ride, I listened to the embellishments and self-aggrandizement Shim had concocted about himself and his impressive riding skills. Sucker punching megalomaniac!!

~//~

[ FFWD-> Boyer's Chute Pace line on this week's Trek ride ]

Brady: I heard that you were talking behind my back & telling how much I sucked last week.

Shim: I wasn't talking behind your back. You just weren't there.

[ FFWD-> one revolution through the pace later ... ]

Shim: Anyway, I didn't say you sucked. I said you blew.

Nice.

Fifteen minutes later, after being dropped on the first of the two Ponca hills, I was on the chase and closing the gap on Shim, Limpach and Pete Duryea. Though aware of the similarities from the previous week, I was determined. This time, I was stronger and brimming with WSCG confidence.

With rapid staccato breathing, a forehead dripping burning sweat into my eyes and hot snot bubbling around my nose, I valiantly (rabidly?) pushed forth. 20 meters, almost there... 15 meters...

And as if on queue at 10 meters, Shim, Limpach and Pete stand and launch a counter attack.

My engine sputtered and flamed out. Again. And just before the group crested the hill to leave me for good, Shim calls back, "C'MON BRADY, YOU CAN DO IT!!"

What a buddy. What a pal.

That is Shim.